Master of the Scrolls

by Benjamin Ford

  ‘Damn,’ muttered Gloria suddenly as they awaited the arrival of their meal, ‘I forgot to call the British Library!’

  ‘What are you looking for in the British Library?’

  ‘I’m looking for two novels written by a woman called Isabella Neville.’ Gloria noticed her mother frown at the mention of the name. ‘Does that name mean anything to you?’

  Rachel chewed at her thumbnail thoughtfully, still frowning. ‘I’m not sure. The name rings a bell, but I can’t think where I’ve heard it. What do you know of this woman and her novels?’

  ‘She wrote the books in her lifetime, in the Sixteenth Century, but they were unpublished until 1865.’

  Rachel’s face lit up and she snapped her fingers. ‘I’ve got it. She was married to one James Trevayne.’

  ‘That’s right. So you’ve heard of her then?’

  Rachel nodded enthusiastically. ‘Oh yes. King of Saints was required reading while I was at school. I remember because the book was dedicated to her husband, James Trevayne, and my great-grandfather was also called James Trevayne.’ She chuckled to herself. ‘I liked to pretend I was a descendent of Isabella’s, but I could never con anyone into believing it.’

  ‘King of Saints was the title of one of her novels?’

  ‘Yes, and the other was Realm of Dark Knights, if memory serves me correctly.’

  The conversation drifted into silence as the waiter finally brought out their meals, which the pair then tucked into hungrily. They continued to chat between mouthfuls.

  ‘I tried to find copies at Crowborough library, but they didn’t seem to have either of them, but then again I didn’t know the titles till you said them. I was sure the British Library would have a copy of them though.’

  ‘There’s no need to go there, darling. I kept all of my school books, and I kept my copy of King of Saints, even though it belonged to the school!’

  Gloria laughed. ‘You pinched a school book? That was a bit naughty, Mother.’

  ‘I know, but I didn’t do it deliberately. Honest.’

  ‘I’ll believe you, though thousands wouldn’t. Do you also have a copy of the other book?’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘No, but I know where you can get a copy, free of charge, to read at your leisure.’ She stared pointedly down her nose at Gloria, and the younger woman knew instinctively where her mother meant.

  ‘At Ravenscreag Hall?’ she questioned in a half-whisper. She had almost forgotten about her grandmother’s extensive private library on the first floor of the immense old house.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Gloria sighed deeply. She had deliberately avoided returning to Ravenscreag Hall for years because of the dreams, but now they had followed her down south there seemed little point in staying away any longer.

  At once, she decided to take up her grandmother’s birthday card request. She could look for Isabella’s two novels at the same time.

  ‘I’ve decided to visit Nana Turner,’ she announced suddenly.

  ‘And not before time, I might add!’ Rachel scolded. ‘Mother’s been on my back for months, trying to get me to persuade you to visit.’

  ‘It’s a good job you didn’t try, Mother, because you would have met with little success in persuading me to go up there.’

  ‘Oh. Why’s that?’

  Gloria shrugged, unwilling to delve into her subconscious fears of her grandmother’s house. ‘I’d rather not go into it. Let’s just say I’ve had my reasons in the past.’

  ‘It’s to do with those wretched dreams, isn’t it?’ demanded Rachel, and Gloria nodded. ‘I knew it. So why have you had this sudden change of heart, then?’ When Gloria told her mother about the re-emergence of the dream, Rachel said, ‘So you accept now that the dreams have nothing to do with Ravenscreag Hall?’

  ‘Yes, Mother, I accept that now.’ Gloria decided against revealing the possible connection between the dream and Isabella Neville, and though the arrival of the waiter to take away their empty plates saved her from a further inquisition, she knew she would not be able to avoid her mother’s prying questions for long.

  *

  Before embarking on her trip to Scotland, Gloria first paid a visit to the London office of Isolde Bainbridge.

  Isolde ushered Gloria into her cramped office, clearly surprised to see her, ‘I wasn’t expecting you until Friday.’

