Bourn’s Edge

by Barbara Davies

  Tarian looked around her with interest. On a grassy area, bounded by a belt of trees, families were picnicking, playing ball games, or throwing frisbees. To her left were a steakhouse and grill, a children’s funfair, and a vast expanse of water on which sailing boats were tacking to and fro.

  Cassie saw the direction of her gaze. “Powell’s Pool,” she said.

  Tarian picked up the thread of their previous conversation. “Obviously, someone must have put the attractor in the doll.”

  “I know that, silly. But who? And more to the point why?”

  “The answer to that depends on when.”

  “What?” Cassie blinked at her then shook her head and muttered, “Could this conversation get any more cryptic?”

  Tarian grinned and undid her seat belt. “Think about it. When did the plague of flies first start bothering Louise?”

  Cassie considered. “Sometime last month, I think she said.”

  “And when did she get that doll repaired?”

  “About the same time. Oh!” Blonde eyebrows shot up. “You mean someone at the Doll Hospital put the bean into the doll?”

  Tarian nodded and reached for the door handle.

  “But why?”

  Tarian got out and turned to let out the dogs. They shook themselves, and set about sniffing everything within reach. “A malicious prank?”

  “Some prank! Those flies looked like something out of a biblical plague.”

  “Shall we get some lunch?” Tarian pointed to the steakhouse.

  “Those two slices of coffee cake haven’t gone down yet. And we don’t want to spoil our appetites. Mum and Dad will be stuffing us tonight for certain.” Cassie’s cheeks pinked.

  Her embarrassment made Tarian smile. “They’re allowed to spoil you,” she said. “You’re their only child.”

  “I suppose. No doubt they’ll be trying to impress you too.”

  Tarian was sceptical. Cassie’s parents would be more likely to resent this stranger who had changed their daughter’s life so dramatically. But she said, “Of course.”

  Cassie had been scanning her surroundings and now pointed. Tarian was wondering what a carousel, a go kart track, and swing boats decorated with the skull-and-crossbones could have to do with lunch when she realised Cassie was pointing at the refreshment kiosk. A queue of children showed it was doing a roaring trade.

  “Let’s get some ice cream,” said Cassie, confirming her guess. “That should keep us going until dinner.”

  “All right.”

  They had set off towards the kiosk, the dogs circling them, when they heard a loud “Oi!”

  Tarian halted and looked round. A man in uniform was striding towards them. He stopped in front of them and frowned up at Tarian. “Dogs should be kept on a lead, miss. Especially dogs that size.”

  “Sorry,” said Cassie. “We didn’t know. Is it because of the children?”

  His expression softened as he turned to face her. “No, miss. The wildlife. At this time of year, dogs are in danger of disturbing ground-nesting birds.” Tarian thought it unlikely there were any ground-nesting birds in such a busy part of the park, but he forestalled her objection with, “And because of the bylaws.” He quoted: “‘During April, May and June, in all open areas of the Park, dogs must be kept on leads.’”

  “Oh.” Cassie glanced at Tarian. “We must have missed that sign.”

  Tarian called the dogs to heel. The speed with which they came impressed the ranger though he tried to remain impassive.

  “Their leads are in the car,” she said. “May we fetch them after we’ve had our ice creams?”

  He cocked his head, as if he suspected her of being impertinent. “All right.” His tone was grudging. “But see that you do. Big dogs like those, even if they’re well behaved, can scare people.”

  “Thank you,” said Cassie. “We won’t be long.”

  As he wandered off in search of more lawbreakers, she gave Tarian rueful glance. “They’ve tightened up the rules since I was here last.”

  “When was that?”

  “When I was still at school. We came to walk one of the Nature Trails.”

  Cassie treated them both to a Ninety-nine. Tarian enjoyed it, though she wished they’d been a bit more generous with the stick of flaky chocolate protruding from the vanilla ice cream. She broke up the last of the cornet and tossed it to the dogs, who wolfed it down and looked at her for more.

