The Grigori: Stalking Tender Prey Part 21

The imagination is a strange country,' Othman interrupted. The so-called St Shem was never really a saint. The dedication of the church must just have been a cover up in case any strangers wandered through the village. Your mother must have told you stories about him when you were a child, which you've remembered through your dream.'

But there was a story behind the dream, I just know it. It was like I simply stepped in and witnessed a small part of it. I didn't understand it, and I want to know more.'

Perhaps you'll dream yourself back into that forgotten country,' Othman said, and covered any further questions she might utter with a kiss.

Later, Lily said to him, You've changed my life.'

I know,' he answered and smiled, leaning back beside her, his long, beautiful body warm against her flesh, his hair tangled with hers.

Who was he and where had he come from? How had he insinuated himself into their lives in this way, turned everything upside down? He had brought magic with him, Lily felt. He made things happen. What would she feel if he left her now? Could she survive, go back to how she was before? The last thoughts cast a cloud over her mood. She did not want to think about it.

When Owen came in, Lily realised she hadn't been thinking about him at all, or even wondered why he'd stayed out all night. He seemed in a bad mood as he slammed around the kitchen, sc.r.a.ping a breakfast together for himself. Lily felt tense, sure that Peverel Othman's presence was imprinted all over her body. Surely Owen could smell that Othman had been here?

Owen sat down. Lil, we have to talk.'

Lily froze. He knew! She laughed nervously. What about?'

Just sit down, will you.'

She did so, waiting for the attack. He was stirring cereal round in his bowl, staring at the table. Lily was frightened. She'd never seen Owen like this, so serious.

Owen sighed, looked up at her. His eyes were dark. I stayed at the Crantons last night.'

Lily said nothing, tried to swallow without gulping.

Owen rolled his eyes. Well, where's the outburst? At least make me feel better by shouting at me.'

Lily frowned. What? What do you mean?'

Owen stood up, gripped the back of his chair. Why is it you've been sniping at me with remarks about Daniel for the past few days, but now you've conveniently forgotten about it?'

Lily stared at him. He was talking about jealousy. Soon, the accusation would come. I realised I was being stupid, and too possessive.' Answer that, she thought triumphantly.

Oh right, so that means you don't mind that I slept with Daniel last night.'

Lily found an irrepressible laugh bubbling out of her mouth. She put her hands over it to stop it.

Owen looked furious. What's so funny?'

Lily shook her head. Two days ago, she'd have been crucified by the thought of Owen touching anyone else. Now, all she felt was relief, a shift of blame. You won't believe this, but I thought you were going to tell me off!'

What for?' Owen asked, in a cold voice.

Lily grinned. She couldn't stop herself. Well, while you were at Low Mede, Pev came here. While you were in bed with Daniel, I was in bed with Pev. Isn't that a coincidence!' She leapt up and busied herself at the sink, so she wouldn't have to look Owen in the eye. She couldn't stop laughing.

Owen came up behind her, grabbed her shoulder, pushed her round. Before she could protest, he slapped her face. The twins stared at each other in shock. Nothing like this had happened before, never had they raised a hand against one another in anger.

Lily hit Owen back. You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, how dare you!' The blow was stronger than his, sent him crashing into the table. You dare to get angry with me over Pev, O. I've always known you've been itching to get your hands on Cranton. How dare you get jealous now!'

Owen straightened up, rubbing his face. Lily's blow had been a closed fist, not an open palm. Perhaps that's true,' he said quietly. But I never did anything about it before - because of you. How weird that's all changed now, since Peverel Othman arrived on the scene. How convenient that I was over at Low Mede so he could come sniffing round you. It was his idea, you know, for me to be with Daniel.'

Lily digested this information. It did not displease her as much as Owen might think. Othman had wanted her alone. He had wanted her. So what are we going to do now?'

Owen paused for a moment. We don't fight. We mustn't separate. Not now.'

Lily pushed her hair off her face. You think something's going on, don't you?'

Owen nodded. Yes, but I haven't worked out what, yet. Othman told me things about us - he thinks, or knows, there's something different about us. He wants us, Lil. Don't flatter yourself he's in love with you, or anything. He wants more than that - from both of us. So don't go falling for him. It could be dangerous.'

Lily drew in her breath. And are you in love with Daniel Cranton?' she enquired archly.

Daniel is a need, not particularly an obsession,' Owen answered obliquely. He rubbed the back of his neck, rolled his head around. We have to find out what Othman knows about us. Until we do, we're vulnerable.'

