Secrets of the Mist

by Kate Ryder

  ‘Maddie!’ he said, in such a delightfully animated tone that it sent a tingle right through me.

  ‘Hello.’ I smiled.

  Bending double, attempting to catch his breath, he looked up and surveyed me through narrowed eyes. ‘Hang on,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  Baron moved towards him and nudged his hand. Nick gently stroked the dog’s head. Again, noticing his strong, capable hands, I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to feel those fingers gently stroking my skin.

  With breathing less laboured, Nick straightened up and climbed over the ridge. As he sat down beside me, Baron immediately stretched out next to him.

  ‘What brings you out this way?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing in particular,’ I replied. ‘I just felt the need for some air, so drove out here.’

  ‘Well, at two hundred and thirty-seven metres above sea level it’s certainly a good place to catch the air.’ He looked across me at his other dog. ‘I see Casper’s claimed you.’

  At the sound of his name the dog thumped his tail on the ground but remained lying at my side.

  ‘I told you these two like the fairer sex.’

  I smiled. At least I was a hit with his dogs.

  ‘The views are absolutely stunning.’

  ‘Yes. It’s the only place where you can see the entire length of the Jurassic Coast.’ He looked along the coastline and pointed. ‘See the Needles? They’re clearly visible today.’

  I looked eastwards. Shimmering in the far distance were the Isle of Wight’s distinctive landmarks.

  ‘They’re about fifty miles away,’ Nick continued. ‘This is the only spot in Dorset where you can see the entire county and all its neighbouring counties.’

  ‘How tall is the monument?’ I asked, squinting up at the obelisk behind us.

  ‘Seventy-two feet and built of Portland stone. Did you know it represents the spyglass of a ship?’ I shook my head. ‘It was built in honour of Sir Thomas Masterman Hardy, Flag Captain of HMS Victory. The story goes that Hardy sailed by in 1805 on his way to fight the Battle of Trafalgar.’

  I smiled; comforted that Nick should know such things. ‘Not Thomas Hardy the writer, then?’

  ‘No, though a lot of visitors assume that. Thomas Masterman Hardy lived in Portesham until he joined the Navy.’ He pointed to the village way below. ‘Now, what other facts can I conjure up to impress the Irish lass?’ Teasingly, he pulled a thinking face. ‘Ah yes, the monument receives such a battering from the weather that as soon as it was built in 1844 the stone began to crumble.’

  His eyes looked deep into mine.

  I was totally disarmed and quickly scanned the escarpment for any diversion.

  ‘That’s one hell of a climb.’

  ‘Sure is! And don’t believe anyone who tells you the more you do it the easier it gets.’ He laughed… that lovely mellow laugh that set me alight.

  The quiet, trance-like reflective mood was still upon me and I gazed out to sea. Neither of us spoke for several minutes but the silence was companionable and not at all awkward. Thankfully, for once, I didn’t feel the onset of an embarrassing schoolgirl blush.

  After a while Nick asked, ‘How’s that friend of yours?’

  ‘Dan?’ I asked, still looking out to sea.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK, but he has girlfriend trouble. That’s why he came to see me.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Nick. ‘We’ve all experienced that at some time or other.’

  ‘Obviously very happy with Sarah, though,’ my inner voice irritatingly pointed out, as if I wasn’t only too well aware.

  I sighed. I didn’t have the strength to do battle with my inner self today. Still in the grips of introspective humour, I turned slowly in Nick’s direction and caught him studying my profile. Quickly he looked away.

  The sun was no longer high in the sky and a cool breeze blew in from the sea. I shivered. Getting to my feet, I picked up my jacket and placed it around my shoulders. Baron and Casper, now rested, started chasing each other around the monument. I bent to pick up the camera and remembered the terrier.

  ‘Where’s the other dog?’ I asked, looking down the escarpment.

  ‘What other dog?’

  ‘The terrier.’

  ‘Didn’t see one.’

  ‘It was running with Baron and Casper.’

  Nick got to his feet and surveyed the hillside below. ‘Really? It’s not there now. Must have returned to its owner.’

