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came back? And would she be able to resist the spirit of Eadburh invading her dreams? Somehow she and Emma had dreamt the same dream, watched the same scene, but she had been a witness, Emma, a participant. She hadn’t had the chance to talk to Simon privately when she dropped Emma back at the cottage, but she had to do it. She had to tell him too what to do if there was another crisis. And in the meantime she had a crisis of her own to deal with. Sandra Bedford.

As she stopped at the gates into the cathedral grounds, waiting for the bollards to lower and allow her in so she could head for her parking space, she found she was repeatedly looking in her driving mirror to make sure there was no sign of Sandra behind her. What on earth was she going to do about the woman?

Heading towards her front door she fished her front door key out of her pocket and let herself in. ‘Mark?’ she could already tell he wasn’t at home. When he was out there was always an undefinable sense of emptiness in the place, as though a part of her own soul was missing. However much she longed to be alone, she missed him when he wasn’t there. She peered into his study and then the kitchen, to be sure, before heading up towards their bedroom. Pulling off her jacket and throwing it on the bed, she sat down next to it, strangely reluctant to go upstairs to her attic study.

Don’t go, my child. Don’t go. There is danger.

Danger up on Offa’s Ridge. Danger not only for her, but for Emma as well.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Listen to the old man. Whether the priest in the chantry was nothing but a memory in her head or yet another imprinted echo in the ether or an audible voicing of her own instincts, listen to his advice. But how could she? Now she had to worry about Emma as well as herself.

And it was with herself she should start.

Her own protection was patently less than satisfactory. Eadburh and her witch-woman Nesta could see her and were reacting to her and Eadburh was threatening her. She should not put herself in danger deliberately any more than she had already until she had found out why her tried-and-tested methods were not working. That problem needed to be sorted at once. But her curiosity about Eadburh and her world was so strong. It was more than just part of her current undertaking to sort out Simon’s cottage ghost and Emma’s wildly uncontrolled talent, it was a personal quest.

She sat still, torn in two. She was obsessed and obsession was dangerous. The next instalment waited for her upstairs, the house was empty, there was nothing to stop her giving in to temptation, going up to her study, sitting down, closing her eyes and waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing except the urgent advice of an ancient chantry priest.

Don’t go, my child. Don’t go. There is danger.

27

‘This is very cloak and dagger!’

Simon agreed to meet Bea in the Co-op car park in Kington. He had left Felix and Emma at the cottage, supposedly revising, with the excuse he was coming down to pick up a takeaway.

‘It has to be, I’m afraid. I am being followed by a woman from the cathedral who has made it her mission to uncover my satanic practices,’ she explained as he climbed into the car beside her. ‘You met her at the café there with me.’

‘Oh Bea, I’m sorry. Emma mentioned you thought she had followed you both to the church. Is this our fault? Felix was such an idiot, sounding off like that.’

She gave a grim smile. ‘Don’t worry. She’s been warned off. I’m not here to talk about her. I wanted a word without Emma overhearing us. How is she doing?’

‘OK, I think. She is a bit hyper, but she’s exhausted as well, so it’s hard to judge. She’s told us you’ve taught her how to protect herself against ghosts and being possessed, and how to see auras,’ he said, keeping his expression and tone neutral.

So much for keeping things secret. ‘Whatever you do, don’t mock her, Simon. It’s a real thing. Physicists need powerful machines to view human energy fields; some humans possess that ability naturally. End of. Trust your daughter. It’s a wonderful thing to be able to do and it should be exciting and magical, that’s the only word I have for it. But I need her to be careful. Not get carried away by the excitement because with it comes danger. She must not deliberately open herself to marauding spirits.’

Simon took a deep breath. ‘Like the voice.’

‘Like the voice.’

‘Felix knows to watch her when I’m not there. She was asleep when I left.’

‘Good. She needs rest as long as she doesn’t have too many nightmares that make her scared to close her eyes.’ She hesitated, wondering how to proceed. ‘Simon, I’m intrigued by the story that’s developing here,’ she said cautiously, ‘and I wanted to ask you about it. It’s your focus on King Offa that’s set these events in motion, that much seems to be obvious. We joked about you writing your own ghost when we first met, and we were being flippant, or we thought we were, but true words are often spoken in jest. Everything going on here involves Offa and his daughters and his sons-in-law. St Ethelbert—’

‘Who was never his son-in-law. He was murdered before he actually got near his wife-to-be, poor lad. I don’t think we’ll ever know why. Legend has the field of possibilities pretty much covered.’

‘And the King of Northumbria?’

‘The husband of Ethelfled, the eldest daughter? They were violent times and his murder was probably locally plotted. Dynastic or to do with local politics rather than Offa. Offa wanted allies.’

‘What happened to Ethelfled?’

‘As far as I remember, she is

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