He asks about Mum a lot.' Lily frowned. I still wonder whether he knew her. He looks only a few years older than us, but I get the feeling he's a lot older than that.'

We'll play along for a while. It's all we can do.' Owen went back to his breakfast, and Lily sat down opposite him again, her elbows on the table.

Is this thing with Daniel going to be regular?'

I don't know. What about you and Othman?'

Lily looked away. I want him, O. I won't deny it. He makes me feel...' She wriggled her shoulders. I don't know. He fascinates me. Do you mind?'

Well, as you rightly pointed out, I'm hardly in the position to.' Owen sighed deeply, and put down his spoon, reached for his sister's hands. Lily, we must stick together. Let's be frank with one another. Our sharing was never that regular, was it? I suppose something like this was bound to happen. We were isolated. Now we're not. But it doesn't change the way I feel about you. You're still my G.o.ddess.'

Lily smiled uncertainly. She wished she could share Owen's belief their relationship would not be changed by all that had happened, and all that would happen, soon.

Barbara breezed into The White House, barely able to contain her excitement. She had been to the small local library, and after a rather difficult episode persuading the librarian to let her look at the auction details of Long Eden, had spent the afternoon leafing through the old invoices and papers. Although she'd unearthed no juicy scandals - a personal letter inadvertently bundled up with the receipts would have been nice - she had discovered that the Murkasters had sold off the least valuable of their effects, and that a dozen or so paintings from the house had been bought by a local man. It had been twenty years ago, but she hoped desperately that Mr G. Thormund still lived in Larkington, a village nearby. Now, if her investigations proved fruitful, she had a means through which to impress Peverel Othman.

She went straight to her sitting room and dragged out the telephone directory from beneath a pile of magazines behind one of the chairs. Thormund, G. She found it almost too easily, and the address matched what she'd written in her notebook: Leaning Willows, Larkington. Barbara wrote down the number and went to fetch herself a gin and tonic. Then she sat down on the sofa, phone in hand, and tapped in the number. She almost held her breath as the calling tone purred out, a connection from Barbara to the past. She felt it strongly. Then, just as she'd taken a mouthful of gin, the phone was answered. Larkington 572.' The voice was male, plummy, elderly. Barbara gulped down the gin.

Good afternoon. Am I speaking to a G Thormund?'

G.o.dfrey Thormund, yes. What can I do for you?'

Barbara fell into her element. I am Barbara Eager, the proprietor of The White House hotel in Little Moor. I'm involved in a writing project about the manor house, Long Eden, which as you must know is situated in the village. I understand you bought a number of old paintings from the auction at Long Eden some years ago, and was wondering if you still owned them?'

Yes,' came the rather cautious reply.

I don't want to inconvenience you at all, Mr Thormund, but I'd be extremely grateful if you'd allow me to view the paintings some time.'

Writing project, you say,' said G.o.dfrey Thormund. Barbara sensed mulishness.

Yes. I run a writer's group here in the village, and we're aiming to produce our second book soon. Long Eden's boarded up now, and the gardens have gone wild. I'm hoping to find some representation of the house when it was lived in. Looking for inspiration, I suppose! But of course, I'd like to see any painting that once hung in the old place.'

Had a few meals at The White House,' said G.o.dfrey Thormund. With my daughter.'

Lovely! Perhaps we've met already, then.'

Next Tuesday morning,' said Thormund abruptly.

I beg your pardon?' Barbara had heard him, but hadn't expected co-operation so soon.

Tuesday morning. Ten-thirty?'

Oh, yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you so much. Would it be all right if I brought a colleague with me?'

Just one? I don't want crowds.'

Just one, Mr Thormund. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.'

After she'd put down the phone, Barbara had to sit for a few moments, quickly finishing the gin. How opportune! Not only had she secured a viewing of the paintings, but their owner had been most specific about wanting no more than two people to call. It was only once her heart had slowed down that she realised she hadn't asked for directions to Leaning Willows. Still, that simply meant more time would have to be spent looking for the place. She didn't mind about that.

Chapter Sixteen.