  I scanned the slopes below but there was no sign of the dog. Somewhere buried deep within my subconscious I knew there wouldn’t be, but I was yet to acknowledge the truth of the terrier being long dead.

  Nick checked his watch.

  ‘Just checking how much longer he’s got before returning to the girlfriend,’ said my unhelpful, inner voice.

  ‘What are you doing now?’ he asked.

  ‘Going home, I guess.’

  ‘Why don’t you come back to the barn? There’s still enough light for you to take more photos for the magazine.’

  ‘That’s not such a bad idea,’ I replied, wondering what Sarah would make of me just turning up unannounced, especially as the subject of extra photographs caused her such consternation.

  He called to the dogs and they obediently came to heel. As we walked back to the car park I looked around for his Nissan.

  ‘Where’s your pickup?’ I asked.

  ‘At the garage. Brake problems.’ He laughed and pointed to the mauve Ford Ka parked alongside mine. ‘I’m driving Sarah’s. It’s a bit of a squash for these two rebels.’

  He opened the hatchback and Baron and Casper jumped in. Sitting huddled together as Nick closed the tailgate, they peered out with their noses pressed against the rear window.

  ‘Do you want to follow me?’ he asked. ‘Or do you remember where the barn is?’

  I remembered all right – how could I not? All roads led to the barn; it was imprinted on my heart. But I said I was unsure and would follow him.

  14

  Turning left out of the car park, we followed the road for a couple of miles heading west. As we neared the Ashton Chase turning, I started to feel nervous at the thought of meeting Sarah again. I knew she would think I’d engineered this visit, even though it was a completely random event. Firmly, I told myself I was more than capable of handling whatever she threw at me and that I would maintain my composure.

  We drove past the main house owned by Nick’s friends; a glorious, mellow stone, Georgian mansion set in extensive mature grounds. Through the trees, I glimpsed a tennis court and a swimming pool. Continuing along the lane leading up to the farm with its myriad of rambling outbuildings, we turned a corner and skirted the hill that formed the backdrop to Nick’s barn. Even though I knew what to expect, I switched off the engine and sat for a moment, savouring the panoramic vista down the valley to the sea beyond. The view would be wonderful in all seasons. It was simply glorious.

  By now, the dogs were out of the car and gambolling around the lawn on the top terrace. I waited with bated breath for Sarah to appear at the front door, demanding to know why I was there. But the door remained firmly closed. I grabbed my camera, climbed out of the car and glanced over at Nick. Shielding his eyes, he stared intently at the sky.

  ‘See the buzzards, Maddie?’

  I followed his gaze. Two birds of prey wheeled slowly and majestically on the thermals high above the valley.

  ‘How can you tell they’re buzzards?’

  ‘They’re easy to spot by the way they soar with their wings held in that distinctive shallow V-shape. There’s often a white patch on the underside of the wings, too. We always get this pair here,’ he added. ‘This valley is their special place.’

  I focused the camera and took several photographs of the birds and the view, and even managed to get Nick in a couple of shots without him noticing. We watched the raptors a while longer before he turned and walked towards the barn. Extracting a key from his back
pocket, he unlocked the porch door. As he entered, he tossed the key into a wooden bowl on a small side table and glanced back at me.

  ‘Feel free to take whatever photos you think necessary.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll take a couple of shots of the barn from the top terrace and I definitely want to get the lake in the late afternoon sun.’

  ‘I’ll follow you down. Just need to check the answerphone.’

  I stood savouring the solitude. The only sound was the machine replaying its messages. The seclusion was wonderful; it was so peaceful. If I lived here I knew I would never want to leave.

  From the top terrace, I took photographs of the barn at varying angles. The dogs thought it great fun I was still around and came bounding up, charging around my legs and accompanying me down the steps to the middle terrace. As I stood on the edge photographing the lake below, they leapt off and dashed across the lower lawn to its perimeter. Startled by the sudden intrusion, two moorhens called in alarm and hurriedly paddled across the lake’s flat surface before disappearing amongst the reeds.