  ‘My parents cut short their trip to Scotland because my mother’s oldest friend is ill, and tomorrow I’m off to Scotland myself.’

  ‘You’re going to Scotland?’

  Gloria nodded. ‘I have a spot of personal business to take care of, and besides, I haven’t seen my grandmother for years.’

  Isolde ran a hand through her close-cropped blonde hair. ‘That’s nobody’s fault but your own, Gloria, as well you know.’

  ‘Yes, I haven’t forgotten, and before you ask how my new novel’s coming along, I lied. I’ve only just started researching it, which is another reason I’m off to Scotland. Nana Turner has the most amazing library imaginable. I can look at the books at my leisure, and never have to worry about the library closing.’

  ‘I kind of guessed you’d lied. So, how long will you be gone?’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’ll be gone as long as it takes.’

  ‘What about your deadline?’ sighed Isolde, mildly annoyed at her client’s apparent lack of motivation.

  ‘The deadline Victor set is impossible to meet; besides, I didn’t agree to it. I’m working on a completely unfamiliar period of history, so I have a lot of research to do. It will take me a year at the very least to complete the novel.’

  ‘A whole year,’ wailed Isolde incredulously.

  Smiling, Gloria nodded. ‘That’s right. It’s not a problem, is it?’

  ‘Listen, Gloria, when we say six months it takes you a year; when you say a year I can guarantee you’ll take two, and that’s just not on!’

  Gloria held up her hand. ‘Okay, Isolde, I’ll freely admit that in the past I’ve never met the deadlines, and you’ve been incredibly patient with me, and so has Victor. They have all been deadlines he set, and if I had had my own way, I’d have set a year for each one, and then I would have met them all, wouldn’t I? I guess that in the past I just wasn’t assertive enough to make you both understand. But now I am, and I’m setting my own deadline… which you know I will meet without any difficulty.’

  Isolde nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right of course. I’m sorry. I can wait, you know that, but Victor grows ever more impatient with your lack of discipline. I shall have a word with him to smooth things over.’

  Gloria waved her hand dismissively. ‘Thanks, Isolde. I can understand how frustrated you must be. You have possibly the most frustrating job in the world… being my agent!’

  Laughing, Isolde nodded again. ‘How very true, but the results are always well worth the wait… without exception. So tell me then, what’s the new one about?’

  ‘It’s going to be more of a mystery thriller, set in the past, blended with a romance… can’t let my fans down, after all. More than that, I’m not prepared to say. Have no fear, Isolde, as always you’ll be the first to read the finished manuscript.’

  Isolde was intrigued, but did not press her client as she knew it would do no good, and besides, not knowing what Gloria’s new novel was going to be about made it all the more exciting.

  Gloria began to wonder whether Isolde had become paranoid about deadlines, but as she left the office in Bedford Square, and strolled in the glorious midmorning sun down Tottenham Court Road towards Oxford Street, the thought vanished from her mind. She picked up her car from where she had parked it down a side street, thankful for the fact that she had not received a parking ticket, and on impulse decided to pay a visit to the Eaton Square home of Daniel and Susan Barncroft.

  It was quite some time since Gloria had last been at their apartment occupying the third and fourth floors, and even longer still since she had seen Daniel, who was u
sually working at his bank whenever she had called round in the past, but on this occasion, he answered the door.

  ‘My God, Gloria!’ he cried in surprise when he saw her on the doorstep. ‘It’s been so long. Come on in.’ He practically dragged her into the mid-terraced, whitewashed six storey house.

  ‘Daniel! I didn’t expect to see you here at this time of day.’

  ‘I can’t think why not, after all, I am retired now.’

  Gloria giggled, half apologetically, half incredulously. ‘Of course you are. I had clean forgotten about that. Sorry.’

  Daniel, who had worn his years well and certainly did not look his age, spread his arms expansively. ‘It doesn’t matter, Gloria. I should think the bank was glad to see the back of me. I know I was certainly glad to see the back of the bank. I worked for them all my adult life. I was manager, and they asked me to retire at sixty!’

  ‘Well that’s becoming standard policy everywhere, Daniel,’ Gloria explained.

