The Echo of Crows, page 16
His phone had fallen out of his pocket and lay pathetically in the wet grass. He stared at it for over a minute before picking it up, wiping it on the driest parts of his jeans and eventually prodding in a number.
31
Effigy
HE BECAME AWARE of the wooden apples carved into the rood screen and the light-filled apples in the stained-glass window. Apple shapes and apple colours… and an apple smell in the ancient air. This was Jane. Eirion remembered her finding an aerosol spray of apple essence in a shop in Leominster and then discovering where it was produced and cleaning out her bank account to buy a dozen cans.
Only Jane would have gone this far. Ledwardine: the village in the orchard, and here in the church she was making sure you could taste its old pagan flavour. Her mother laughing now, though she hadn’t always. Now she’d decided Jane’s kind of paganism was not meant to be offensive but was a bit like the poet Wordsworth’s: fresh, positive and very rural British. Which saved religious discord, Eirion thought, closing his eyes, feeling happier, with apple essence freshening his senses.
When he opened his eyes, the vicar was in the aisle below the window with a duster in her left hand. Less than twenty years older than Jane and making middle-age seem like a time of life you’d be content to grow into. When she smiled, Eirion felt almost relaxed, knowing he’d called up the right person.
‘So what’s she done?’ the vicar asked.
‘I’m sorry…?’
‘What’s Jane done? I could distinctly hear her machinations behind your voice on the phone just now.’
Merrily Watkins patted dust from her jeans. Eirion knew that, since the pandemic, cleaning the church had become her sometimes job, when helpers were unavailable. He thought that was wrong, though she didn’t seem unhappy as she folded the duster and sat on the edge of the pew directly under the glass apple.
‘It’s more what she thinks I’ve done,’ Eirion said.
*
What Merrily hadn’t known until now was that Jane had taken her Gallows Lane campaign further. But what had induced her to drag Eirion to the Black Mountain villages?
‘There are some things she obviously hasn’t told me, either,’ he said.
‘She’ll be thinking you must now have mixed loyalties.’ Merrily crumpled the duster in her left hand. ‘I get the same problem with the C of E. What comes first: friends and family or the job?’
Eirion expelled relieved breath, sitting up stiffly in his pew. A thoughtful boy. It was difficult starting a new job – your first – and finding it was a job that could affect every aspect of your private life. At some point he’d start to realize which way it was best to jump. Should he put Jane’s interests before his job? That was his big issue.
‘Eirion…’ Merrily took a gamble. ‘Has Jane told you anything about a young woman called Autumn Wise?’
His eyes were blank. Whatever Jane had overheard she hadn’t shared it all.
Eirion said, cautiously, ‘Should I know that name?’
Merrily did some fast thinking. The murder – if it was murder – of a celebrated lottery-winner was a big story. A very big story for a junior reporter. She hesitated.
Eirion didn’t.
‘I won’t say a word,’ he said. ‘Or write a word.’
Then he said, ‘Jane and I…’
Merrily said nothing. She liked Eirion, was grateful that Jane still found him interesting and hoped nothing would come between them, that they’d always be, at least, best friends.
Eirion said, ‘Things have been a bit… She thinks… that maybe I’m not taking her seriously enough. That’s not true. I…’ His features shrank into embarrassment. ‘Do you know anything about… er, I don’t know what to call them… um… voodoo-style or witchcraft images, like a doll?’
‘Usually a joke, surely? Bit like a rubber crucifix.’
‘What if you found one,’ Eirion said, ‘like I found in the long grass when I was in Longtown today. With Jane. Well, I found it, and she—’
‘Erm… Longtown?’ She didn’t like where this was going. ‘What were you doing over there?’
‘We were…’ Eirion’s gaze trickled unhappily down over the prayer-book shelf. ‘We were looking for the croc— for the gallows.’
Without enthusiasm, he explained how the hanging issue had developed from an afternoon in Gallows Lane, Ledwardine, to, just days later, small headlines in several outlets.
