His hands stained with blood, his limbs moving only mechanically, as if beyond his own agency, he threw a rope over the strongest limb of the yew tree …
Adam woke up, shouting words he didn’t understand.
The dream was more horrible than he could process at first. He needed to get out of bed, to pace up and down, to go to the kitchen and make tea, before he could settle his thoughts.
The clock read 3.47. He couldn’t go back to sleep. He was afraid to go back to sleep.
Instead, he dressed and walked into the churchyard, shivering with horror as he passed the yew tree.
At Julia’s flat, all the lights were off, unsurprisingly, but he rang the doorbell all the same.
There was no reply, so he rang again. Still nothing.
Perhaps she was afraid to answer her door at this time of night. He took out his phone and rang her, standing on the doorstep with the mobile to his ear, marvelling at how profoundly dark the village was at night.
The call went to voicemail. He shrugged, sighed, and made his way down the path, back towards the village green. Perhaps a walk … But nowhere near Palmers Barn, which appeared to occupy the very site of that shack in his dream.
It was as if the whole village had switched itself off. Not even a cat prowled, or a fox menaced a chicken coop. The night was so still he thought he could hear the snores of the sleeping villagers behind the curtained windows. All dreaming, all except for him.
Memories of his nightmare occluded his thoughts, turning the tranquillity of the village into something more sinister. His skin prickled and every corner seemed to turn to John Calderwood’s shack.
He stopped at the manor house gates and looked bleakly through them, thinking of the earlier building and what had taken place there. Witch trials, abductions, torture. He shuddered and turned away, but his attention was caught for a moment by light in one of the upstairs windows.
He looked harder and detected a shadow of somebody in the room.
But they had all gone to France, hadn’t they? Taking Evie with them.
Maybe a housesitter, he thought. But he was uneasy. He had spoken to Sebastian before they left, just a light conversational exchange outside the shop, and he had mentioned that the house would be empty.
Here was something to chase the dream away. An investigation. Taking a deep breath, he walked on to the spot where the wall curved round into the woodland and followed it round, knowing where to find the little broken-down section that could be climbed. The thicket was intensely dark and eerily quiet. Adam felt something ancient and primitive in the air, something he would almost describe as evil. It was if unseen eyes watched him. Once or twice, he almost called out in bravado, but he persuaded himself that the dream had put him in a strange frame of mind and he should ignore his errant thoughts.
He blundered his way through, snapping twigs and tripping on roots, until he found that part of the wall he had climbed over before. He was quick, weaving through the trees until he arrived at the moonlit back lawn. The pool was empty, its cover spread over it, and the tennis court had no net. The gardens were still fragrant, though, and the swinging chairs lazed on the veranda, waiting to be occupied by lascivious bodies.
All the curtains were drawn across the French doors, so he couldn’t see inside, but he walked slowly around the perimeter of the house, trying to find a window he might peer into.
It appeared to be a fruitless task. Even at the front, great wooden shutters were drawn against the outside world.
He looked up again at that lit window. The light was still on. Had he imagined the figure? Perhaps it was just for security.
He marched up to the front door and rang the bell. If it was thieves, he could disturb them, at least. He imagined them haring over the back lawn, arms full of computers and film equipment.
The lit window opened but by the time he’d looked up, the face had gone and the window was shut again.
His heart thundered. He was close to solving a mystery. He hoped the solution would be a benign one. He stood on the step, looking out into the night, until he heard footsteps behind the door and he turned back. The noise of locks carried on for some time, but eventually the door swung open.
‘Julia!’
She smiled delightedly. ‘Adam, it is you. Do come in.’
‘But what are you doing here?’
‘At four o’clock in the morning, I could ask you the same question.’
She stood, grinning from ear to ear, in a silk bathrobe and satin slippers.
He looked around to make sure nobody was watching, and followed Julia into the entrance hall.
‘Couldn’t you sleep either?’ she asked in a conversational tone. ‘I meant to go to bed, but I found all this stuff in one of the spare rooms and I couldn’t resist a look. I’m afraid I’ve been in there all night.’