Lay Me to Rest. E. Clark A.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ they’d had an appointment with the bank manager. Something to do with their mortgage, I think …’

      I had a vague recollection of hearing about an incident some twenty years ago, when several people had been seriously injured in a bungled bank heist. The manager himself and two customers had perished when the gunman ran amok.

      ‘Oh God, Peter. I’m so sorry.’ I felt guilty for making him relive his loss and reached out to clasp his hand. His palm was clammy and he was shaking.

      He resumed the story. ‘We thought it was pretty sick, but didn’t take too much notice. Perhaps he’d read it wrong. Anyway, then it said that Glyn would never get married. And when we asked why not, there was just one word: “M-A-R-W.” It means “dead” or “death”. Of course, you know the outcome of that prediction.’

      Peter shook his head and gazed into space. ‘When we asked who was giving us the messages, the glass started going crazy, darting around all over the place. But then we heard a voice – a creepy, disjointed, childlike voice. It just said “Mae hi’n gwybod”. And then the glass shattered.’

      ‘What’s that? Somebody’s name?’

      ‘Oh no. It means: “She knows”.’

Chapter Three

      I felt a little stunned by Peter’s revelation, but at the same time relieved that I had not completely lost my faculties. What puzzled me was why, if there had been no recent recurrence of any preternatural activity at the farm, it had suddenly reared its head once more.

      Peter seemed to have an explanation.

      ‘To tell you the truth, I’ve had a bit of a morbid fascination with the paranormal ever since,’ he told me. ‘Apparently, the arrival of someone new at a haunted location can sometimes stir things up again. I didn’t mention anything before, as I didn’t want to put you off coming. And as nothing’s happened for donkey’s years, I saw no need to bring up the subject. Which was why I was a bit cross with old Will.’

      ‘So – d’you think that what I saw – and what spoke to you – was the ghost of the girl that Mr Parry was telling me about last night?’

      ‘It seems pretty likely, yes.’

      ‘But didn’t you say you’d never actually seen anything yourself?’ I looked into Peter’s face and his cheeks flushed as he stared down at his shoes.

      ‘Seen – no.’ He looked a little sheepish. ‘Heard – well, it was as I’ve just explained … There were a few odd happenings after that: things being moved from their proper place, pictures falling off the wall; but nothing particularly sinister. And after Glyn died it all just fizzled out.’

      ‘What happened to Glyn?’

      ‘He died of a sudden heart attack. I was staying here at the time, as it happens. Right out of the blue – we’d just come back from taking some sheep to market and he’d seemed absolutely fine, laughing and joking as usual. It was a terrible shock for everyone, especially since he always appeared so fit and healthy. Just makes you realize – you have to live for the here and now.’

      Peter glanced at his watch, his eyes widening. ‘Shit, I really don’t want to seem rude, but I must hit the road. I’ve got a meeting to attend this afternoon.’

      ‘Yes, of course – don’t let me keep you. Well, have a safe journey and I’m sure I’ll see you when I get back.’

      ‘You aren’t worried – about going back to the cottage, I mean? It must have been pretty unnerving for you.’

      I thought for a moment. In the cold light of day I felt more rational about the whole experience – and after all, it wasn’t as if I had come to any harm.

      ‘No. I think it was just the shock of being woken like that and not really knowing what it was. I’ve only got another couple of nights till Sarah arrives, so I’m sure I’ll be all right. Although I’ll be keeping the light on at bedtime … and I might just borrow that cat for company,’ I added, with a grin.

      Peter smiled. He slammed the boot of the car shut. ‘Well, that’s me, then! See you soon, I hope; and enjoy the rest of your stay.’

      Mrs Parry came hurrying breathlessly over to the car, cradling a small cardboard carton. ‘Oh, I thought I’d missed you. I’ve just brought you a few eggs – fresh this morning! You can have them for your tea later. See you in August, shall we?’

      Peter nodded and hugged the old woman. ‘Thanks for everything, Gwen.’

      ‘Safe journey, cariad.’

      We stood and watched as the car rumbled down the rough driveway and eventually disappeared as it passed over the cattle grid.

      Mrs Parry turned to me. ‘Let’s get you some breakfast, young lady. Did you sleep well?’

      ‘Mmm … could have been better. Probably being in a strange bed, I expect. I’m sure I’ll have settled in properly by tonight.’

      I decided to say nothing for the time being about my disrupted night. We walked over to the farmhouse, passing a group of chickens oblivious to our presence, as they pecked with great concentration at the grain scattered for them in the courtyard.

      ‘Free range – make the best layers, you know. I don’t hold with that battery farming nonsense,’ declared the old woman. ‘How does crispy bacon and scrambled eggs sound?’

      It sounded surprisingly tempting and I followed Mrs Parry through the door, outside which an old-fashioned bicycle – the sort with a basket attached to its curved handlebars – was propped against the wall. We walked into the kitchen. Mr Parry was in his usual chair by the range and in mid-conversation with a thin, sharp-featured woman of around fifty, who was sitting at the table drinking tea. She eyed me with what I felt was disdain, casting a look at my rounded abdomen, and with a barely discernible nod of her head, muttered a perfunctory, ‘A’right?’

      ‘Bore da, Mrs Philips!’ Mr Parry beamed through his customary halo of pipe smoke. ‘This is Mrs Williams, one of our neighbours. Marian, this is Mrs Philips. She’s the friend of Peter’s I was telling you about, staying in Tyddyn Bach for a few weeks.’

      Pulling up a chair, I sat down opposite the woman, who was decidedly aloof. I extended a hand, which she shook with little enthusiasm.

      ‘Call me Annie,’ I said, in an attempt to break the ice. But this seemed to provoke an odd reaction. Mrs Williams stared at me as though I had slapped her. She made no comment but her cheeks flushed and her dark eyes narrowed into a hard stare. I felt her scrutinizing me from head to foot and it was not a comfortable sensation.

      ‘So you’re a friend of that Peter’s, are you?’ The voice was harsh and high-pitched.

      I nodded. ‘Well, strictly speaking he’s my sister’s work colleague. I don’t know him that well, to be honest.’

      ‘Huh, you’d be as well to keep it that way, if you want my opinion.’

      ‘Now then, Marian.’ Mrs Parry placed a cup of tea in front of me and СКАЧАТЬ