Читать книгу The Dream Weavers онлайн | страница 16

He had looked at her, his face white. ‘It says there that the creature, the ghost, tried to kill you, Bea. It says you wrestled with it, that there was furniture flying round the room and you exorcised it with bell book and candle and flashing lights.’

‘That’s complete nonsense,’ she had retorted, flustered. ‘The flashing lights were from Ken Hutton’s own camera. And the poor soul wasn’t a creature, Mark. You of all people should know that. He was the shadow of an old man. He was more frightened of me than I was of him. An earthbound spirit who was sick and frightened and lonely. He threw the books at me because there was nothing else there to defend himself with. I prayed with him, Mark. I did not perform any kind of exorcism – how I hate that word – and he left.’

‘It says there in the paper that he tried to kill you!’

‘That is somebody’s imagination.’ She had reached out for Mark’s hand. ‘I knew what to do, darling. I was safe. And I did tell Mr Hutton before I went there that everything I did had to be confidential. He agreed.’ She sighed. ‘He broke his word. It won’t happen again.’

Had she promised not to do it again, something that was as much a part of herself as breathing? No, not as such, but perhaps she had let Mark believe that was what she meant.

But a visit to a holiday cottage on Offa’s Ridge was hardly comparable; a ghostly voice, at best a woman hunting for a lost pet, at worst a restless spirit, perhaps, nothing more. She would be able to sense at once what if anything was wrong, deal with it and be home before Mark had returned from evensong.

As though reading her mind, Mark paused from his cooking to take a sip from his glass. ‘This problem,’ he said casually as he reached for the last onion and picked up the knife again. ‘Does it involve ghosts?’

She sighed. A straight question deserved a straight answer. ‘I don’t know. I think it’s unlikely. This chap, Simon, is an author. He’s been disturbed by some noises. A voice, he said. He complained to Chris and she gave him my name. She didn’t realise I haven’t done any house clearances lately.’ She dropped her gaze, aware she was being disingenuous. ‘Obviously she’s anxious. She doesn’t want to lose him as a tenant. She wants me to set his mind at rest, nothing more. I won’t spend long up there. I need to get a feel of the place, that’s all. I suspect I shall find a tapping creeper on the wall or, as he suspects, a lady looking for her lost dog.’ She glanced at him and caught the anxiety that showed on his face. ‘Don’t worry, Mark. If I think it’s dangerous, I will leave at once.’