  ‘Casper!’

  Nick stood on the top terrace and called to the dog as it waded into the lake. Leaping down the roughly hewn stone steps, he called again. The pointer hesitated, remaining in the shallows.

  ‘Just look at that dog. I know exactly what he’s doing. He thinks if he stays at the edge I’ll be hoodwinked into thinking he’s obeying me, but as soon as my back’s turned he’ll be after those moorhens.’

  I laughed.

  ‘Casper, I’m watching you,’ he said sternly.

  ‘He’s very handsome,’ I commented, ‘as is Baron.’

  ‘Yes, they’re a good pair and good mates. Casper, come.’

  Again, I wondered where his girlfriend was. On edge at not knowing, I half-expected her to appear at any moment. I took a deep breath. ‘Is Sarah at home?’

  ‘No. She’s gone to London for a few days. Needed a break.’

  My heart thumped so loudly I thought he might hear.

  ‘When Becky said she was going up to the smoke to visit her mum Sarah jumped at the chance.’

  Why did Sarah need a break? If I had a life with Nick I would be reluctant to leave for any reason.

  ‘It’s good to get away once in a while,’ I said, trying not to sound too ecstatic.

  The light was diminishing fast and, with it, the temperature.

  ‘Sun’s going down,’ Nick observed. ‘Let’s go indoors and I’ll fix us a drink.’ Checking himself, he added, almost shyly, ‘if you’d like one, that is.’

  I glanced at him, surprised by the uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t meet my gaze.

  ‘That sounds an excellent idea,’ I answered warmly.

  As he turned towards the barn I saw him smile.

  Even though it was early, Nick poured me a gin and tonic and a beer for himself and while I sat on the couch with Casper sprawling beside me, he lit the wood burner. At last I started to relax, and the strange, brooding mood that had besieged me all day finally lifted. Baron briefly deigned to place his chin on my knee so I could stroke his head, but as soon as Nick sat down he left me to sit at his master’s feet. Outside, dusk swirled around the barn but inside it felt cosy and safe. Warmed by the heat of the fire, I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly, the tension leaving my body for the first time that day. When I opened them again I found Nick studying me.

  ‘You look the picture of contentment,’ he commented.

  ‘I do feel very comfortable.’ Absently, I fondled the pointer’s ears.

  ‘That’s good.’ He took a slug of beer. ‘Do you miss your former life, Maddie?’

  I considered his question.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ I replied truthfully. ‘I thought I might miss the wine bars and the constant partying the film industry enjoys, but I’ve obviously outgrown that.’ I sipped my drink. ‘I really enjoy working at the Blacksmith’s and Brian’s a great boss. Maybe it’s replaced that particular need.’

  ‘Yeah, Brian’s a good bloke,’ Nick said, ‘and he and Vera have turned that pub around. It was dire a few years back. When they first took it over we all thought its previous reputation might prevent them from making a go of it.’

  ‘Obviously a bad reputation doesn’t stand a chance against sheer personality,’ I suggested.

  Nick laughed. ‘That’s for sure. He’s certainly no shrinking violet.’

  ‘I expect Brian could get a party going at the frostiest of gatherings,’ I added.

  Raising his eyebrows, he nodded in agreement. I remembered he’d said his family spanned generations in Dorset and I asked if there were still any members in the area. He told me that Helen and Peter lived in a village just outside Poole and his mother still resided at the family home in Melcombe Bingham.

  ‘Dad passed away five years ago and, as you know, my brother flew the nest for a warmer climate many years back. There are plenty of cousins around, though. We get together from time to time, mostly family gatherings.’

  ‘How far back can you trace your family?’ I asked.

  ‘When Dad died his brother felt the need to look into the family history. Said he’d traced us back to the seventeenth century.’

  ‘My sister, Martha, researched our family tree for a school project once, but she was unable to get further back than the mid-nineteenth century. We put it down to the O’Briens having a murky past and not wanting to be traced.’

  He laughed.

