‘I take it you’re talking about Samuel, and not George!’
‘Yes, my dear, please try to keep up! Either Wilma McFadyen, Phil’s sister, was possessed by Samuel Wylams, or she was his true reincarnation, but now that she is dead, so his spirit is dead. He cannot inhabit someone else’s body.’
‘How do you know that? What’s to stop him possessing someone, or being reincarnated again in the future?’
‘Are you sure you’re ready for the answer to that question, my dear?’ When Louise nodded, Mary took a deep breath. ‘After her death, which was a tragic accident, I made certain that her head was removed from her body. So long as the two parts of the spirit within a person’s body are prevented from rejoining, the spirit cannot escape, neither may it be called up, and so reincarnation or possession of an innocent cannot take place. The grave in the village cemetery bearing her name contains only her body. Her head is elsewhere, somewhere nobody can find it.’
‘Okay, okay, that was way too much information, and some stuff in there I didn’t fully understand, but it doesn’t matter because I don’t think I want to understand! All I know is that Samuel can’t come back!’
‘That is a good summary, my dear. I suppose you want me to answer the question that’s on your mind?’
‘And what would that be, Mary?’
‘You wish to know whose spirit resides within the innocent body of George Palmer!’
‘So he is possessed by someone?’
Mary nodded. ‘Yes and a vengeful spirit to be sure, but not Sawyl Gwilym! He could be dangerous, but your brother will be there to protect Gloria when the time arrives!’
‘But who is he?’ shrieked Louise in frustration.
‘It’s a name that will mean nothing to you, but one that will mean everything to Gloria, and in time to Allan.’
‘So you’re not going to tell me, then?’
Mary shook her head. ‘Not at the moment. The others are all on their way up here, so you won’t have long to wait!’
‘Who’s on their way? Not George?’
Mary nodded. ‘Soon everyone shall be here, and then it will all be over. Gloria, Allan, George and Phil, your parents and Gloria’s parents will all be here for the wedding.’
‘What wedding? Mary, you really have an annoying habit of speaking in riddles!’
‘I know. I’m sorry, my dear, it’s not always easy to make sense of the things Thaumaturgia tells me. The wedding is that between your brother and Gloria.’
Louise’s mood cheered up immeasurably. ‘They are to be married?’
‘There will be a wedding, but...’ Mary paused and sighed. ‘On the wall, on the other side of the door… notice if you will the portrait.’
Louise turned and regarded the impressive six-foot by four-foot portrait of a handsome man, a beautiful woman and their daughter, who looked about five. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘It’s a portrait of my grandparents, James and Victoria, and my mother as a child.’ She motioned Louise to take a closer look. As she stood looking at the painting, squinting as she recognised one of the subjects, Mary continued in her small but clear voice. ‘You might also say it’s a painting of James Trevayne, Ria Snowfield and the girl their baby would have grown up to become, had they not been burned alive.’
She moved to join Louise in front of the painting, linking her arm through that of the younger woman. ‘They make a lovely couple, don’t they?’ She glanced up at Louise’s shocked face. ‘Ah, I see you do recognise her. Think of their names. Gloria Schofield became Ria Snowfield, married James Trevayne, and became Victoria Trevayne.’
Louise shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘No! No, it’s not possible! It’s horrible! I thought we were getting Gloria back!’
Sadly, Mary shook her own head. ‘No, my dear, Gloria had to go to the Sixteenth Century in order to meet James, but their destiny lies in the mid Nineteenth Century. She must go back to that time, you see, otherwise I won’t ever be born… she won’t be born!’
‘Your granddaughter is your grandmother! Gloria is really her own ancestor!’
‘Yes, my dear.’
It was too much for Louise to take in, and she passed out in a crumpled heap at Mary’s feet.
*
The other passengers in the dining car stared at the three couples who seemed to dominate proceedings with their infectious chatter and laughter, wondering why their merriment seemed tinged with sadness.
Rachel leaned into the centre of the table she shared with Jeremy and Susan, whispering conspiratorially. ‘You realise everyone else is trying to listen in on our conversation!’
