Beltane Page 3

  A little later, fortified by her infusion, Maeve walked unaided to the window. It was another warm day. The unseasonable weather would benefit the garden. She surveyed it, picking out jobs that needed to be done. Helena could weed the flower beds, plant out the gladioli and acidantheras and....

  Was Zoe standing under the tree? She peered closer. The girl held a sketchpad. Damn her! Why was she so fascinated with it? Maeve wanted to rush down there, rip the pad from the meddling child’s hands and tear the drawing into tiny pieces. But she couldn’t leave her rooms until she’d put her face on.

  In front of the mirror above the fireplace, Maeve placed her hands on her face and murmured the familiar words. She peered myopically at her reflection. She looked exactly the same. Repeating the words, she spoke slower and more loudly. This time her reflection changed a little but not nearly enough.

  Dropping into a chair she ran her hands through her short blonde hair. It would be a mistake to waste the little power she had left on vanity. She’d have to stay in her rooms and rest. Tomorrow she’d get a boost of energy to see her through to Beltane. Only five more days, she reminded herself. Then she’d be strong enough to dispense with the masquerade.

  Moving to the window again, she looked down. Zoe had finished her drawing. With the pad tucked under her arm she leant against the tree. Maeve froze. If the blasted girl looked above her head then she would have to act, regardless of the effect her appearance would have on her guests. Peering more closely, she forced her weak eyes to focus. How strange. It looked like the girl was talking to herself.

  Only when Zoe returned indoors did Maeve move to the door and call for Helena. The girl’s unfortunate fascination with the tree had to be addressed. The instructions might be considered peculiar but Helena was so wonderfully pliant Maeve knew that she wouldn’t question them.

  * * *

  Zoe spent the day at Glastonbury Abbey. Legendary burial place of Arthur and Guinevere, it was the obvious place to start. She knew that was probably a myth, that the remains found by the monks in the twelfth century were almost undoubtedly a fraud. But she decided to disregard that. Like the mediaeval pilgrims who had flocked here she hoped to find King Arthur at the abbey.

  She spent an hour or so wandering around the site imagining the butter coloured stones as they must have been before the monastery’s dissolution. Eventually she sat on the warm grass by the site of Arthur’s reputed tomb, took out her sketchpad and let her mind wander, thinking about him as a man not a legend. When she drew it felt effortless as if she’d never been blocked. After several versions, she nodded. The man on the paper looked like a soldier and a statesman, calm in a crisis and measured in his judgments, capable of inspiring his warriors and leading his country.

  After her sandwich lunch, she walked back to the grave to see if Guinevere would appear in the same way as Arthur. She closed her eyes and tried to think of Camelot’s queen. Instead the Green Man came to mind. She took out the sketch she’d drawn earlier. On a fresh sheet of paper she redrew the face, changing his grimace to a half smile. She gave him a strong muscular body, added armour and a sword. “Are you Lancelot du Lac?” she whispered. Answering her own question, Zoe said quietly, “I think you might be.”

  By the time she left she felt more positive than she’d done in weeks. Walking up the hill to Anam Cara made her hot and a little sweaty and when she opened the gate she wanted only a long, cold, glass of water.

  Helena knelt by a flower bed. “Hey, Zoe. Did you find King Arthur?” she said, dusting earth from her hands.

  “You know, I think I did. I’ve been to the abbey. It’s a fabulous place, very atmospheric. I feel like I’ve made some real progress.” Zoe’s hands moved rapidly as she spoke, underlining her excitement.

  “That’s great.” Helena smiled. “Look, if you’ve not got anything planned for this evening then Tanya and I are going to the New Moon Cafe for a bite to eat and a few drinks. If you’d like to join us?”

  “Sound’s good. Count me in.”

  “Alright then. We thought we’d go after the meditation. Say about seven? Maeve’s resting. But Penny and Tony arrived earlier and Penny’s going to guide the meditation. As it’s another nice day we’ll do it around the altar. Take advantage of what you Brits call sunshine.”