  Dusk had now turned to night. Stretching across the couch, Nick switched on a side lamp, which cast a soft light across the room.

  ‘The other week, when I fitted your bread oven door, you asked me what I’d seen,’ he said, quietly serious.

  I nodded, though he was not looking at me.

  ‘Well…’ he paused, his eyes meeting mine ‘…I saw you and two children dancing in a circle.’

  A bolt of electricity shot through me. ‘You saw it too!’

  He nodded slowly. ‘I did, although I couldn’t believe it. It was only when I was at the workshop the following day and saw the sculpture in the courtyard that I realised what I’d seen.’ He looked troubled. ‘It’s an odd thing. When I first started working on that piece I had no idea what I was creating. When it finally evolved into the mother and children it seemed to me that the piece had a life of its own.’

  I had never felt so alive. There had to be some connection between Nick and me; I felt it in my bones. Dan hadn’t witnessed any happenings in the cottage. He simply thought I was unwell and hallucinating when I experienced the visions. I was sure this feeling of complete familiarity with Nick was not just down to wishful thinking.

  ‘My sister, Mo, is very sensitive and views life on a different plane,’ I said. ‘We always tease her she’s psychic. When she stayed with me recently she saw a figure on the stairs – a man dressed in rough work clothes.’

  He looked at me sharply and there was something in his eyes I didn’t quite understand.

  ‘I, too, have seen a man in the cottage on several occasions and at a graveside in the church at Shipton Gorge,’ I continued. ‘I saw the same man today below the Hardy Monument. I don’t know what it all means but Mrs McKendrick, the previous owner of The Olde Smithy, well… I think she may have witnessed things too.’

  Nick listened attentively.

  ‘She told me that although she lived in the cottage for over thirty years she was only ever looking after it for me. That’s really odd, don’t you think?’

  The look in his eyes seemed one of recollection.

  ‘Yes, that’s an unusual thing to say,’ he said carefully.

  ‘And she always called me Mary, although her daughter dismissed this as senility.’

  He looked shaken and for a moment couldn’t look at me.

  ‘Did you get the jewellery checked out, Maddie?’

  I told him I’d taken the pieces to Professor Stephens who had verified they were very old, possibly dating back to the sixteen hundreds.

  ‘He’
s carrying out further tests,’ I added.

  ‘It seems to me there’s a story to your cottage. You should write about it. It might begin to make sense.’

  ‘I have been keeping a diary of events.’

  He fell silent for a while and then said, ‘It may be that whoever is bound to your cottage needs to be given the opportunity to move on.’

  The temperature in the room turned to ice and I started to shiver uncontrollably.

  ‘Are you OK, Maddie?’ he asked with concern.

  ‘Yes, it’s just what you said…’

  Opening the door to the wood burner, he threw on another log.

  I hesitated before continuing. ‘Do you believe in ghosts, Nick?’

  ‘Not the white sheet and two eye holes kind, but I think there’s a lot in this world that can’t be rationally explained. I like to keep an open mind on the subject.’

  ‘But I wonder why I’m experiencing these things?’ I said in bewilderment. ‘What am I to the story?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m sure it will become clear in time. Maybe you are the catalyst for this spirit to settle whatever remains unresolved.’

  I was surprised and pleased to find that I could discuss my experiences so openly with Nick.

  ‘Do you think the cottage needs to be exorcised?’ he continued.

  ‘No, it’s not an evil presence. It’s benign and so full of love, it takes my breath away. But, I seem to tap into very deep levels of emotion that have nothing to do with my own life.’ I paused before continuing, ‘I know this sounds really far-fetched but I think, somehow, a past life is living again through me.’

  I knew how that sounded and hoped he didn’t think I was completely mad. But Nick didn’t make light of it.

  ‘Promise me, Maddie, if you ever feel frightened you will phone me.’

  I was overwhelmed by his concern and a lump started to form in my throat.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what time of day or night it is.’

  ‘So near and yet so far,’ my inner voice taunted.

  I swallowed hard and thanked him, thinking all the while that Sarah would be really chuffed if I phoned at two in the morning.