‘Why would they want to do that?’ asked Gloria, kneeling behind them and leaning over the back of her seat to join in.
‘Have you not noticed how stuffy everyone else is?’
‘No, Mother, I’m enjoying myself too much to take notice of anyone else!’
Allan nudged her in the ribs, and she turned to glare at him petulantly. ‘We’re not supposed to be enjoying our-selves,’ he said, ‘not with everything that’s been happening!’
Gloria sighed and sat back down to face Daniel. ‘Your son is such a spoilsport, but he’s right! We’re going to Ravenscreag to get some answers from Nana Turner, once and for all. Amnesia or not, I need to know everything that she knows.’
Allan was staring at his father. ‘Why are you going up there, Dad?’
Daniel almost seemed to jump, as though lost in some other world. His son’s words snapped him sharply back, he looked past Allan at his wife for guidance, and she nodded imperceptibly. ‘Are you sure this is the right place for this? Perhaps it would be better in private?’
Susan leaned forward. ‘Just keep your voice down! They’ll all soon get bored with us when we stop laughing.’
‘Okay Allan.’ Daniel took a deep breath. ‘Do you remember your nightmares?’
Allan swallowed loudly. ‘Yes, and they’ve returned!’
‘What nightmares are these?’ gasped Gloria, perplexed. ‘You’ve never said anything to me about nightmares! You knew all about mine – yet you never told me about yours!’
Daniel laid a hand on Gloria’s arm. ‘To be fair to Allan, he doesn’t talk to anyone about them, not after what happened when… when...’ His voice tailed off as though the memory of something from the past terrified him.
Susan came over, shoved her husband up the seat, and took a deep breath. ‘Are you ready to hear this, Gloria?’
‘Yes!’ Gloria cried eagerly. ‘Just get on with it!’
‘Do you remember last month, when you came to visit us and told us about your fears that Isabella’s spirit was trying to take you over, and I said it was just a dream?’ Gloria nodded. ‘Well, did you not wonder why I didn’t think you were deranged with such a wild tale?’
‘A little, I guess. I just thought you were trying to keep me calm!’
Susan shook her head. ‘No. It was because we have seen it before. When Allan was little more than a baby, he started to have nightmares. He would wake up screaming night after night after night. We didn’t know what was going on. He was too young and too afraid to tell us what his dreams were about, but when he was eight, we took him to a child psychologist. He thought Allan must have been traumatised by something when he was younger. I thought he was going to call a social worker, threaten to have Allan taken away from us, and accuse us of being bad parents.’
‘He instead suggested hypnotism… a past life regression! He believed Allan was suffering from periodic flashes of memory from a previous life!’
‘Oh!’ gasped Gloria, startled by Daniel’s statement. ‘What happened?’
‘He regressed Allan to his past lives… his past life! It turns out that Allan once lived in the Sixteenth Century.’
Something snapped within Gloria’s mind as the image of Samuel Wylams came before her. She almost screamed, pushing herself away from Allan to stand in the centre of the dining car. ‘Oh my God, I remember! I remember �
� Samuel Wylams!’ She was beginning to hyperventilate as she stared at Allan in horror. ‘I remember it all now; my life with James, the execution of Samuel, the birth of my daughter, the burning of the house… everything!’
The sudden influx of memories bursting the dam that had blocked them caused a wave of dizziness. She clutched at the back of the seat on which Susan and Daniel sat, pointing at Allan. ‘He’s Samuel Wylams! You stay away from me, you inhuman monster!’
Gloria’s voice was rising with hysteria, and Susan rose to her feet, hugging her tight. ‘It’s all right, Gloria. He’s not Samuel!’
As she fought to subdue the tide of tears, Gloria wiped her eyes on her sleeve and stared at Susan. ‘He’s not Samuel Wylams?’ Susan shook her head. ‘But he looks like him! I was there, I saw him! He has to be Samuel’s reincarnation!’
‘Well he’s not. Come on, sit down – people are staring again!’