Thursday Owen left the cottage at lunchtime, and afterwards Lily was unable to settle. She'd phoned Barbara Eager, only to be told the woman was out. Lily wondered whether she'd have confessed to Barbara that she'd slept with Peverel Othman, realising it was perhaps lucky Barbara hadn't been available. Lily wanted to talk to someone, but instinct advised her Barbara wouldn't be too pleased if she heard Lily's news. She lay on the sagging sofa in the darkened parlour, drinking homemade wine straight from the bottle. Her body still tingled at the memory of Othman's touch. She couldn't resist sifting through the memory of their love-making, reliving it in her mind. It made her feel hot and alive between her legs: she wanted more. Should she go and look for him now? No, she must be cool about this, not too pushy. She thought about her mother, how she'd brought the twins to the village, the idyllic life they'd lived together here. All Lily's early memories of Little Moor were of summertime. Then came the shadowy time, when Helen had become ill. Lily had found it all so painful, she'd refused to think about it since. Now, perhaps, she needed to examine her memory.

Many of the local women had come to the cottage back then, while Helen lay pale and thin in her bed upstairs. Lily and Owen had been fifteen, very wrapped up in one another, which Lily now realised their mother had encouraged. She must have known she was going to die. There had been whispered injunctions from the bed of sickness that Lily and Owen must stick together. They would be well provided for, whatever happened. Lily had fallen into a kind of numbness: going to school, getting out of the cottage whenever she could at evenings and weekends. During this period, she and Owen had shared for the first time.

They had walked to the High Place in Herman's Wood, a place particularly loved by Owen, but which Lily secretly found rather scary. She remembered it had been a Thursday evening, high summer, the night warm and scented. At the High Place, Owen had said, She is dying, Lil.' Lily hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Owen had been insistent. We have to think about what we're going to do. I don't think we're old enough to live alone.'

Lily had been horrified. They had no living relatives that they knew of. Where would they go? In fear and misery, she had begun to cry. She mustn't die! She mustn't! How can she do this to us?'

Owen had comforted her, as he always did: a hug, a kiss upon her wet cheek. It had been Lily who'd become aware of the first stirrings of desire. As Owen cupped her face with his long fingers, she'd looked up at his face, and realised he was beautiful. I don't want anyone else,' she said. It has to be me and you. For ever. We don't have anyone else.'

Owen had stared back at her, his eyes steady. Lily thought about how her brother's body had become estranged from her as they'd grown older. The shared baths had ended some years ago. They never slept together in the same bed now. Helen, in some subtle way, had drawn a line between them, but perhaps the carefully worded advice from the sick-bed indicated she had reeled this invisible barrier back into herself. Lily and Owen had been growing up during this time of intimate physical distance. He was nearly a man now, and she was certainly a woman. A calm, definite thought came to Lily as she lay there in her brother's arms. Owen, she knew, was hers. Acquaintances at school whispered and giggled about s.e.x and boyfriends, but it was, in the main part, a fantasy for them. She could have what those girls craved at any time. It seemed a natural progression. There were no boys as beautiful or as intelligent as Owen, no others who understood her as he did.

We must share everything,' she said to him. Do you understand?'

She ran her hand down his chest, his stomach, found by the waiting hardness in his groin that he did understand.

Their love-making had been a ritual, an act of worship to G.o.ds unnamed, which they repeated as often as they felt was necessary to strengthen their bond. It had been that way since then. Until now. Othman was different. He kindled a wilder pa.s.sion. With Owen, it had seemed necessary, a function performed to maintain a certain closeness. With Othman she had found simple pleasure, and she wanted more of it.

The villagers had looked after Lily and Owen after Helen died. Lily supposed she and her brother must have legal guardians somewhere, because surely no-one under eighteen could have owned property or lived alone? Things had been taken care of. That meant people knew. It was time Lily was told exactly what that was. She remembered Eva Manden's old mother saying something to her not long after Helen had died. We'll all look out for you kids now, don't you worry. It's what your mother wanted. You're special, my girl.'

At the time, Lily had thought the old woman was just trying to be kind. Now, she wondered.

A little tipsy, Lily went down to the Post Office to find out. She was disappointed to find Eva's mother wasn't in her usual place on the stool by the bead curtain. h.e.l.lo, Lily love,' said Eva as usual.

Hi,' Lily answered. Is your mother about?'

Eva had frowned a little. No, dear. Why?'

I wanted to talk to her. About my mother.'

Eva had known this would have to happen some day. Poor kid. Didn't she deserve to know? Eva was unsure. Personally, she thought that if Helen Winter had wanted the twins to find out who their father was, she'd have told them. What do you want to know?' Eva said.

Everything,' Lily answered. Why did she come back here?'