  ‘Well it’s not standard policy for me. I would have had to go five years on just my bank pension. I loved that job, in spite of everything, and wanted to stay on until I was sixty-five, so they bloody demoted me to assistant manager! Can you believe the cheek of it? Taking orders from a thirty-five year old high flyer who suggested I should retire almost every other month! For the last five years I have played second fiddle to an upstart who thought he was better than me, even though I’ve got a lifetime more experience than him.’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘Maybe you should have resigned when they wanted you to?’

  ‘I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Besides, I had the last laugh as it turns out. After I left, that upstart only lasted another two months. He couldn’t cope without my experience to draw on, and they sacked him. The last I heard he’d been turned down by three other banks and is now working at a building society where he’s the most junior member of staff, even though most of his colleagues are younger than him!’

  Gloria could not help laughing. ‘You could say he had a taste of his own medicine! Tell me then, Daniel, how are you enjoying your retirement?’

  ‘I’m having the time of my life. Until I left I never knew how exhausting being the manager of a bank was. Now I am enjoying total relaxation. I’m even writing a novel!’

  ‘Isn’t everyone?’ laughed Gloria. ‘And are you finding it easy?’

  For a moment, Daniel was evasive. ‘Well, you would have to ask that, wouldn’t you? Okay, yes, I am finding it a struggle. The respect I have for you has multiplied over the past few months. I was wrong to think writing a novel would be a pushover!’

  Gloria agreed wholeheartedly, ‘No, it isn’t, and now you’ve admitted that, you might find it a little easier. So, what’s your novel about, Daniel?’

  Daniel tapped the side of his nose. ‘That’s a secret for the moment. Come on through to the drawing room. Susan has nipped out for one of her far too regular sojourns to Harrods. I expect she’ll be back around lunchtime, if you’d like to wait. What are you doing here, anyway? It’s a bit out of the way for you, isn’t it?’

  Gloria grinned. ‘Sometimes I like to be a little unpredictable. I had to come up to London today to see Isolde, and I thought it was high time I paid Susan a visit. And so here I am, and here you are, and Susan’s not here.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘At least you’ve broken the monotony of my day,’ Daniel muttered.

  Gloria was about to ask why his day was monotonous when he had just said how much he was enjoying his retirement, but she decided against it, realising her own writing days were at times monotonous.

  The pair sat in the decorous, elegantly proportioned drawing room, sipping the tea which Daniel had disappeared into the kitchen to make, chatting about old times and catching up on what each had been doing since they had last seen one another.

  ‘What I want to know is when you and Allan are going to get married!’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘When he proposes, I guess. I would love to get married and have kids, but there’s plenty of time for that yet!’

  ‘Please, just don’t leave it too late, Gloria,’ begged Daniel, who would personally have loved nothing more than to become a grandfather, if only because he could then light-heartedly call Susan Grandma.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, Daniel,’ began Gloria, hardly conscious of her words. ‘If Allan hasn’t proposed to me by then, I’ll pop the question to him next February the twenty-ninth. What do you say?’

  ‘I think that’s a grand idea.’

  ‘I spoke to Allan on the phone yesterday. He’s coming home in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘That’ll be wonderful,’ enthused Daniel who, like Gloria, wished his son would choose safer assignments in England, and he reiterated his desire to Gloria.

  ‘I’ve thought of asking him so many times, Daniel, but we both know how pointless it is!’

  ‘How long has he been gone this time?’

  ‘Too long,’ moaned Gloria. ‘Maybe he’ll take more notice of you and Susan when he comes back this time? Would you both talk to him?’

  ‘I’ll have a word with Susan. We will at least try. Maybe we could even mention that you were upset and visited us to voice your concerns about the future of your relationship with him?’

  A worried frown creased Gloria’s face, and she touched Daniel’s arm lightly. ‘No, don’t do that. I wouldn’t want to jeopardise our relationship by giving Allan the impression he has to choose between his career and me. That’s not fair on him. I can’t really complain, after all, I did know about his job when I first fell in love with him.’

