Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

Sitting by the River Wye, looking up at the broken silhouette of the castle, she had somehow gone into a regression; on her own and, without wanting to, she had slipped back to the time of Matilda and for two or three hours had lain on the white shingle in a trance, oblivious of the world around her. She hugged her knees with a shiver, wishing suddenly that Nick was there. Then she put her head in her hands. Had she even forgotten that? That she could never see Nick again? She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears. Nick and she were finished and Richard was far away beyond her reach. She was alone.

Standing up shakily, she glanced at her watch. It was ten past nine. She went to the window and stared out at the low hills beyond the trees. It was somewhere up there that she and Richard had ridden with their hawks.

She found she was clenching her fists violently, suddenly overcome by fear. Was it her need to see Richard that had made her regress alone and unprompted, or was it something else? Was Matilda beginning to take her over? She took a deep breath. She had been mad to come to Wales, mad to think she could handle this alone. She did need Carl Bennet's help. He had started all this off and somehow he had to help her to get free of it again. She had to go back to him, had to persuade him to try again to make her forget, and as soon as possible.

Margiad Griffiths was in the kitchen when Jo, showered and in a fresh dark-blue cotton dress, went down. She turned from the stove and smiled. "Better, are you?" she said. "I've just made some coffee, or would you prefer tea?"

"I'd love some coffee, please. " Jo sat down at the kitchen table. "I didn't realize I was so tired. I am sorry, I've put you to a lot of trouble. "

"Not at all. " Margiad reached down two earthenware cups from the cabinet. "The Peterses have gone, though. Sorry not to see you again, they were. They sent their best wishes. "

"I wish I could have thanked them. I still don't know quite what happened to me by the river yesterday. "

"Exhaustion, I expect. " Margiad poured the coffee. "I usually put my guests at the tables in the sitting room, through there, if you'd rather... "

Jo grimaced. "No, I'd rather stay here, if I may. I expect all your other guests went out ages ago, it's so late. "

Shrugging, Margiad passed her a bowl of sugar. "I've only the three rooms. The Peterses had one, and there was a nice young teacher in the other. Walking Offa's Dyke, he was, but he stopped here for the books. Everyone comes to Hay for the books. "

Jo smiled. "I was here doing some research into the history of the town. " The coffee was strong and fragrant. She could feel the heat of it seeping into her veins.

"Oh, it's an old town. The castle's very ancient. That's Richard Booth's now, of course. Did you see it?"

Jo shrugged. "I'm more interested at the moment in the old castle. The first one. It was near the church. "

"Down here?" Margiad stared at her. "Well, now. I never knew that! Fancy there being another castle. You'll be off to see it later, I suppose?"

Jo sighed regretfully. "I can't today. I've got to go back to

London. " She stared down with some distaste as Margiad put a plate of eggs and bacon down on the table in front of her. "I didn't realize that was for me—"

"Go on, girl. Eat it up while I make you some toast. You could do with some good solid food in you. " Margiad was watching her carefully while behind her the frying pan sputtered gently on the stove. "Will you be coming back this way then, or have you finished all your research?"

Jo picked up the knife and fork. She cut into the top of the egg and watched the yolk flow across the plate.

"I don't know, " she said after a moment. "I think it's a case of whether it has finished with me. "

Her walk back toward the town took her past the site of the old castle. All that remained was the motte, grass-covered and sown with wildflowers. There was no sign of the wooden keep or the bailey that she remembered, nor of the thick hedge. She stood and stared for a moment, half afraid that something would happen, but there were no ghosts, no shadows, just a cheerful black-and-white collie that loped across the grass, cocked its leg against the wall, and disappeared into the trees near the church.

It was market day and she stared in confusion at the clustered colorful stalls that had appeared around her car overnight, wondering how on earth she was going to move it. Catching the eye of the woman selling farm produce from the stall beside the MG, she shrugged and grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would be market day. I wasn't feeling well yesterday, so I left the car here. "

The woman grinned back. "So. It's not something you'll do again, is it?" she said cheerfully, and she turned away.

Jo stuck out her tongue at the woman's back. She threw her cases into the car and climbed into the driver's seat. It would take some careful maneuvering to extricate herself from the crowded, noisy square.

Slowly she wound down the window and leaned forward to insert her key into the ignition. In front of her the castle walls rose high and gray against the brilliant blue of the sky.

When had it been built? she wondered idly as she turned on the engine. Would she ever know now? Her eyes traversed the high walls with the empty gaping spaces where the stone arches of the windows had fallen. In one of