‘So…’ Merrily’s eyes glittered but not for long; she was unsurprised. ‘Could it have been Jane who started all that about preserving Gallows Lane? She hates the thought of Ledwardine or anywhere being modernized by incomers. Of course. I should’ve twigged as soon as I read it.’
‘No, she— I’m afraid I’m responsible for giving it to the media at large,’ Eirion said.
Merrily shook her head, her mouth a fine line.
‘Eirion, I’ve given your relationship some serious study, and I think this hanging thing, if it ever was funny, is no longer a joke between the two of you.’
‘I think it began as a… kind of a semi-serious thing,’ Eirion said.
But Merrily was still shaking her head, sure of her ground.
‘Jane,’ she said, ‘uses these triggers to tease things into the public eye, to try and embarrass the council. And the Church too, when she becomes aware of certain issues I’ve been asked to look at…’
Eirion leaned forward, listening intently.
‘When the subject of hanging came up for me, she’d be thinking she might be missing something. I’m her mother and I’m doing, occupationally, what mothers are not supposed to do… what some people see as…’
‘A glamorous job,’ Eirion said.
‘Wrongly, of course.’ Throwing up her hands. ‘That’s about the last thing anybody who knows me would think.’
‘When, in fact, there’ve been whole movies about people like you, who never wielded a duster.’
‘Eirion, come on…’
‘Who carry a black bag with a crucifix and a bottle of holy water.’
‘Oh, Eirion, it’s just…’ She sank back into the window pew, a vivid pane turning her nose blue. ‘It’s just a canvas airline bag with a snapped-off shoulder strap.’
‘You’re playing it down. For Jane… Face it, Mrs Watkins, Jane’s jealous.’
‘And you’re overplaying it. Behind the exorcist screen, I’m just a committed vicar, and she knows that.’
‘And even I’m a journalist,’ Eirion said. ‘While she… What is she? Nothing essential – that’s how I think she sees it. She needs to be relevant. She’s left school, doesn’t want to stay in the education system… And the novelty of setting up a shop… that’s slowly wearing off, isn’t it?’
‘I wish…’
Eirion said, ‘All that really matters here is… that shop used to be run by Lucy Devenish. Jane wants to think Lucy is somehow influencing her from beyond the grave.’
Merrily wrinkled her nose.
‘She was certainly an impressive woman and could influence people strongly when she was alive, but I really don’t think she’s still in contact with Jane.’
‘What?’ Eirion rose up. ‘I’m sorry, but Jane talks to her… as a…’ his voice dropped to a mumble, ‘as a fellow pagan. Which I’m not sure Jane really is. But she embraces anything weird, as you must know.’
Oh God, she knew all right.
‘And this doll you said you found,’ Merrily said. ‘I’m presuming you thought finding it like that would impress her.’
Eirion looked regretful.
‘I did find it and I wish now I’d kept it, because then you’d see how it did look like the real thing. Jane barely looked at it. She just jumped to the wrong conclusion. I threw it back in the grass but I could go back and look around, see if it’s still there.’
Merrily suddenly looked very serious, as Eirion drove home the point.
‘Don’t you need to know, as the official diocesan deliverance person, whether anything that looks satanic is going on in your area?’
‘No, that’s—’
Well, yes it was something she should be aware of, if it was genuinely dark, not just a joke between Jane and her boyfriend. She— Oh God, what a potential farce this job was. Eirion’s job, too, although he wouldn’t have realized that yet.
‘All right,’ she said, as calmly as she could manage, ‘tell me about the effigy.’
‘It was the figure of a woman, I think, with string knotted around its neck and a long piece to hold it up with.’
Merrily put a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp, as Eirion continued.
‘The string was over a hood, like I think some people could be hooded on the scaffold.’
Merrily made herself ask, ‘Did you notice what colour the hood was?’
Eirion looked quizzical; odd question. ‘Grey, I think. Shall I go and bring it back?’
‘Please, Eirion, do just that. It’s important. Can’t explain why just yet but please, please get it. See, here’s a candle box to put it in.’
He looked a bit puzzled but accepted the little wooden box. ‘I’m on my way. And thanks for listening.’