Eva knew that the only reason Helen had returned to Little Moor was to hide the twins in safety, among people who understood what they were. Er... well, apart from the cottage being left to her, perhaps your Mum liked the quiet life, and Little Moor certainly has that, doesn't it!'

There's more to it than that!' Lily said. I know there is!'

Eva drew in her breath, looking uncomfortable. By now, she could tell that Lily had been drinking. She came out from behind the counter. Well, perhaps your Mum had private reasons for coming back, Lily, but if so, I don't know them.

Your mother does,' Lily accused. She was always talking to Mum.'

Eva nodded. Yes, I know, but if your Mum told her anything, she's kept it close.' Eva didn't like lying to Lily. She knew that promises had been made to Helen Winter during her last illness. After the funeral, Emilia had dealt with the solicitors in Patterham on Helen's behalf, securing the twins' financial future. Emilia must have known by then, of course, what was happening to her body. Still, as energy waned, she had directed what was left of it towards the children, even if it had been from a distance. Emilia had never wanted a close relationship with them, but then she wasn't even that close to her own daughter. She had created a cloak of concealment around the twins, guarding them from suspicious eyes. Still, Eva did not want to divulge any of this to Lily. Although she couldn't admit it consciously, deep down Eva was afraid that her mother would know if she told the truth, and she was sensibly wary of upsetting Emilia. You look a bit peaky dear. Why don't you sit down? I'll fetch you a cold drink.'

Lily flopped onto Emilia's stool by the bead curtain, her limbs splayed awkwardly. Yes, yes. I will.' She looked dazed.

No wonder! Eva thought as she went down to the cellar. She felt sorry for Lily, not least because she had picked up on the gossip muttered in the post office concerning Owen's friendship with the Cranton boy. That was seen as dangerous. The Crantons were outsiders. Bobby, Ray and Luke were natives, through and through. They were Owen's guardians, but even they had been unable to prevent the Cranton boy from being drawn into Owen's circle. And the weekend excursions to night-clubs were commented upon, another unwise activity. Owen should be content to stay here in the village. He had friends here, who looked out for him. The Lord knows what could happen out there in the world. One day, Owen's difference might be noticed. One day, his heritage would have to manifest itself. That was one reason why it was so important for Owen and Lily to live as husband and wife. Neither of them should have lovers from outside, for in the moments of intimacy was the danger of revelation. Even Eva knew that, and she, for the most part, tried to ignore that aspect of Little Moor's history.

Eva returned to the shop with a gla.s.s of homemade ginger beer, which Lily drank without pausing.

Now what's really worrying you?' Eva asked gently, thinking of Owen.

Lily sighed and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. It might sound stupid, but I keep thinking there's a secret - about Owen and me, about our mother. I think people in Little Moor know what it is.'

Eva put a hand on Lily's shoulder. She'd managed to compose some convincing answers while pouring out the ginger beer. There's no secret, dear. Your mother was well thought of around here, and we all look out for you now. That's all there is to it.'

Where does the money come from? Mum never worked for a living. Was she rich?'

Eva paused. I don't know, dear. I suppose so.'

Do you know who my father is? Was it his money? He must have abandoned her, of course, but my aunt must have known who he was.'

Eva's instinct was to flinch away from the demand for truth in Lily's hot eyes. I think your father is dead,' she said carefully. I'm sure he didn't abandon your mother, or you and Owen. I expect he did leave her some money, don't you?'

But why did she never speak about him?'

Some things are best carried to the grave, Lily. If she'd wanted you to know about him, she would have told you.'

But it's our right to know!' Lily exclaimed. It's not fair. It feels like a conspiracy now!' She eyed Eva fiercely. What about our aunt? I know nothing about her, either. It's like she never existed.'

Eva couldn't bear to look Lily in the eye and keep on lying, but neither did she want to invite a barrage of awkward questions if she admitted the truth about the fictional aunt. She felt torn. How much simpler it would be to tell the poor girl everything, yet how difficult too. Lily, I don't know anything about your family...'

Lily nodded. It was your mother who was always around when Mum was ill. Mum had dozens of friends in the village. They must have known about her. I really want to speak to your mother, Miss Manden.'

Let it go out of my hands, then, Eva thought. Emilia and her cronies were the ring-leaders behind the secrecy. It was nothing to do with Eva, who'd never been involved with the Murkasters. Emilia had kept her away from all that, which Eva had correctly interpreted as jealousy. Emilia had not wanted to share her intimacy with the Murkasters with her young, attractive daughter. I'll tell her,' Eva said.