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

thought for a moment. ‘Well, yes, perhaps there is. Could you go and see her for me?’

When the call was over, Heather sat for a long time looking out of the window at her garden. It was a place of peace and love, somewhere she felt very close to her late husband. And safe. ‘Help me with this, my darling, please,’ she murmured, then with a heavy sigh she rose to her feet and reached for her jacket. Whatever her misgivings, this was something that had to be done face to face and at once.

Sandra was obviously not expecting a visitor. She stared at Heather in astonishment when she saw her on the doorstep, her hostility obvious. To Heather’s amazement, she saw Sandra had dyed her hair. She was wearing scarlet lipstick.

‘I have to talk to you.’ Heather marched past her into the hall before Sandra could object. ‘I need to know what’s going on with Bea.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sandra’s expression morphed from surprised to crafty then to casually bland. She looked away, refusing to meet Heather’s gaze.

‘I think you know.’ Heather headed into the woman’s sitting room and stopped in the doorway, appalled. The room was a mess. A half-drunk cup of tea stood on the table, milky scum floating on the surface of the liquid, books and papers were scattered on the chairs and on the floor, a pencil, broken in two, lay on the table beside Sandra’s phone. There was a large box lying on the floor, its lid beside it on the carpet. Inside Heather glimpsed more books and papers, a strange wand-like stick, two packs of cards with exotic medieval pictures on the boxes, a small crystal ball and a plastic bag with what looked like a large dead mouse in it. She stared at it, her mouth open.

Sandra’s eyes narrowed. She perched on the edge of one of the chairs, leaned over to replace the lid on the box and then to Heather’s horror she burst into laughter. ‘So, you underestimated me as well! All you saw was goody two shoes Sandra, who wouldn’t say boo to a goose. I tried to warn people, Heather, I begged for help, asked what I should do, and nobody listened! Nobody cared! And I kept thinking about that child, that girl, Emma.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And then I realised that it was the girl herself who was evil. But she was untrained. She needed a teacher and then I saw what was going on. She had a teacher and that teacher was here, amongst us, in the heart of the Church.’

‘Whoa!’ Heather sat down opposite her, balancing uncomfortably on the very edge of the chair. ‘Slow down, Sandra, please.’ She was eyeing the box uneasily.

‘Isn’t that what you wanted? To know what was happening? I spoke to you, Heather. I warned you, but you were just like the others, you took no notice, so now it’s up to me. I am the only one who can deal with this.’

‘Deal with what?’ Heather was fighting the urge to stand up and run out of the house.

Sandra was still avoiding her gaze. She looked down at the box on the floor and her gaze was almost caressing. ‘I had given all that up. I had even come to think that what I was doing was wrong. That was why I came to join the volunteers. I thought I would be safe in the cathedral, but I see now that I was being told to bide my time, that something would happen that only I could deal with and that when the time came, the rot I had to root out was here at the heart of the cathedral itself.’

Heather froze. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Bea Dalloway, of course.’

‘And what exactly’, Heather interrupted, ‘do you think Bea has done?’

‘You know perfectly well. I told you. I told the dean. It was you who talked me out of going to the bishop. She and the child are possessed by demons.’

‘Sandra!’ Heather was trying desperately to keep calm. ‘You know that’s rubbish. Whatever you think you’ve seen, you are wrong. Bea is a decent God-fearing woman. She is married to the Canon Treasurer, for goodness’ sake!’

Sandra nodded. ‘That’s what is so horrifying.’ She climbed wearily to her feet and walked over to the table. She picked up a magazine that was lying there, folded open at the small ads page at the back. One of the advertisements had been ringed in red ink. She pushed it towards Heather, who took it and studied it with increasing disbelief.

Madame Soozie. Your fortune told. Your cards read. If you need to settle scores from the distant past and prevent evil following you into the future I can solve your problems today.

At the bottom of the advert there was a mobile number.

Heather looked up. ‘Madame Soozie?’ she whispered.

Sandra nodded. ‘That’s me. Sandra Susan. I needed a professional name.’

Heather stared at her, speechless.

‘That’s an old magazine. I haven’t done it for years. Something happened and I thought it was my fault and I backed off, but I see now that it was merely the playing out of destiny.’ Sandra sat down again, leaned back in her chair and sighed. ‘I needed the rest anyway. One’s powers sometimes get depleted after too much psychic work. But now I’m ready to take on the greatest challenge of my life. Beatrice Dalloway and the girl Emma are, as I keep telling everyone, possessed by fearsome demons. I have sensed them and seen them and I have felt their power. It’s up to me now. I have to deal with the situation. And I can.’ She looked up and met Heather’s gaze at last. ‘You do see that, don’t you.’

‘No, I don’t see it. I don’t see it at all.’ Heather swallowed hard. ‘All I know is that Mark and Bea are concerned for your welfare. You are letting this,’ she paused, looking back at the box on the