32
Unfinished business
HUW WAS WAITING in his Land Rover on the vicarage drive. He’d seen Eirion leave and was about to go into the church when Merrily appeared.
‘Didn’t want to intrude. Wanted to see you alone,’ he said. ‘Should’ve phoned but I’ve been driving around and found meself near, so I called on the off chance. Need to talk.’
‘Follow me,’ Merrily said. ‘I need to talk to you, too, over a cuppa.’
In the kitchen, Huw sat and started to unburden as Merrily made tea.
‘It were quite some experience last night,’ he said, ‘and, as I see it, gives more of a reason to do something about Clodock church.’ He waved a hand to signal Don’t Interrupt.
She was still far from sure what he thought needed her attention in that little place. Why her? Hadn’t she enough to deal with in the immediate here and now? Was Huw using a growing obsession to sideline his own anxieties about so-called retirement?
‘Welsh place name, Merrily. Welsh church. And Clydawg died in Wales. But now he walks in England. When he’s in t’mood. Can you get your head round that? Them Black Mountains: it’s a thin area containing some even-thinner spots.’
She said nothing, remembering, in this hard air, the pep-talk he’d given her in the hills above the chapel near Brecon where he ran his workshops, where she’d been introduced to exorcism, the only woman on his deliverance course. Where he’d told her, memorably, that ordained women were the prime target for every psychotic grinder of the dark, satanic mills that ever sacrificed a chicken. Warning her of a modern religion masquerading as something as ancient as those ancient Brecon hills.
Ancient hills. Weren’t most hills the same age? It hadn’t made sense to her on that night either. But he was still her spiritual director, whatever that meant now, years later. Although not for long.
‘Didn’t tell you what I saw around t’church yesterday, but you might be more ready to accept it after last night’s goings-on.’
Merrily nodded the go-ahead as she poured teas and sat down to listen carefully.
Huw gave a detailed summary of his vision: Clydawg’s re-enacted funeral and the sorrowful atmosphere it projected.
‘He were a saint and he were the first victim we know about but there’ll be others, like Ann Jones, who were born in Clodock. And now there’s Eddy Davies, not far away. All in the shadow of them mountains. Shadows the clouds never chase away.’
Huw finished his tea and his monologue with conviction. ‘It needs a resolution, Merrily. It’s not an orthodox procedure I’m thinking of, but it could help.’
‘I’m still trying to take all this in. It’s fascinating that something so long ago can still have unending echoes,’ Merrily said. ‘But what are you thinking to do?’
Huw shuffled around on his chair. ‘A wedding in the medieval manner,’ he said, decisively. ‘A commemorative enactment of the nuptial promises which should have bonded Clydawg and his betrothed. It’s unfinished business and it needs to be done tomorrow, which happens to be his saint’s day, November the third. Couldn’t be a better time.’
Merrily frowned. ‘You mean the nearest thing to marrying a dead couple, which would go against Christian theology, and, instead, sort of role-playing their marriage, giving them a fairy-tale ending.’
‘Exactly, but I don’t like the tag “fairy tale”,’ Huw said. ‘You can’t change the past, but you can affect its negative repercussions. Events can have reverberations down t’centuries, but who’s to say they can’t be halted by a present-day shield. You conduct a sacred exchange of vows, which the tragic couple were denied, and trust that’ll reflect in t’future. Reflecting love. Nothing stronger than love, is there, to drive out evil?’
‘I accept that,’ Merrily said, ‘it’s just I’m having to think all round this. Er… I suppose I see the wholesome purpose of it, like putting in the missing bit of their life circle. Yeah, I get it, just about… and I think I can guess which couple you’ve got in mind for the stand-in roles.’
‘Nowt much gets past thee, lass,’ Huw said, smiling. ‘And if you have any doubt, think on this: not much is known about Cloddy’s chosen bride, but her name might have been Meleri.’
Merrily straightened.
‘Is this a wind-up? Where’s that come from? How’s it spelled?’
‘Could be M–E–L–E–R–I… or ending in a U, which is often pronounced as I in Welsh.’
Merrily looked sceptical.