  “No more until dinner,” said Tarian. “Can’t have you getting fat.” Their expressions were the equivalent of canine outrage, and she smiled as she retrieved the leads from the car’s glove compartment.

  Anwar and Drysi submitted gloomily while she attached the leads to their collars. “I’ll let you off when we get to the woods.” She handed Anwar’s lead to Cassie and took Drysi’s herself, letting it unreel to its fullest extent.

  “Which way?” asked Cassie.

  Tarian pointed to the belt of trees separating the grassy picnic area from the rest of the park. “There’s something I want to investigate.” She had become aware of a tingling energy emanating from that direction. It tugged at her with its familiarity, and was the last thing she had expected to find here.

  “Oh?” Green eyes drilled into her. “What?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s a league in that direction.” Both dogs turned their heads to follow her pointing finger.

  “How far’s a league?” wondered Cassie. “It’s not another of those kidney bean things, is it?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t want to tire you out, but you look all right.” Cassie scrutinised her. “In fact you seem to have perked up since we arrived.”

  “I feel brighter already,” said Tarian. “Shall we take a look?”

  “Okay. We must leave by five at the latest, though. I promised Mum.” Cassie set off in the direction Tarian had pointed, and Tarian followed.

  “Thanks.”

  They walked through the belt of trees and started up the heather-covered slope behind it. The dogs ranged out as far as the leads would allow then circled back, making a game of it, but Tarian grew tired of having her arm almost jerked from its socket, and when the lead threatened to trip up Cassie for the third time told them to stop it. After that, the walking was easier.

  In the sky ahead, dark shapes swooped and banked. Tarian squinted at them in puzzlement. “Crows?” But they didn’t move like birds.

  “Model airplanes,” said Cassie.

  The tingling sensation was getting stronger. Tarian corrected their course, steering more to the right. They crossed the road.

  “Holly Hurst,” said Cassie.

  “What?”

  “That’s where you’re heading. I think it’s one of the oldest woods in the park.”

  There was indeed an area of woodland directly ahead of them. If the density and spiky nature of the trees didn’t prove a deterrent to members of the public, the two-bar fence enclosing them might. They halted in front of it, and Tarian made out the shapes of individual trees and bushes. Oak, holly, alder, silver birch. Native species.

  “There are footpaths, but I don’t think many people use them,” said Cassie. “Odd how I never played here as a child. I was a great one for climbing trees—I must have found this place too daunting. Or prickly. Or both.”

  Anwar and Drysi took advantage of their long leads to duck under the fence and sniff around. Anwar cocked his leg against a tree trunk and returned to Cassie’s side.

  “Are you going to tell me about this feeling?”

  Tarian glanced at her. “I’m fairly certain there’s a crossing into Faerie here. It feels the same as the one in Bourn Forest.”

  Cassie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “I’d like to investigate it. Not now, because we haven’t got time. And I wouldn’t go myself,” she added, before Cassie could object. “I’d send the dogs and ask them to report back.”

  “Oh.” Cassie looked thoughtful. “I don’t suppose that would do
any harm.” She pulled a face. “Trust you to get exiled from Faerie twice.”

  “It’s not as if I planned it,” said Tarian, amused rather than offended. She slipped her arm round Cassie’s waist. “Later then. Shall we head back to the car?”

  “Okay.”

  As they walked back, Cassie was pensive. Tarian was content to leave her to own thoughts while she enjoyed Nature all around her and sucked untainted air into her lungs.

  They had almost reached the belt of trees beyond which lay Powell’s Pool when Cassie said, “About that kidney bean.”

  “Mm?”

  “It’s something only someone from Faerie could have created, isn’t it?”

  Tarian nodded.

  “And now we’ve found this. An entrance to Faerie. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “There are entrances all over the British Isles, Cassie. Though most have fallen into disrepair.”

  “Since you can sense it, let’s suppose this one hasn’t.”

  “All right.”

  “Let’s also suppose a Fae came through it, made his or her way to the Doll Hospital, planted the bean in Louise’s doll and went home again.”

