abandoned the castle with shrieks of mock terror. On the way home, Summer fell asleep in the car.
Glimpsing the child’speaceful face in the driving mirror, Jude thought again about the strange dreams. It was interesting what Euan had said. That Summer hadn’t liked going to the folly a few weeks ago. That might have been half-term. Claire had pinpointed half-term as the time that the dreams had started. Was the folly visit just a coincidence or had something about the place really frightened her?
That night Judewas woken by Summer murmuring in her sleep, and lay, listening and anxious, but the girl didn’t wake and after a few minutes she quieted. Still, Jude couldn’t sleep, and her worries bored deeper. Maybe the answer lay at the folly? Perhaps there’d be time to visit it in the early morning, on her way through to St. Alban’s. Deciding this, she felt more peaceful, and she slept.
CHAPTER 9
Stepping over the barbed wire and into the forest clearing was like breaching some magic circle. Early morning sunlight filtering through the branches striped the grass. The dew was nearly gone and the air smelled delicious, of earth and wood and vegetation. Once again, Jude was struck by the fancy that the tower was growing out of the ground like the trees, for the loose stones andbricks around its wide base suggested roots, and ivy clutched the walls.
The “Keep Out” sign was propped up next to a ragged wooden door. If there had been a keyhole it had long since rotted, but she was dismayed to see an iron bolt with a rusty padlock. She should have thought that it might be locked. Maybe Euan had a key. She pulled at the padlock in frustration and, to her joy, the mechanismsprang open. The possibility of adventure flowered in her mind. She looked quickly about. There was no one to tell her she was trespassing. No one and nothing, only the conversation of birds and the sough of the wind in the leaves.
The bolt shifted easily enough, but when Jude pulled the door it resisted, and she saw its top hinge was broken. Lifting the door by the bolt allowed her to shuffleit open and she passed at last into the tower.
She hadn’t a clear picture of what to expect, but something more attractive than what she now saw. The floor inside comprised chunks of brick embedded in bare ground to make a herringbone pattern. It was damp and uneven so that she stumbled in the half darkness and almost fell. The smell was awful: damp, mildewy, earthy, old. Out of the shadows,a brick staircase wound upward into cold darkness. A pale finger of sunlight fell across the bottom step, showing it to be crumbling and sploched with moss. From above came a scuttering sound. “Hello?” she called up, not really expecting an answer. She waited. The tower waited. There was silence. Of course there was no one, she berated herself. Jude placed a hand on each wall of the staircase andone foot tentatively on the lowest step. It held, so she tried the next. She’d stop if it seemed dangerous, she told herself.
As she climbed, the darkness thickened and her skin prickled. She transferred her hands to the steps above and walked on all fours, like an animal, her sense of balance gone, so that every few steps she felt as though she was falling backward. She counted the stairs, nine,ten, eleven. They were comfortably deep, not too high. Fifteen, sixteen. She passed into a little patch of light from a window like an arrow hole. She peered out, but all she could see was light glinting on foliage. On she went and her heart plunged in her chest as her hand missed its hold—a brick had gone. She edged round the gap carefully with her foot. Twenty-nine, thirty. What made her attemptthis madness? Thirty-nine, forty. Now a pale, dreary light filled the air. She must be nearly there. Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven. She was cold now, shivering with nerves. Another ten steps. She must be nearly at the top. And suddenly she emerged into a little round room. She sat on
Glimpsing the child’speaceful face in the driving mirror, Jude thought again about the strange dreams. It was interesting what Euan had said. That Summer hadn’t liked going to the folly a few weeks ago. That might have been half-term. Claire had pinpointed half-term as the time that the dreams had started. Was the folly visit just a coincidence or had something about the place really frightened her?
That night Judewas woken by Summer murmuring in her sleep, and lay, listening and anxious, but the girl didn’t wake and after a few minutes she quieted. Still, Jude couldn’t sleep, and her worries bored deeper. Maybe the answer lay at the folly? Perhaps there’d be time to visit it in the early morning, on her way through to St. Alban’s. Deciding this, she felt more peaceful, and she slept.
CHAPTER 9
Stepping over the barbed wire and into the forest clearing was like breaching some magic circle. Early morning sunlight filtering through the branches striped the grass. The dew was nearly gone and the air smelled delicious, of earth and wood and vegetation. Once again, Jude was struck by the fancy that the tower was growing out of the ground like the trees, for the loose stones andbricks around its wide base suggested roots, and ivy clutched the walls.
The “Keep Out” sign was propped up next to a ragged wooden door. If there had been a keyhole it had long since rotted, but she was dismayed to see an iron bolt with a rusty padlock. She should have thought that it might be locked. Maybe Euan had a key. She pulled at the padlock in frustration and, to her joy, the mechanismsprang open. The possibility of adventure flowered in her mind. She looked quickly about. There was no one to tell her she was trespassing. No one and nothing, only the conversation of birds and the sough of the wind in the leaves.
The bolt shifted easily enough, but when Jude pulled the door it resisted, and she saw its top hinge was broken. Lifting the door by the bolt allowed her to shuffleit open and she passed at last into the tower.
She hadn’t a clear picture of what to expect, but something more attractive than what she now saw. The floor inside comprised chunks of brick embedded in bare ground to make a herringbone pattern. It was damp and uneven so that she stumbled in the half darkness and almost fell. The smell was awful: damp, mildewy, earthy, old. Out of the shadows,a brick staircase wound upward into cold darkness. A pale finger of sunlight fell across the bottom step, showing it to be crumbling and sploched with moss. From above came a scuttering sound. “Hello?” she called up, not really expecting an answer. She waited. The tower waited. There was silence. Of course there was no one, she berated herself. Jude placed a hand on each wall of the staircase andone foot tentatively on the lowest step. It held, so she tried the next. She’d stop if it seemed dangerous, she told herself.
As she climbed, the darkness thickened and her skin prickled. She transferred her hands to the steps above and walked on all fours, like an animal, her sense of balance gone, so that every few steps she felt as though she was falling backward. She counted the stairs, nine,ten, eleven. They were comfortably deep, not too high. Fifteen, sixteen. She passed into a little patch of light from a window like an arrow hole. She peered out, but all she could see was light glinting on foliage. On she went and her heart plunged in her chest as her hand missed its hold—a brick had gone. She edged round the gap carefully with her foot. Twenty-nine, thirty. What made her attemptthis madness? Thirty-nine, forty. Now a pale, dreary light filled the air. She must be nearly there. Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven. She was cold now, shivering with nerves. Another ten steps. She must be nearly at the top. And suddenly she emerged into a little round room. She sat on
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