The Dream Weavers by Barbara Erskine (books you have to read txt) 📕

Her mouth fell open. ‘So, you never intended to have me. You toyed with me!’ She was furious.

He gave her a pitying smile. ‘Had you chosen rightly I might have succumbed to your wiles. We will never know.’ He turned away and swept out of the room, leaving her standing, stunned, as the men of his elite bodyguard surrounded her. They did not touch her, waiting patiently for her to move, but already her ladies were approaching, one with her cloak, one with her chest of jewels. A third carried the puppy. So, she would be allowed to take Ava with her to her fate. Holding her head high she stood while they wrapped the cloak around her and she stepped proudly from the dais onto the tiled floor, aware of everyone in the presence chamber holding their breath.

As she walked towards the door she looked back over her shoulder. ‘And still you watch me,’ she hissed at Bea. ‘So, now you know my story and my fate. But be assured, your own destiny will be tied up with mine, as certainly as the sun and moon are linked in the heavens. And that will not go well for you.’

36

Sandra’s drive up to the cottage on the ridge had done no more than confirm that it was the right place. She had glimpsed Simon Armstrong walking away from the gate as she went past and that was it. She drove on up the lane, turned round laboriously in the first gateway she came to and then drove slowly back. He had obviously gone back indoors; the front door was closed.

Letting herself back into her flat she sat down thoughtfully in front of the blank screen of the TV. She was increasingly sorry she had given up her job with the volunteers but on another level she was pleased to have the time to think. The cathedral was a distraction. It had an enormously powerful force field that clouded her thoughts.

‘Witch!’ she exploded. ‘She’s a witch!’

Yesterday she had covertly watched Bea walking across the Close and she had seen the swirling energies around the woman. They had masked her, enfolded her and protected her from prying eyes, Sandra’s eyes. A deliberate shield.

Sandra clenched her fists in her lap. Mark Dalloway was obviously too generous a man to have recognised what his wife was and Heather too had been fooled. Sitting back, Sandra closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax. If she was going to fight this woman she would need every ounce of cunning she possessed. She would have to become once again the woman she used to be.

Standing up she went over to the desk and pulled out the bottom drawer. Inside, under her file of cuttings, there was a large cardboard box. She lifted it out and set it down on the carpet. She sat and looked at it for a long time, then at last she leaned forward and lifted the lid.

Where were you?’ Simon looked up as the door opened.

‘I waited over there in the field until Mum had gone,’ his daughter answered sheepishly. She scanned the room quickly. ‘So, Felix has gone with her then?’

Simon nodded.

‘Can I have some breakfast?’

He pushed the cereal box towards her and poured her a mug of coffee. ‘So, are you going to explain?’

Emma gave an apologetic little smile. ‘Why? You know why I couldn’t go. I hoped Felix would stay, but it was up to him. He’ll understand why I couldn’t go too. It’s important he gets his GCSEs.’

‘And your exams don’t matter?’

‘They do if I want to go to uni. Which I will, I promise. But there is something else I have to sort out first. You must understand too, Dad. I know Mum won’t. Not in a million years, so it was easier not to be here.’

‘And leave me to deal with the flack.’

She gave him her most persuasive smile. ‘You know how good you are at dealing with Mum. Text her and say I’m OK, then she needn’t worry about me. Though,’ she reached for the milk jug, ‘I bet she hasn’t given me a thought. She’s got her beloved Felix back. That’s all that matters.’

‘Oh grow up, Em!’ Simon sighed. ‘You know that’s rubbish. She loves you both.’

‘And next you’re going to say it’s a mother and daughter thing. Well, it isn’t. Bea has daughters and she knows how to talk to them.’

‘How do you know? Have you ever met them?’

‘No. But she must do. She knows how to talk to me.’

He sighed. ‘I’ll text your mum, and you text Bea. Let’s see what she has to say about you skiving off.’

‘I’m not skiving. I’ll go back when I’m ready. On the train. If I’m late back to school, then you can tell them I was ill.’ She gave him an angelic smile. ‘That bit is true. I am definitely psychologically disturbed, aren’t I. But I will go back for the exams, I promise.’

There was no point in arguing. He texted Val and then, picking up his mug of coffee, he went into the front room and sat down at his desk, leaving Emma to get in touch with Bea.

‘Bea’s coming to collect me in about an hour.’ The whisper round the door was quiet, almost apologetic. He didn’t look up. He was studying the blow-ups of the last page of the chronicle. There were a few words there he hadn’t noticed before.

‘So, when Felix said you weren’t in your room when he went to look for you, where did you think you were?’

Bea and Emma were sitting on the hillside in the sun.

Emma thought for a moment. ‘Up on the hills somewhere, but not here. The view was different.’

Bea had seen it too. She had watched with Nesta.

‘And you say you were, or you felt you were, Eadburh?’

Emma nodded. ‘I was wearing the long red dress. It was lovely. Softest silk,