‘Would I lie to thee?’ Huw said, annoyed. ‘I’ll tell you.’
He explained that Cloddy’s betrothed had quite recently been so named by a local historian and former cleric, now living at Longtown, which too often seemed to be at the epicentre of latent rumblings.
‘Interesting, eh, even for a non-Welsh speaker like your good self?’ Huw said.
‘I’m trying not to get too interested,’ Merrily said quietly.
She didn’t know how much of this Huw was inventing, but it didn’t matter; he’d dropped in the name now and she wouldn’t forget it, dammit.
Just then there was a knock on the back door and Merrily saw Eirion through the window. As she opened the door, he held out the box for her to take, declining her offer to come in.
‘I’d really like to,’ Eirion said, ‘but I’d better get back and write up the feature I went there to research. And I’ve still got stuff to sort out in the flat.’ He paused, to muster the words for a plea. ‘But could you please talk to Jane, convince her I wasn’t lying about finding it? I did just spot it in the grass, I swear to God.’
Merrily put the box on the nearby window sill and grabbed his hand, rubbing it like a child’s mother would, wanting to ease a hurt and reassure. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll sort it and get her to ring you later. Count on it.’
Merrily returned to the kitchen and placed the box on the table in front of Huw.
‘First things first,’ she said firmly. ‘We need to deal with this. Think we’ll take it into the vestry. We can lock the door and do what we have to without interruption. Plus, I don’t want Autumn to see it if, say, she came back early.’
*
Once in the church, Merrily explained about Eirion’s find and his mission to retrieve it.
She and Huw stood either side of a small table with the box between them. Merrily opened it slowly, gradually revealing the gruesome body of the noose-bound effigy.
Huw sighed loudly. ‘Somebody certainly wanted that girl to suffer. Don’t see any way it wasn’t meant for her. The grey hood is the clincher. Any idea who might have done it?’
‘Well, certainly not Eirion,’ Merrily said, wanting to take Jane to task there and then. ‘What I need to do is contact Frannie Bliss and hand it over, but I can’t do that until we’ve nullified its effect.’
‘Well, it has no effect if you don’t let it,’ Huw said. ‘Wouldn’t bother me or thee.’
‘I know that,’ Merrily said. ‘I learned from you. All the same, I’d be happier with a cleansing.’
‘Then we’ll do it,’ Huw said. ‘Where do you keep the salt and water in here?’
Merrily assembled all the essentials to carry out a ritual cleansing. Then, she and Huw joined in prayer for whatever power the doll and its creator had over Autumn to be broken and for her to be freed from all evil intent.
‘We’ll need to work with the lass herself,’ Huw said.
‘Or we just don’t tell her,’ Merrily said, placing the effigy back and closing the box. ‘And when I hand it over to Bliss, I’ll give him strict instructions to bring it back so we can burn it.’
‘Reet,’ said Huw, ‘and I reckon the place to do it is Autumn’s cottage, when we go back to check it’s cleared of any unwanted residue.’
‘Good,’ Merrily said. ‘We need for good to come out of all this. Remember, no mention of it to Autumn yet, though, if ever.’
*
Back at the vicarage, Merrily suggested Huw call Gomer. ‘You could meet up for some lunch at the pub and tell him about your plan for tomorrow. He’s got to be there. And Sophie, you could ring her. Oh, and the Archdeacon, to square things with the management. Off you go.’
Once in the office, she rang Bliss.
‘This gets weirder by the minute,’ he said. ‘Don’t think I’ve had a doll to confront a suspect with before. I’ve gorra idea who might have made it. Can I send a car to pick it up? Think I’d be wary of asking that if you hadn’t made it safe. Like I wouldn’t ask somebody to pick up a wartime grenade and stick it in the car, unless the Bomb Squad had said it was a plastic replica.’
‘You’ll be safe handling it, Frannie. Christened and a former altar boy, you’re doll-proof.’
‘Thanks, Merrily, I’ll remember that.’
33
Magnetism
‘OF COURSE IT’S an interesting area,’ Vaynor was told. ‘I’ve always found it surprisingly strange, yes, but comfortably strange.’