  “I think I’ll skip it, thanks. I’ll see you later.” Zoe headed towards the house. She glanced across at the Green Man and changed her mind. She’d asked for his help yesterday and today she’d made more progress than she had in weeks. Just in case it was down to him, she wanted to thank him.

  “What you doing?” Helena called. Zoe glanced back. Helena walked briskly across the lawn, the trowel she carried pointing at Zoe’s chest.

  “I... nothing.” Zoe shrugged, before turning and heading towards the house.

  * * *

  Surprisingly the New Moon Cafe was the place to be in Glastonbury on a Sunday evening. A local singer/songwriter would be playing later and, if the number of teenage girls piling into the place were anything to go by, then he was going to be cute.

  With the meal they shared a bottle of white wine and then another. The audience of teenage girls cheered and wolf whistled when the singer came on. After a few covers of songs about unrequited love, Tanya stood. “This is the last thing I need,” she said, “I’m going to get another drink.” She was gone a while and returned with a third bottle of wine and a blonde haired, well-built man whom she introduced as Dave. Zoe had barely said hi before Tanya launched into a story that involved a lot of giggling and touching his arm.

  “Good to see Tanya enjoying herself,” Zoe said quietly to Helena.

  “I suppose,” Helena replied. “But it could be too soon. Her angel cards said she needed to take time to figure out what she really wants.”

  “Well, I admire her ability to bounce back. After I split up with my ex it was about six months before I looked at another guy.”

  “Break ups are tough. It’s important to take time to heal.”

  “Yeah but I think I’m past it now. It ended really badly. I found out that he was playing internet poker, like, all the time. He’d been borrowing money off me for a while and that caused me a problem, because I don’t earn much and I couldn’t afford to keep subbing him. When I found out about the poker, I tried to talk to him about it but he said it was nothing to do with me and anyway it wasn’t a problem, he had it under control.”

  “I’m guessing that was a big fat lie.”

  “And you’d be right. A couple of weeks later he asked me to lend him money, more than I could possibly afford. I told him I couldn’t and he said okay, he understood. But when he’d gone I found that he’d taken all the money in my purse. When I confronted him about it, he lied. That was it, I ended it.”

  “Sounds like you’re better off without him.”

  “Yeah. I can see that now but I still feel like an idiot for believing in him.” Zoe smiled wryly. “Okay, that’s enough about me. What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

  “Nah, I’m sworn off men at the moment. I talked about it with Maeve and we decided it was for the best until I sorted my head out. Look, why don’t you talk to Maeve about your breakup?” Helena leaned forward, her face getting rather too close to Zoe’s.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Zoe murmured, shifting away.

  “Maeve’s a great listener. She’d be able to help you put it in perspective and forgive yourself for trusting this guy.”

  “Honestly, I’m fine. There’s no need.”

  “Sure, you’re fine. But are you great?” Helena said, getting closer again. “Cos if you want to be great then you should talk to Maeve about it. Maybe it’s blocking your creativity and that’s why you’re struggling with this project.”

  “Look, Helena, I really don’t feel comfortable talking to Maeve about stuff like this.” Zoe’s hand rose to form a barrier between them.

  “I know it’s difficult to open up to people at the beginning. But once you get
over that then you’ll realise that she’s amazing. She’s the wisest person you’ll ever meet.”

  “I’m really pleased Maeve’s helped you, Helena. Honestly, I am. It’s just not the right thing for me, okay?” Zoe stood up. “I’m going to the ladies.”

  There was, of course, a queue for the toilet. While she waited Zoe indulged in figuring out how she’d draw Helena – it was kind of cathartic when people annoyed her - and decided she’d be a ventriloquist’s dummy perched on Maeve’s knee.

  As she walked back into the cafe the singer introduced REM’s Everybody Hurts. Winding through the crowd to her seat, she started singing along. Then she giggled. She must be drunk!

  While she’d been away, Tanya and Dave had got even closer. Dave’s arm now rested on the back of Tanya’s chair and she leaned in with her hand on his knee. Helena had disappeared. However her jacket still hung on the back of her chair so it was too much to hope that she’d run home to Maeve.