Breathing deeply to control herself, Gloria sat next to Allan once more, noting that he seemed to have taken her outburst with a degree of calm that even she felt was odd. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
He smiled enigmatically. ‘Worry not, my love.’
Gloria glanced at Allan curiously. There was something peculiarly familiar about him, and it was not from him being Allan. She turned her attention back to Susan. ‘Sorry, please continue!’
‘You are right to be frightened, Gloria, but not about Allan. When he was regressed, it was an experience that freaked us all out, not least the psychologist, who later admitted it was the first time he had successfully regressed someone.’
‘So what happened?’
‘He was eight years old, Gloria, yet he spoke in an adult voice. He was talking about how awful it had been to find his wife’s murdered body, and how wonderful it was when he met the woman who would become his second wife, how deeply he loved her, and then how much more he loved her when she produced a beautiful baby girl. He said it was agony to let them go, but he endured, for they lived on in another lifetime.’
At Susan’s words, an uneasy sense of deja-vu filled Gloria’s mind. From the corner of her eye, she surreptitiously watched Allan, who was looking at her with such longing. She pretended not to notice, wanting to hear the end of Susan’s story before jumping to any further wrong conclusions.
‘He spoke with such eloquence and with such passion, that it was clear this man had loved both women in his life, but had a special bond with the second wife. If was horrible, listening to all this coming from the mouth of our eight year old boy. The psychologist then asked the spirit why he had come back to this world, and he said he had to protect the future of his beloved from the Evil One who would seek to destroy her once more, as he sought to destroy her before. He said he would be with Allan as a companion until his task was done, but promised that he would remain hidden until the time of resolution was at hand.’
‘And now I have returned, for the time of resolution is upon us at last!’
All eyes at the two tables fixed upon Allan as he spoke. It once again chilled Susan to hear her son speak in the voice of another man. ‘I thank you, for keeping your word and saving my son from his insanity!’
Allan smiled. ‘My intention was never to cause distress. It would seem my conscious mind found its way into your son while still within your womb. For many years, I remained disoriented, trying desperately to make myself heard. I did not realise I was in the body of a child until that doctor produced the doorway through which I could enter into your world.’
He turned to Gloria, whose jaw hung slackly as she listened to his words, listened to his voice, and recognised him. ‘Yes, my love, it is I!’
Gloria was crying freely. ‘James?’ she stammered, touching his face tenderly. ‘Are you really here with me again?’
‘I am bound to you, Gloria. I am bound to protect you, as Isabella once was bound to protect you.’
Through her tears, Gloria shook her head falteringly. ‘I don’t understand. From whom are you protecting me? Is it Samuel? Has he found another vessel through which to exact his vengeance? Who is he this time? Why does Allan look like Samuel if he’s not him?’
James pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her stream of questions. ‘I am a true reincarnation. Thaumaturgia Anathemas once told me the difference between a reincarnation and a lost spirit and a ghost.’
Gloria nodded. ‘I remember – you told me!’
‘Outward appearance matters not in such concerns, my love. I might so easily have been reincarnated in the body of a woman. Mayhap human appearance is simply not unique. Someone somewhere might be born to look exactly like someone else.’
‘That happens even in the same lifetime,’ interjected Rachel. ‘Everyone is said to have a look-alike somewhere in the world.’
‘It saddens me to think that my appearance upsets you, my love, but I cannot help the fact that Allan resembles Samuel.’
‘So who is Samuel this time? I guess Wilma was only possessed by his spirit after all, rather than being his reincarnation!’
James shrugged. ‘I know not for certain, but am assured that when she died, he died!’
Gloria sighed deeply with relief. ‘As long as nobody decides to bring his spirit back. So, who are you protecting me from?’
James shrugged again. ‘I am uncertain. I shall recognise him only when I see him!’
‘How can you possibly do that?’ asked Rachel, who seemed to be taking events well in her stride. ‘If his spirit is inside someone else, how can you tell? I mean, as far as I can see, you are still Allan Barncroft!’