  “It’s not something a Fae would do,” said Tarian, wondering how to put it without being insulting. “We’re a proud people, Cassie. Targeting a mortal at random and from a distance would be . . .”

  “Beneath you?”

  “Mm. Perhaps if Louise had offended a Fae enough for him to bear her a grudge. But even then.” She grimaced. “An ill luck attractor? Unlikely.”

  “But suppose, for argument’s sake, such a thing happened,” said Cassie.

  Tarian sighed. “All right.”

  “Have you sensed any Fae in the vicinity?”

  “Apart from me?” She shook her head.

  “Bang goes that theory.” Cassie wrinkled her nose. “More to the point,” she said, as though speaking to herself, “where is Louise likely to have come across, let alone offended, any of the Fae?”

  “Where indeed?”

  The car came into view, and they shortened the dogs’ leads in case the park ranger was lurking. Cassie felt in her jacket pocket for her car keys and pointed the fob. Door locks clunked open.

  “So what other explanation is there?” she asked.

  “I don’t know yet.” Tarian opened the back door and urged the dogs up onto the seat. “But I will.”

  Chapter 5

  The wonderful aroma of roasting lamb assailed Cassie’s nostrils. “Mum. Dad. We’re here,” she shouted. She looked back to where Tarian was standing in the porch. “Come in, and bring the dogs.”

  “Cassie!” Her mother appeared from the kitchen and hurried towards her. Cassie found herself enveloped in a hug and felt warm lips pressed to her cheek. Her mother had been to the hairdresser’s recently. In Tarian’s honour? She held Cassie at arm’s length and examined her with a smile. “You’re looking much better than the last time we saw you.”

  “Indeed she is,” said her father, looming, if a man of five-foot-seven could be said to loom. “Thank goodness you’re back safe and sound. Don’t I get a kiss?” He had dressed for the occasion in a new pair of chinos and the navy Argyle sweater she had bought him for Christmas.

  After she’d kissed him fondly on the cheek, Cassie stood back and indicated Tarian. “This is Tarian Brangwen.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Tarian.” Cassie’s mother held out a hand, realised it was greasy, apologised, wiped it on her apron, and held it out again.

  “How do you do, Mrs. Lewis,” said Tarian, shaking it. “And you, Mr. Lewis.” He didn’t offer her his hand, just nodded. Cassie recognised that reserved expression. He hadn’t made up his mind about Tarian yet.

  Anwar let out a whine, and all eyes turned towards him. He licked his chops and nudged the foil-wrapped parcel of meat Tarian was carrying.

  “I’d better feed them,” said Tarian. “Is it all right to take them outside?”

  Cassie’s mother smiled. “Of course, dear. You can get to the back garden through the kitchen.” She pointed.

  Tarian disappeared, followed by the dogs, tails wagging, and Cassie found herself alone with her parents.

  “We were so worried when you disappeared into the back of beyond,” said her father. “We didn’t know what to think.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, Dad. I couldn’t think what else to do.” They’d already had this conversation several times over the phone, but the threat to her life had left him unsettled, and she suspected it would be a while before he stopped rehashing events. “Everything’s all right now,” she soothed. “Armitage is in a coma. He’s no longer a threat.”

  “You shouldn’t have got mixed up with him in the first place.”

  “You can’t choose your landlord, Dad.”

  “Even so.”

  “Oh leave her alone, Rick,” said her mother. “It’s all over, and she’s here and in one piece. Aren’t you, love?” She beamed. “We’re honoured you brought Tarian to meet us.”

  Her father sniffed. “She knows she can always bring her friends home for a visit.”

  It hadn’t been her home for years, but Cassie kept that thought to herself. As for the “friend” remark . . . “Tarian’s much more than a friend,” she protested. “I’m moving in with her.”

  “We know that, silly.” Her mother gave him a sharp glance. “How’s the packing going?” A distant timer pinged. “Never mind. Tell us about it over dinner. I’ve got mint to chop and vegetables to check on.” She disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Silence fell, then Cassie’s father said, “It’s a long way from Birmingham to that Bourn’s Edge of yours.”