  Sinking into her chair, Zoe listened to a Nick Drake cover and stifled a yawn. The bad night’s sleep had caught up with her. She didn’t want to be a lightweight and duck out early but she was shattered. She tried to quell her yawning but it was no good. She wanted nothing as much as her bed.

  Leaning over, she said to Tanya. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to call it a night. I’m shattered.”

  “You poor thing. Will you be alright walking back on your own?”

  Zoe nodded. There was no way she’d tear Tanya away from Dave’s company. “I’ll be fine. Where’s Helena?”

  Tanya gestured to the back of the café. “I think she went outside for a cigarette.”

  “Tell her I said ‘bye’ will you?” Zoe said, stifling another yawn.

  Outside she found her knees were rather too relaxed. She couldn’t be that drunk, could she? She shrugged. It felt kind of humid. Or was that just the wine? No point putting her jacket on. The air felt nicely cool on her bare arms.

  As she walked she started singing Everyone Hurts, humming the tune when she couldn’t remember the words. The lyrics made her think of the man from her pictures. Where was he going through the rainy night? And what had made him so unhappy? Honestly, Zo get a grip. He’s only a picture.

  The walk was so much further on the way back. Why did Maeve have to build Anam Cara at the top of a stupid hill anyway? Thunder rattled across the sky, making her jump. She looked up in time to see lightning flash across the sky. Just what she needed to get caught in a thunder storm. Thank Christ, she was nearly there. As the road curved round she saw the absurdly high wall of Anam Cara. Maeve took the privacy of her guests so seriously anyone would think she ran an exclusive rehab clinic.

  She bungled the security code twice before she got it right. When the gate finally opened, the light above it shone over parts of the garden while others were deep in shadows. Thunder rumbled again, a crack of lightning following it. It sounded nearer this time.

  It wasn’t raining yet and she wanted to talk to the Green Man. To avoid the altar, she cut across the lawn to the tree. In the darkness under the canopy of leaves, she rested her hand on the trunk. “I’ve come to say thanks. I know I’ve had a few drinks but I don’t want you to think I don’t mean this. I don’t go round chatting up all the trees, you know. I’m not that kind of girl!” Zoe laughed. Then startled by how loud it sounded, clapped her hand over her mouth. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Oops, don’t want to wake Maeve. I wanted to tell you that I found King Arthur and Lancelot today. I’m making progress and it feels good, like maybe I can do this after all. And I wanted to say thank you.”

  Lightning flashed momentarily illuminating his frozen face with cold light. “I know it’s stupid but I feel like you’re really listening,” Zoe whispered. The shadows hid the trunk again and she reached up to find his face. Her hand swept across the rough bark, searching for his features. Her fingertips brushed against something soft. She whipped her hand back, stifling a shriek.

  Peering upwards, she wished she’d got a torch. Then she remembered she’d got a phone. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her mobile and touched the screen. The thin stream of bright light shone through the camera lens. Stretching up, she waved the phone at the trunk and, as lightning lit up the night again, she glimpsed a scrap of something against the bark. Angling the beam to shine on it, she stood on her tiptoes and reached up. A little above the Green Man’s face and to the left, closer to the wall, was that it?

  Her body pressed against the trunk. As thunder echoed, she realised that this was an insane place to be. She should give up and go inside before she got struck by lightning. But her fingers closed around soft cloth. It was attached to the tree. Trying to turn it towards the light, she wobbled back on her heels. Her fingers didn’t get the message to let go.

  Something tumbled to the ground. “Shit!” Zoe bent to pick it up. By the light of her phone she could see that it was barely bigger than her hand, roughly made, like a miniature scarecrow. Its head was a ball covered in beige cloth with a face scrawled on. The arms and legs were untidy sausages with frayed, raggedy edges. Wool had been knotted around its neck like a noose.

  The really odd thing – weirder even than it being attached to the tree – was that a strip of bark encased the torso, arms and legs of the doll, bound there with black wool.

  Thunder reverberated across the sky again. Zoe shivered. The doll looked like something from a horror film and she’d seen enough of those to know this was a portent. Moments after the character found it they’d be slaughtered by the psycho-killer.

  Hearing a thud she spun round. The gate slammed back on its hinges. “Zoe! What are you doing?” Helena shouted.