  Daniel inclined his head, smiling. ‘Have no fear, my dear, I understand. I’d hate to risk never having you as a daughter-in-law, and Susan would never forgive me.’

  The drawing room door opened, and Susan herself appeared. ‘I would never forgive you for what, darling?’ She smiled at Gloria. ‘Hello, Gloria, this is an unexpected surprise.’

  ‘It’s good to see you again, Susan,’ Gloria responded, hastening across the room to hug her warmly.

  ‘It’s been quite a while since your last visit.’

  ‘I know, and I’m really very sorry about that,’ apologised Gloria. ‘When I get caught up in my writing, time just flies by. It’s very difficult to socialise and please an impatient agent at the same time.’

  As Susan threw back her wrinkle-free, silver-maned head and roared with laughter, Gloria secretly hoped she would look as good as this radiant sexagenarian did when she reached the same age.

  ‘Really, there’s no need to apologise, Gloria. We all know what it’s like for you… you’ve told us often enough.’ There was no bitter sarcasm or malicious rapprochement in Susan’s gentle voice. ‘And I’m sure Isolde is not impatient! You’ve always said what a treasure she is.’

  ‘You are as always quite correct, Susan. Isolde has to be about the most patient person in the whole world. Lord alone knows how she manages to contain her anger when I miss Victor’s deadlines by months, leaving her in the awkward position of smoothing things over. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never once known her to really lose her temper.’

  The trio moved into the kitchen, where Gloria helped Susan prepare a salad lunch, continuing to chat all the way through the light meal.

  ‘I’m off to Scotland tomorrow, so if either Allan or Lou tries to reach me, give them the number for Ravenscreag Hall – you do still have the number?’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ replied Susan, dabbing the corners of her mouth delicately with the edge of her yellow damask napkin. She glanced at Gloria curiously. ‘But why this sudden urge to visit Ravenscreag? You haven’t been there for absolutely years.’

  ‘Exactly! Could I have a better reason for visiting? Nana Turner has probably forgotten what I look like. Every year in my birthday card she asks when I am going to visit her, and every year I manage to find some new feeble excuse not to go. I cannot go on forever, thinking up one lame excuse after another. I have to face m
y demons at some point.’

  ‘You mean the dream?’ questioned Daniel softly.

  Years ago, not long after Gloria and Louise had visited Ravenscreag Hall together, Gloria had confided in Susan and Daniel about the terror she had felt within the nightmare visions. They had asked her at the time why she did not tell her parents, to which she replied that she had, but Rachel and Jeremy thought she was paranoid.

  ‘What about your grandmother?’ Susan had asked.

  ‘She tells me that your dreams cannot harm you. But I think they can,’ Gloria had replied.

  Between them, Daniel and Susan had convinced Gloria of the wisdom in her grandmother’s words, and they had told her that if she was worried about anything else, at any time, she could always confide in them.

  Now she remembered their kind words of fourteen years ago, she decided this was the reason she had made the subconscious decision to visit them.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it’s the dream again.’ She told them about how the dream had suddenly reappeared for the first time in over a decade, and about how, for the first time ever, it had manifested itself in her thoughts outside the boundary walls of Ravenscreag Hall, and how frighteningly real it seemed. ‘I have this terrible fear, gnawing away inside me,’ she said. ‘I feel as though the restless spirit of that poor woman is reaching out through my dreams, trying to control my mind and take over my body. I don’t know what she wants, or if she really is Isabella Neville or Trevayne, or whatever.’

  She interchanged glances between Daniel and Susan. ‘Am I going mad?’

  Susan caught her husband’s eye as she opened her mouth to say something, and he shook his head surreptitiously, warning her to remain silent. He knew what she was going to say and now was not the time. She instead laid a reassuring hand on Gloria’s tightly clenched fists, and smiled warmly. ‘No, Gloria. I’m sure you’re not going mad, and I don’t think this murdered woman’s spirit is trying to possess you. There’s probably a very sensible, logical and rational explanation for everything that’s happened.’