The Dream Weavers Barbara Erskine (e ink ebook reader txt) 📖

spy and you do not come from my father, so who has sent you?’ The power of her gaze and the force of her anger made Bea quail. ‘Come near me again and you will die!’

She didn’t realise she had cried out loud until she heard Mark running up the stairs, and then he was there, his arms around her, holding her close. ‘Bea! What is it, darling? What’s happened? I heard you shouting—’

‘I … I’m sorry. I must have been asleep. Dreaming.’

‘You’re shivering.’ Helping her to her feet, he guided her to the door and down the stairs into their bedroom. Reaching for her dressing gown he wrapped it around her shoulders, then he sat down on the end of the bed beside her and put his arm round her again. ‘I came back late and the house was in darkness, so I assumed you’d gone to bed. I was working in the study and I must have fallen asleep.’

Her teeth were chattering ‘I … went upstairs to meditate.’

‘Bea!’ He stood up. ‘You must realise how dangerous this is.’

‘And I’ve told you, I’m being careful.’ But however careful she was being, her safety ritual hadn’t worked. She shuddered. ‘I’m cold, that’s all. I didn’t realise how late it is.’

‘Then why did you scream?’

‘I didn’t scream.’ She stared at him, astonished.

‘Oh believe me, you did.’ His voice betrayed how frightened he was. ‘Come on, let’s go downstairs. It’s warm in there and we need to talk.’

According to the bedside clock it was ten past three in the morning, but she got up and led the way down the stairs. Mark, sensing her tension as she peered into the corners of the hall and through open doorways into the darkened rooms beyond, sat her down at the kitchen table and put off any further conversation for a few minutes while he made them both a mug of hot chocolate.

‘So.’ He sat down beside her at last. ‘What really happened? Why did you scream?’

‘I’m sorry for waking you.’

‘Bea!’

‘I was dreaming about the kingdom of Wessex. About a wise woman called Nesta who makes herbal potions. She said she came from the forest.’

‘That doesn’t sound so frightening.’ He was trying hard to keep his voice calm.

‘No.’

‘What happened next?’ He could read her so easily. He put his arm round her shoulders again.

She took a deep breath. ‘OK. I was back the past. It’s so vivid. So real. And she was there. Offa’s daughter.’

She felt him freeze. Literally. His arms had grown rigid and she sensed a chill run through him. She saw his lips move and she waited for an explosion of fury. Then she realised he was praying for her.

‘Whoever it was, it was a dream,’ he said at last.

‘She saw me, Mark. She looked at me, out of the past and saw me. It wasn’t a dream. I saw her make the sign of the cross. She thought I was evil.’ She could hear the disbelief in her own voice. ‘And she wasn’t scared of me, Mark. She was angry.’

‘Dear God!’

She wasn’t clear whether that was his prayer or an expression of horror.

‘I was scared. I admit it. Very scared.’ She took a deep breath. ‘My fault. I obviously didn’t do things properly, I didn’t protect myself, I didn’t shut the door behind me.’

‘It doesn’t sound as though she would have much of a problem with doors.’ His face was ashen.

‘Not that kind of door.’ She gave a wistful smile. ‘It’s never happened before. I’m experienced enough to know better.’

But it has happened before, hasn’t it. He didn’t say it out loud. ‘Have you shut the door now?’

She nodded.

‘And she won’t come back.’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sure.’

He heaved a deep sigh. ‘Bea, you can’t go on like this.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘Can you stop?’

She gave a hesitant smile, reaching for her mug. ‘Of course. I don’t know why I cried out. I didn’t mean to wake you.’ As she lifted the mug to her mouth, she smelt a sharp herbal smell on her fingers and remembered the rosemary bush. Only then did she remember to visualise the doors between that world and hers and slam them tightly shut.

‘I wanted to make sure you were OK.’ It was Heather, on the phone next morning. ‘Have you got time to come over for a chat?’

Heather led Bea into her cosy living room looking out onto a narrow garden full of spring flowers.

‘So, has anything else happened?’ Heather sat down opposite her friend and studied her face.

‘It happened again. Last night. I was in the past with Offa’s daughter and the wise woman who seems to be advising her.’

‘Was that where you wanted to be?’

‘Yes. Yes, it was!’ At first hesitant, suddenly Bea was full of enthusiasm. ‘It was amazing, Heather! I was there with them.’

‘Actually there?’

‘Yes. I could see every detail and, more to the point, they could see me!’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Swear this won’t go any further. I could put out my hand and feel the plants in the hedge around the herb garden. I touched a bush of rosemary and rubbed it with my fingers, and when it was over and I was awake again, I could smell the rosemary on my fingers.’

Heather stared at her. ‘Are you saying you were really truly there? As in, not here any more. Gone.’

‘I don’t know. Mark came up and found me and I was there in my study, so no, I hadn’t disappeared.’ She was silent for a few seconds. ‘He said I called out.’

‘So, Mark knows.’ Heather breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that! I don’t know how all this works, but it seems very dangerous to me.’

Bea shook her head. ‘It’s not dangerous. We may be able to see each other, but if they are ghosts to me, I must be a ghost to them, surely.’

‘A ghost from the future?’

‘A shadow. A ghost they can’t touch. Or hurt.’

‘You touched the rosemary, Bea.’

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