  “Not that far.”

  “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” He held her gaze. “You’ve only known her a few weeks.”

  “I’m sure,” said Cassie.

  “How old is she?”

  “Early thirties, I think.” She hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask yet. Tarian looked in her thirties, but the Fae aged more slowly than humans, and learning that Tarian was older than her parents might be . . . disconcerting.

  “She looks like she should be on the catwalk.” He frowned. “What on earth does she want with someone like you?”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He waved a dismissal. “You know what I mean. She’s not been taking advantage of you, has she? Forcing you to do anything you don’t want to?”

  “Dad!” Cassie blushed. What she and Tarian did in the bedroom was none of his business. She was certainly not going to tell him that, when it came to lovemaking, Tarian was knowledgeable and generous, and Cassie for one was eager to repeat the experience as often as possible. “I’m twenty-seven not seven. I can look after myself.”

  He looked sceptical. “Didn’t seem that way when you were on the run.”

  “That was different. Anyway, things turned out all right, didn’t they?” Thanks to Tarian. “In a way, I’m grateful to Armitage. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have met her.”

  He changed tack. “Giving up your perfectly good job at the library too. What will you live on? Is she rich?”

  “I have no idea how much she earns from her paintings. Enough to get by, I imagine. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got myself a new job, Dad. I start next week.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Driving the mobile library.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Driving the—”

  “Don’t be such a snob. It’s not that different from what I was doing in Birmingham.”

  “Hm.” But he didn’t sound convinced.

  The kitchen door opened, and Tarian stepped into the hall, bringing with her the appetising aroma of dinner.

  “The dogs are fed.” Tarian glanced from Cassie to her father and back, and arched an eyebrow.

  “What breed are they?” he asked.

  “Wolfhound.”

  “Need exercising a lot, I suppose?” He picked an imaginary piece of lint off his sweat
er.

  “Quite a lot. Fortunately, it’s safe to let them off their leads where I live, so they largely exercise themselves.” Tarian came to stand beside Cassie.

  “And how long have you lived in Bourn’s Edge?”

  “Two years.”

  “And before that?”

  “Dad!” Cassie slipped her hand into Tarian’s and gave it an apologetic squeeze. “Sorry about the third degree.”

  “No need. He’s your father. Protectiveness goes with the job.” Tarian’s statement earned her a look of approval, his first, and Cassie felt some of her tension ease.

  “Dinner’s nearly ready,” called Cassie’s mother, putting her head round the kitchen door. “Cassie, love, can you come and help me serve up. Rick, show Tarian where she can wash her hands.”

  “Right. It’s, um, through here.”

  While he led Tarian to the downstairs toilet off the hall, Cassie joined her mother in the kitchen. In companionable silence, they sliced the lamb joint, which was slightly pink in the middle, the way she liked it, and drained peas, carrots, and potatoes.

  Cassie turned to her mother. “How much shall I put?”

  “You know Tarian’s appetite better than I do. Put as much as you think she can eat. And give your father plenty of potatoes. You know he likes them.”

  When the food had been doled out, Cassie helped her mother carry the heavy plates into the dining room. The scent from a vase of freesias wafted to her as she took her seat next to Tarian, and she was touched to see her mother had used her best table linen and wine glasses.

  Her father was in the middle of trying to sell Tarian a car—he was the manager of the local car showroom and liked to wax knowledgeable about the latest makes and models.

  “Dad,” hissed Cassie, while her mother asked Tarian if she’d like some mint sauce. “She doesn’t drive.”

  He regarded her as though she were insane. “Everybody drives, Cassie.”

  “She’s right, Mr. Lewis.” Tarian passed the sauce jug to Cassie, followed by the gravy boat. “I don’t drive. I ride horses though.”

  His cheeks reddened, and he busied himself pouring out the wine. Then he cleared his throat and cast around for a new topic. Cassie braced herself. “How’s the packing going?”