Mistress of Greyladies (22 page)

Frank didn’t lunge forward, as Phoebe had expected, but stood eyeing her as if she had no clothes on. She shivered involuntarily, but as she watched him, she quickly realised how much he was enjoying tormenting her. He was also panting slightly, as if finding it hard to breathe.

‘No one will hear you when you scream,’ he told her. ‘No one but me. I’ll enjoy making you scream. You deserve it, you bitch, leading me on all these years.’

‘I’ve never led you on, Frank.’

‘Oh, but you have. We both knew you’d be mine in the end, only you had to play hard to get.’

She couldn’t believe he thought that. She despised women who played with men and would never do it. But most of all, she despised Frank, who was a bully and a brute.

She could have leapt over the nearest packing case, but where would she go? He had the key in his pocket, so she still couldn’t get out of here.

A light appeared right next to her, shining softly on her face.

‘How the hell did you do that?’ Frank demanded.

‘Do what?’

‘Make that light. Is it a reflection? There’s no one else in here. I saw you myself unlocking the gate to get in. I’ve brought someone with me to keep watch, but
he
didn’t come inside and he won’t interfere. So where did that light come from?’

The light moved sideways in the direction she had been intending to jump, if only to postpone Frank’s attack for a minute or two.
Was it urging her to move that way?
she wondered.

He continued to stare at it. ‘You must see that light. It’s getting brighter all the time.’

She pretended ignorance. ‘See what light?’

‘If this is a trick, I’ll make you pay dearly for it.’

‘I’m doing nothing to cause a light.’

It grew bright enough to dazzle and he held one arm over his eyes.

The light moved to a piece of carved stone, bounced twice on a carved rose, and moved back towards Phoebe.

She saw Anne Latimer’s grey robes begin to show, faint and transparent at first, growing more opaque, looking as if she was real.

‘Stop it!’ Frank yelled suddenly. ‘I know this picture of a woman is a trick. A projection, like in the cinema. It won’t do you any good. Stop it
now
.’

He was staring at the light, so Phoebe scrambled over the packing case and reached for the rose.

He roared with fury.

But before he could follow her, the light became so bright it hurt his eyes, coruscating around them, beating at Frank in particular.

Phoebe heard a faint grating sound nearby, saw a dark hole open up behind the stone and ran towards it, bending to get inside. Immediately the carved stone began to close again.

The last thing she heard was Frank yelling, ‘Get away from me! Get away!’

Once the panel shut, she was alone in the darkness.

How long would she have to stay here? Would anyone hear her if she couldn’t get out again and shouted for help?

Corin arrived at Greyladies to find people gathered in small groups, talking anxiously about something.

Captain Turner came out to the car. ‘Sorry to greet you with this. Do come inside.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘One of the VADs seems to have vanished and Matron’s just organising a search of the grounds. Phoebe’s nowhere in the house, that’s for sure.’

‘Is it Phoebe who’s missing?’ Corin asked sharply.

‘Yes. I forgot you two were … close.’

Matron came across the hall to join them. ‘Hello, Major. Sorry to greet you like this. We’re looking for Phoebe. I saw her heading towards the crypt earlier, so we’re about to see if she’s still there.’

‘I know where it is. I’ll go. Oh, this is Herr Schreiber. I believe you’re expecting him. Perhaps someone can attend to him?’

Herr Stein came forward. ‘I will show him the room that has been prepared and keep him company till you’ve found our dear Phoebe.’

‘Thank you.’ Corin left the house again, followed by Captain Turner and Matron.

‘I hope she hasn’t fallen and hurt herself,’ Matron worried as they strode along the garden path towards the little gate at the side, which led to the ruins of the old abbey.

Corin stopped. ‘Shh. Just a minute. There’s someone standing near the crypt. When I give you the signal, call out to him.’ He moved to one side, out of the man’s line of sight, and crept closer and closer, glad of the soft green grass to muffle his footsteps. When he was within reach, he waved one hand.

‘Hoy, you!’ called the captain, obedient to his wishes.

The man swung round, panic and guilt equally present on his face. Then he turned to flee and ran straight into Corin, who grabbed him.

