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

Cwen whispered. Her already pale face was white. ‘I can hear it nearby.’ They scrambled up the path and over some rocks to gaze down at a cascading waterfall, the water a white streak against the black rocks of the valley that opened up below them.

Somehow they scrambled across and threaded their way once more into the undergrowth.

Still the barking grew closer. Eadburh glanced behind her, waiting to hear the shouts of the men, but the forest fell quiet again, as though the hounds had paused to pick up the scent anew. Hardly daring to breathe, she and Cwen huddled together in the shelter of a covert of thorn, waiting. They could hear the crashing of broken branches and the rustle of leaves as the pursuit drew nearer, and then it was upon them, a tawny animal, bursting into the glade with a yelp of joy. It was Ava, her fur smeared with blood, her ears torn, and tangled with brambles. She flew to her mistress and threw herself at her feet, too exhausted even to wag her tail. Eadburh sank to her knees in tears and put her arms round the dog’s neck. It was a moment before she looked up anxiously. ‘Has she been followed? Has she led them to us?’

They listened, but the forest was quiet. Eadburh kissed the animal’s silky head. ‘She was calling to us to stop and wait for her.’

They found a hollow in the rocks out of the wind, huddling together to rest with the dog between them for warmth as at last night fell. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go in the long cold hours of darkness until daylight began to show once again in the east.

Somewhere deep in her dream, Bea had heard the bedroom door close. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked round. It was daylight and she was in her daughter’s bedroom. The dog in her arms was an old stuffed toy that Anna had left on her bed when she went off to college and which Bea was too soft-hearted to put away. She sat up, looking at the worn, much-loved creature in her arms and felt tears trickling down her cheeks. Tears for Elisedd, brutally killed on the orders of Charlemagne, and the woman he loved thrown out into the snow to die, finding true love from a loyal dog. She shivered. The reality of that dream, the cold and hunger and fear as the two women had made their way up through the dense fir forests was still with her, even as she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower to thaw the cold from her own bones.

After two mugs of coffee and some toast she began to feel more human. She checked her phone but there was no message from Simon. Did that mean that Emma had gone back to London with her mother? No doubt she would hear eventually. Propping her own little Ava on the shelf between the pots of jam and marmalade that Mark loved with his toast, she sat back to think. Mark was obviously out and she had no idea when she would see him next, so there was nothing to stop her going back to bed. She resisted the thought sharply. No more of Eadburh and her misery. Not now. She reached for her phone instead and called Heather.

They walked together down towards Castle Green. ‘I assumed Mark would have told you what happened when I went to see Sandra. I was so rattled after I left her, I came straight over to see you. You weren’t there so I told him. I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but you had said he knew.’

‘He never had the chance to tell me. He was very late back last night.’ They stopped beneath the lime trees to watch some children playing with a ball.

A little boy, slightly bigger than the others, retrieved it from the edge of the grass and ran off with it, jeering, leaving the little ones in tears. Moments later, two women detached themselves from the group of adults gossiping nearby and set off in pursuit of the ball and a peace settlement. The interlude had given Bea the chance to think. ‘Can Sandra be convinced to stand back now and leave things to me? What did she say to you?’

Heather sighed. ‘Let me tell you what happened.’

They walked slowly across the grass as Heather talked, and stopped at last on the footbridge across the river, standing side by side looking down into the water. ‘Sandra is not going to give up on this,’ Heather said as she finished her story. ‘I never had a hope of convincing her.’

‘Couldn’t you persuade her to come back to the cathedral?’

Heather looked at her incredulously. ‘You don’t really mean that?’

‘I would rather she was somewhere we can keep an eye on her. Emma has almost certainly gone home now, to concentrate on her exams, so there’s nothing here for Sandra to anguish about any more. I know she won’t forget this, and she will probably be watching me forever, but l can but hope she’ll grow bored and think of someone else to persecute.’

She didn’t really believe it herself and, judging by Heather’s expression as they turned to walk back, neither did she.

42

For the first couple of days Val stayed at home, afraid to go out and leave Emma alone, then at last she had begun to resume her usual routine, shopping, coffee with friends, hours of what her daughter considered to be vacuous gossip on the phone. Two more days and Em and Felix would be back at school and then it wouldn’t be long before the exams began. As the door closed behind her mother, Emma ran up the stairs to her brother’s room. Felix was seated at his desk.

‘She’s gone to meet someone at Peter Jones.’

Felix grinned. ‘Then you’ve got a few hours of peace. She’s