Lady of Hay: An enduring classic – gripping, atmospheric and utterly compelling. Barbara Erskine

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СКАЧАТЬ you doing in Suffolk anyway?’ He was watching Nick carefully.

      ‘Just visiting Jo’s grandmother.’

      ‘I see.’ Sam stood up abruptly. ‘So, you’re still in with the family, are you? Nice, rich, respectable Nick! Does grandma know you’re living with someone else?’

      ‘I expect so.’ Nick stared at him, astonished at his sudden vehemence. ‘Jo tells her most things. Sam, about Jo’s illness –’

      ‘I’ll go over and see her.’

      ‘You can’t. She’s taken the phone off the hook and she’s not answering the door.’

      ‘You tried?’

      ‘Earlier this evening.’

      ‘She wasn’t ill –’

      Nick laughed wryly. ‘Not too ill to tell me to bugger off over the intercom.’

      Sam smiled. ‘In that case I should stop worrying. The whole thing will have blown over in another few days. She’ll write her article and forget all about it. And I’ll have a word with Bennet to make sure he won’t see her again, just in case she does take it into her head to try. But I’m not taking any of this regression bit too seriously and neither should you. As to the fainting fit, it probably was heat exhaustion. A day’s rest and she will be right as rain.’

      Nick did not look particularly convinced as he turned his back on the sunset and held out his glass for a refill. ‘That is what she said when I dropped her off on Sunday night.’

      ‘Then she’s a sensible girl. Hold on, I’ll get some more ice.’ Sam disappeared towards the kitchen.

      With a sigh Nick walked over to the coffee table and picked up the top book on the pile which was there. It was a biography of King John, borrowed from the London Library. Surprised, he flipped it open at the place at the back, marked by an envelope. There, in the voluminous index, underlined in red pencil, was the name Briouse, Matilda of.

      Putting the book down, he glanced curiously at the others. A two-volume history of Wales, the Everyman edition of Gerald of Wales’s Itinerary and Poole’s volume of The Oxford History of England.

      ‘Phew!’ Nick let out a quiet whistle. Gently he put the books back in place and moved away from the table. ‘So, you’re not taking it seriously, brother mine,’ he whispered thoughtfully. ‘Like hell you’re not!’

      It was Tuesday morning before Carl Bennet could see Jo. Sarah Simmons was waiting, as before, at the head of the stairs, her restrained manner barely hiding her excitement as she led Jo through into Bennet’s consulting room. He was waiting for her by the open window, his glasses in his hand.

      ‘Joanna! I am so glad you came back.’ He eyed her as she walked towards him, noting the paleness of her face beneath her tan. Her smile, however, was cheerful as she shook hands with him.

      ‘I explained what happened on the phone,’ she said. ‘I had to come and find out why. If it had anything to do with the past, that is.’

      He nodded. ‘Your throat was bruised, you said.’ Putting on his glasses he tipped her chin gently sideways and peered at her neck. ‘No one else saw this phenomenon?’

      ‘No. It was gone by yesterday morning.’

      ‘And there has been no recurrence of pain or any of the other symptoms?’

      ‘None.’ She threw her canvas bag down on the chesterfield. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined the whole thing.’

      He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘We can’t be sure that it had anything at all to do with your regression, Joanna. It is, to be honest, so unlikely as to be almost impossible. It presupposes a degree of self-hypnosis on your part that I find hard to credit and even if that were possible, we had no intimations that anyone tried to strangle you in your previous existence. However –’ he drew his breath in with a hiss ‘– what I suggest is that we try another regression, but very differently this time. I propose to regress you to an earlier period. Your Matilda was scarcely more than a child when we met her last. Let us try and find her again when she is even younger, and when, hopefully,’ he grinned disarmingly, ‘the personality is less strong and more malleable. I intend to keep a tight control of the session this time, and before we start, whilst we drink our first cup of coffee – please, Sarah –’ he laughed in suppressed excitement, ‘I suggest that you and I draw up a list of questions which I can ask her. Knowing who she is and the period to which she belongs makes everything so much easier.’

      He picked up a volume from his desk and held it out. ‘See.’ He was as pleased as a child. ‘I have brought a history book. Last night I read up the chapter on the reign of King Henry II and there are pictures, so I even know roughly about her clothes.’

      Jo laughed. ‘You’ve done more research than me, then. Once I knew she was real, and what happened to her –’ She shivered. ‘I suppose I was more interested with the technicalities of regression originally and I never considered that it would really happen to me. Or how I would feel if it did. But now that it has, it’s so strange. It’s an invasion of my privacy, and I’m conscious all the time that there is someone else there in my head. Or was. I’m not sure I like the feeling.’

      ‘I can’t say I’m surprised. People react in different ways. Interest, fear, resentment, complete disbelief, mild amusement. By far the most common reaction is to refuse to have anything more to do with regression.’

      ‘For fear of becoming involved,’ Jo nodded almost absently. ‘But I am involved. Not only professionally, but, somehow, inside myself. Because I’ve shared such intimate emotions with her. Fear … pain … horror … love.’ She shook her head deprecatingly. ‘Am I being very gullible?’

      ‘No,’ Bennet smiled. ‘You are sensitive. You empathise with the personality.’

      ‘To the extent where I develop the symptoms I’m describing.’ Jo bit her lip. ‘But then while it’s happening I am Matilda, aren’t I?’ She paused again. ‘I don’t understand about my throat, but after Friday’s regression …’ She stopped in mid-sentence. If she told Bennet about Sam’s warning, he might refuse to risk hypnotising her again, and she did want very much to go back to Matilda’s life. She wanted to know what happened.

      ‘You’ve had other symptoms?’ Bennet persisted quietly.

      She looked away. ‘My fingers were very bruised. I hurt them on the stones of the castle wall, watching William kill those men …’ Her voice died away. ‘But they only felt bruised. There was nothing to see.’

      He nodded. ‘Anything else?’ She could feel his eyes on her face as she took her coffee from Sarah and sipped it. Did the ability to hypnotise her mean he could read her thoughts as well? She bit her lip, deliberately trying to focus her attention elsewhere. ‘Only stray shivers and echoes. Nothing to worry about.’ She grinned at him sheepishly. ‘Nothing to put me off, I assure you. I would like to go back. Amongst other things I want to find out how she met Richard de Clare. Is it possible to be that specific in your questions?’ Had he guessed, she wondered, just how much, secretly, she longed to see Richard again?

      Bennet shrugged. ‘We’ll see. Why don’t we start and find out?’

      He watched as she СКАЧАТЬ