The man struggled but was smaller than Corin and much less fit. By the time the others joined them, he had stopped struggling.

‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ Corin demanded. ‘Answer me.’

‘I come here with Frank. I ain’t done nothing wrong.’

‘Frank Hapton?’

The man nodded.

‘What’s he doing here?’

‘Looking for that woman of his. They went into that old cellar.’

‘You take care of this one, Turner. I’ll go after Phoebe.’

Before Corin could move away, their captive said, ‘It ain’t no use. Frank’s inside and he’s got the key. Locked the door after himself, he did, so she couldn’t get out.’

Corin’s blood ran cold at the thought of Phoebe trapped in the crypt by that brutal chap. He ran across to the crypt entrance.

But the grille was indeed locked and though he could hear someone speaking, the sound was muffled. Just then a light began to shine inside the crypt, visible from the entrance, growing brighter by the minute.

‘Phoebe!’ Corin yelled. ‘Phoebe, are you in there?’

No one answered, but they heard a man yell, then scream as if terrified. It was unnerving to hear a man make a sound like that. What the hell was happening in there?

Corin shook the grille hard, but it was firmly fixed. No one could have opened it by force, not without tools, and even then, it’d take time to cut through the thick iron bars. ‘How the hell can we get inside? Is there another key?’

‘I don’t know anything about keys to this place,’ Matron said. ‘It wasn’t our responsibility. The keys were all kept in the old house.’

Their captive wriggled. ‘Um … Major.’

‘Shut up, you.’

‘But I can help you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m not involved.
I
haven’t broken in anywhere but—’

‘Get to the point.’

‘I could pick that lock easy. They’re simple, those old-fashioned locks. Then I could slip away and I’d never come back here again, I promise you.’

‘You can pick the lock and it’ll be taken into account when we find Phoebe,’ Corin said crisply. ‘That’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’

For a minute their eyes locked, then the smaller man sighed. ‘All right, sir.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out some small pieces of metal.

‘Pick locks,’ Captain Turner said. ‘Fellow’s a thief.’

‘Never mind that. We have to get to Phoebe.’ Corin gave Sid a shove. ‘Do it.’

The lock came open in a minute.

‘There you are. You can’t say I haven’t been helpful.’

‘Keep an eye on him.’ Corin was already on his way inside.

The bright light had faded, but he had a flashlight with him that he’d snatched from the car. He shone it ahead, seeing no one at first. But when he rounded a corner, he saw a man lying on the ground – Frank.

He knelt down beside him, but was shocked when he realised that the fellow was dead. There was no mark on him, but there was a look of pain on his face and one hand was lying on his chest, as if it had been pressed against it.

‘Matron!’ Corin yelled.

She joined them and didn’t need telling to examine the body. ‘Looks like a heart attack, Major.’

‘He was rejected for the army because he had a weak heart.’ He looked round, surprised Phoebe hadn’t come out from wherever she was hiding. ‘Phoebe! Where are you? It’s safe to come out now.’

But only silence met these words and when they searched the crypt, they could find no sign of her.

In the darkness, Phoebe wasn’t sure where she was, but it must be a passage of some sort because she could touch rough stone walls on either side, quite close to her, but could find nothing ahead of her. She waited, hoping for some guidance from Anne Latimer, but nothing happened.

Feeling in front of her with one foot, she made sure
there was somewhere to tread before she moved forward. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be paved with flagstones. She continued to check ahead before each step, taking nothing for granted, and it saved her a fall when her extended foot found only empty space where she would have stepped next.

She spread one hand on the wall to steady herself and continued to move her foot around, deciding it could be a flight of stairs. It seemed safer to sit down and when she did, she could feel another step below the top one, and another below that.

It might have been cowardly, but she shuffled down those steps on her bottom, counting them. Five, there were, then level ground again.

She shuffled along, feeling as if she’d been going for ages. But at least there were no footsteps or shouts behind her, and if there was a passage, built with such care, it must lead somewhere, surely?

She was desperate to get out.

She didn’t let herself panic, though the darkness seemed to be pressing in on her more heavily by the minute.