James smiled at her. ‘A spirit who resides within the body of another living being may see other spirits, and may be seen by other spirits. There is no hiding place for the dead!’
‘Has Isabella really left me then?’ asked Gloria.
‘Yes, her task is done. She guided you to me so she could be set free from the prison of your body. Her soul is finally at rest, and when this is over, so shall mine be at rest.’
‘And how will all this end?’ asked Gloria.
‘It shall end,’ said James clearly, ‘when you return to my side!’
‘You mean when I marry Allan?’
He shook his head. ‘No, my love – when you return to my side!’
Before Gloria could question him further, Allan returned to them, a little out of sorts and unable to recall what had happened. They all lapsed into silence, and finished their meal.
Later, in their own compartment, Gloria and Allan faced one another. ‘You’re James!’ she said softly. ‘I can remember everything of my life with him, up to the point when I went back to rescue him and Elizabeth.’
‘What happened? Why didn’t you manage to rescue them?’
‘Neville Manor was on fire. James was tied to a chair. I managed to cut him free, but the ceiling came down. I never got the chance to use the locket. I must have got knocked out, because I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in our house!’
‘What locket?’ Allan asked.
Gloria reached to her breast, clasping her hand around thin air. She moaned in real fear. ‘Oh my God – it’s gone! It was the thing Samuel Wylams spent an eternity looking for. I kept it from him, and now I’ve lost it! My God, what have I done?’
‘What is this locket? Why is it so important?’
Since it was likely that James would reveal all to Allan anyway, Gloria decided it would do no harm to tell him everything, so for the rest of the long overnight journey neither of them slept as Gloria talked while Allan listened.
*
Louise regained consciousness, still crumpled on the floor. She did not know how long she had been out for the count and figured she had just fainted and then come to quickly. She could see the light outside had dimmed into dusk, so realised it must be quite late. Why hadn’t Mary called Phil to help her?
She sat up slowly, wondering what had made her pass out, and then she remembered the painting. She looked up at it, to see Gloria staring do
wn at her. There was no mistake: it was Gloria – but she knew it was not her friend; it was Victoria Trevayne, Gloria’s great-great-grandmother!
She pushed herself backwards on the floor until her back pressed against the side of the bed, and she remained where she was, unable to take her eyes off the painting, unwilling to believe what Mary had just revealed to her.
‘No wonder she never let anyone into the room!’ she whispered to herself.
Finally, she gripped the bedpost and pulled herself up to perch at the foot of the bed, still staring at the portrait.
Gloria and Victoria: the same person.
Inconceivable! Impossible! Incredible!
Yet she could see in the painting before her immutable proof.
From the corner of her eye, she saw something that chilled her heart, and she leapt to her feet, squealing slightly.
Mary Turner lay on the chaise-lounge, eyes open yet staring sightlessly at the painting, her face peaceful, a faint indication of a smile touching the corners of her mouth.
‘Mary?’ Louise gasped, slowly making her way over to the inert figure. She knelt before the old woman, tenderly stroking her white hair. ‘Oh Mary, could you not have held on for just a little while longer?’ She gently closed the old woman’s eyes, and rested her head in Mary’s lap, sobbing gently, and that was where Phil found her some time later.
*
They had to take two taxis from Kingussie station when their train delivered them early the following morning, and finally Gloria and Allan, Rachel and Jeremy, and Susan and Daniel arrived at Ravenscreag Hall.
The first thing Rachel noticed was the condition of the driveway that, though still full of potholes was free of weeds. The windows of the house were clean: Phil clearly still took his responsibilities as caretaker seriously.
The house suddenly seemed oddly less threatening to both Rachel and Gloria, perhaps because of the many secrets revealed to them in the past few weeks. As such, a silly old house, haunted or not, was just that – a silly old house.
‘The house seems different somehow,’ James said, echoing his wife’s thoughts, ‘and I don’t mean just the weed free drive and tidied ivy, not to mention the spotless windows!’
Master of the Scrolls Page 37