  Thank God, it’s Helena, not an axe murderer! Then she remembered she held the doll. “You startled me! Are you on your own? Tanya was waiting for you,” Zoe babbled, shoving the doll into her bag and heading towards the house.

  “Tanya’s with Dave. I came after you.” Helena strode up the path towards Zoe. Thunder sounded, louder again.

  “Really, there was no need. I was fine walking back on my own.” Zoe reached the path and turned to Helena. The Australian stopped a foot away, her arms folded across her chest.

  “I’m not worried about that. What I want to know is what you were doing -” Helena pointed “- by that tree?”

  Zoe hesitated. There really wasn’t a sensible explanation for standing under a tree during a thunder storm. But why was Helena so uptight about it? She clearly wasn’t worried that Zoe was about to get electrocuted.

  She opened her mouth to lie. Then lightning flashed again, almost instantaneously followed by thunder and the first fat drops of rain landed on her bare arms. In unison she and Helena glanced up at the sky. Rain streamed down, soaking into Zoe’s hair and thin top, trickling down her face. She sprinted for the house, threw open the porch door and stumbled inside, Helena a step behind her. Rain blurred the windows and hammered on the roof.

  Brushing water from her face, Zoe walked into the hall and started up the stairs. Helena called after her, “You haven’t told me what you were doing by that tree.”

  Zoe hesitated before she replied. “Why does it matter what I was doing?”

  “It’s not a good place to be. Maeve said…”

  Zoe’s hands flew up. “Oh, if Maeve said!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just pretty tired of hearing you repeat what Maeve says all the time!” Without waiting for a reply she stomped up the remaining stairs. Closing her bedroom door, she leaned against it for a minute. Snatching her towel from the radiator, she dried her arms, her hair. Anam Cara just kept on getting weirder. Had she really just been warned off from standing by a tree?

  Her smile faded when she remembered the doll. She took it from her bag, rested it on her palm and studied it. The scrawled face glowered at her and she shivered. Not surprising that you’re scowling, she thought, with your arms and legs all tied up like that. Digging around in her bag, she
found her pencil case and took out her scissors.

  Carefully snipping through the black wool that bound the doll, she unwrapped the bark and gently straightened its arms and legs. She dropped the scraps of wool and the bark in the waste paper basket. The doll lay limp on the quilt. It should have been only a crudely made child’s plaything yet there was still something about it that reminded Zoe of her nightmares. No way could she sleep tonight with it scowling at her.

  Walking across the room, she opened the top drawer of the chest, dropped the doll inside and slammed it shut.

  Chapter 3

  A thunderous crack jerked Zoe from sleep. A loud creaking which sounded ominously close was followed by a sharp rattling against the windows. Half asleep, she rolled onto her back. A second later, a scream tore through the house.

  She flung herself out of bed and opened her door. Tanya appeared in the doorway opposite, still fully dressed. “Did you hear that?” she said.

  “You could hardly miss it. Do you think everyone’s okay?”

  “I don’t know.” Tanya moved to stand close to Zoe. “Maybe it’s something to do with what happened in...” She broke off as a loud thud resounded through the ceiling.

  “It’s coming from upstairs.” Zoe walked across the landing and switched on the light. “Whose room’s that?”

  “Maeve’s I think but I’ve never been up there.”

  Several loud crashes reverberated through the house making the ceiling shake. A hairline crack appeared spewing a thin trail of plaster dust. The door across the landing opened. A middle aged man with grey hair and a neat beard stepped into the light in navy blue pyjamas, fumbling with his glasses. “Are you alright?” he said, blinking at them through his lenses.

  “Oh, Tony!” Tanya walked towards him, one hand outstretched. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  Tony frowned. “Can’t say I do. We were asleep until the explosion in the garden woke us. And then we heard the scream and Penny asked me to find out if anyone needed any help.”

  Footsteps echoed along the dark corridor that ran behind the bathroom. Helena stepped into the landing. She wore sleep shorts and a baggy grey t-shirt and carried an electric kettle. “Sorry about the disturbance. Everything’s fine. You can go back to bed.”