What was happening back in the crypt? She wished she knew. But she wasn’t going back to face Frank.

Where did this lead? She couldn’t tell the direction she was walking in, even.

And then the passage ended in another wall, this time made of wood. She felt across it with her hands, looking for a latch. Surely it must be a door? The passage must lead somewhere.

But she could find nothing, no way of getting out, and there was no sign of Anne Latimer, coming to guide her.

Should she go back or should she stay here? It was the thought of fumbling her way through the darkness and finding Frank waiting for her that decided her to stay.

She leant against the wall, fighting tears.

Matron went out and found someone to fetch the doctor and bring a stretcher.

‘I think the doctor should see the body before we move it,’ she said when she got back.

‘You deal with that, please. Perhaps the rest of us should spread out and search every inch of this place again,’ Corin suggested.

They did that, but still there was no sign of Phoebe.

‘You’re sure she went inside?’ he asked Sid.

‘Certain, sir. I saw her, then Frank followed her and locked the door.’

‘There has to be some other way out, then. But if so, it’s well hidden.’

They searched every inch of the walls for something to press, or twist, something that might open a panel, but found nothing.

Then they heard a voice outside calling for Major McMinty.

He ran to the door, hoping someone had found Phoebe, but it was Joseph and Harriet.

‘They told us what had happened,’ Joseph said. ‘Have you found her?’

‘No. There’s no sign, and she definitely went inside the crypt, and didn’t come out again. Frank had locked the outer door and this fellow had to pick the lock to let us inside.’

‘I haven’t found any sign of a passage from here to the
house, though there is rumoured to be one,’ Harriet said. ‘The early owners built all sorts of secret rooms and passages, to hide in during troubled times.’

‘If there is a passage,’ Joseph said thoughtfully, ‘it’ll probably come out in the cellars of the old house, don’t you think, McMinty?’

‘Could be. Let’s go and look. I’ll leave a couple of men here, in case she turns up. As for you—’ He turned to Sid, but in the confusion the fellow had managed to slip away. ‘Aw, let him go. He did help us, after all, and we can only charge him with trespassing, which is not worth the bother.’

Harriet and Joseph led the way into the old house, leaving the boys with Cook. The two youngsters didn’t need persuading, because they were hungry and she was already pulling out some cake for them.

‘This way.’ Joseph drew back at the top of the cellar stairs. ‘Let me light the lamp. There. You go first, Harriet. I can’t get down such steep stairs as quickly as the rest of you. I think there are some wall lamps down there. You’d better light them too.’ He passed her a box of vestas.

Harriet led Corin down the stairs and Matron followed. Joseph started to move slowly down behind them.

‘I’ll stay here, in case you need a liaison,’ the captain said. ‘I’m not good with steep stairs, either, with this damned tin leg, and I shan’t know where I’m going once I’m down there. You will.’

The cellars were quite extensive, with stone pillars holding up the roof.

‘Where do we start?’ Corin wondered aloud.

Harriet considered, then pointed. ‘The crypt lies in that direction. Maybe the cellar walls on that side have some sort
of entrance to a passage. Or could it come up through the floor?’ She looked down doubtfully, because the whole cellar was paved with large stone slabs.

‘I’ll dig it all up if I have to,’ he said in a harsh voice.

She smiled. ‘You love her.’

‘Of course I do. Only I haven’t said anything definite, haven’t made plans to marry or even get engaged. How could I have been such a fool?’ He began walking along the wall, tapping it, looking for some sign of an entrance.

‘You have a lot of responsibility for other things.’

‘Nothing that matters more than Phoebe. Nothing. It isn’t even the war. I’ve been letting my family house stand between us, even though it’s not much of an ancestral home. My grandparents bought it.’

‘But you love it.’

He stopped, smiling ruefully. ‘I do.’

‘I haven’t had to give my whole life to Greyladies and maybe Phoebe won’t need to, either. Have you thought of that?’

‘I don’t care. I’m going to marry her as fast as we can get a special licence.’

‘I’m sure you’ll ask her opinion first.’

He smiled confidently. ‘She’ll say yes.’ He began tapping the wall again. ‘Does this sound hollow to you?’