*That's what one says to ward off evil, isn't it? To keep him away.'

Kate reached out and took his hand. *We could say it together if it helps. You're right. It's supposed to keep evil spirits away. I'm not much of an authority on prayer.'

*Or evil spirits, I expect.' He forced a small laugh. *Do you know it in Latin? Pater Noster. All that. He must speak Latin if he's a Roman. We don't do Latin at my school.' Again the strained little laugh. *It never crossed my mind that I might need it.'

May the G.o.ds of all eternity curse you, Marcus Severus, and bring your putrid body and your rotten soul to judgement for what you have done here this day.

Kate rubbed her face with her hands. The words were trapped in her brain. They were not external. If they had been Paddy would have heard them too. And the words were in English.

*I think he understands our language,' she said carefully. They had both accepted, she noticed, that it was Marcus they had seen, not some flesh and blood intruder in the woods. *I think if we are communicating with him or with anyone else it is in our heads.'

*But you could tell him to sod off in Latin?' He said it so hopefully she heard herself laugh out loud.

*I did the kind of Latin one learns in the hope that it will facilitate one's grasp of literature,' she said apologetically. *I don't think I ever learned to say sod off.' She paused. *I do know the Pater Noster though.'

*Say it.'

*Pater Noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da n.o.bis hodie. Et dimitte n.o.bis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem: sed libera nos a malo ...' She stopped.

There was a moment's silence. *Go on,' he whispered.

*That's it. Or at least, that's all I can remember. But that's the important bit. Libera nos a malo. Deliver us from evil.' It didn't matter. There was no one out there listening now. She was sure of it. He had gone. *Paddy, let's try and find the gun. It can't have gone far.' It was almost dark. The light was failing fast.

*I think it fell over there. Don't tell Dad it went off. He'll never let me use it again.'

*It probably saved our lives,' she retorted tersely. *I can see it. There. In those nettles.'

The snow was thicker now, drifting down, here a pale drifting cloud, there driven by the wind into a stinging curtain.

Patrick retrieved the gun cautiously, and broke it under his arm. He looked round. *There's no sign of a path. I can't even see which way we came.'

*This way.' Kate didn't hesitate. She pushed through some brambles and began to climb a small incline, her borrowed boots slipping in the snow.

*Wait.' Patrick was staring round. *Look. Through the trees.'

*Where?'

*There. I can see a light.'

*Thank G.o.d!' It was a heartfelt prayer. Side by side they scrambled towards it, sliding and slipping downwards now, out of the eye of the wind into the shelter of the woods again.

*It's gone. I can't see it.'

*There. There it is.' Patrick stopped. *It's Redall. Oh, Kate, we've come round in a circle. We're back where we started. He's not going to let us escape.' The disappointment and fear in his voice were palpable.

She bit her lip, angry with herself as much for the stupidity as for the overwhelming rush of relief which had swept over her. *Can't be helped. We'll go back in and see if we can find a compa.s.s.'

*Right.' He nodded firmly.

*Then we'll have to try again. And this time we'll stay on the main track.'

*Agreed.' He gave her a broad grin. *A hot drink first, though. Yes?'

*Yes.' She put her arm around his shoulder.

LIV.

Jon opened the door of his flat and peered in. It smelt stale; unlived in. Cyrus, he had heard only yesterday before he flew out of Kennedy, had stayed there just two days before having a ma.s.sive fight with the sponsors of his London visit, and flying back to the States.

Dropping his bag on the floor, Jon pushed the front door closed behind him with his foot and stooped to pick up his mail. Wearily he walked across to the table and threw it down. On the windowsill a vase of dead flowers stood in a circle of sticky yellow pollen. He went to pick it up and carried it through to the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the stench from the stale water. On the worktop was a set of keys. Turning on the tap so it ran into the vase, flushing away the slimy green deposits which clung to the rough porcelain he picked up the keys and looked at the tag. A small black cat. Kate's keys. He smacked them down on the counter. Two days! Two lousy days Cyrus had stayed and he had as good as thrown her out for that! Well, he had paid back the first half of her money now, at least.

Going back to the living room, he flung himself down on the sofa and reached onto the table beside him to punch the answer machine. The calls went on and on. He listened wearily, his eyes closed. The procession of voices through the cold half light of the afternoon was like a review of his life. *Hi Jon. Call me when you get back' ... *Jon, if you're there around the 18th we're having a get together ...' *Jon, don't forget, twelve thirty on the 23rd at the Groucho ...' *Jon ...' *Jon ...' *Jon ...'

He stood up and went to pour himself a Scotch. The bottle a all the bottles on the tray, he noticed wryly a were empty.

*s.h.i.t!'

*Jon. This is Bill. Just to let you know all the phones down at Redall seem to be out of commission. I'm going down this morning a it's about ten on Sat.u.r.day morning now a to see what's going on.'

Jon switched off the machine. Reaching for the phone he dialled Bill's number. It rang on in the silence. He redialled a Bill's cottage this time. *Come on, answer.' Jon drummed his fingers on his knee. Abruptly he cut the connection. He tried the Redall Cottage number. The line was still dead. Swearing under his breath, he dialled the Lindseys'. That, too was silent. He slammed down the receiver and stood up. What the h.e.l.l was going on up there?

Turning to his bags, he found the bottle of duty free Talisker he had picked up at the airport. Uncapping it he poured himself a slug.

Why the h.e.l.l did he care so much anyway? Kate was part of history. They had not got on. The affair was over. Finished. Kaput. There was nothing left to rekindle. She wasn't interested in him any more, however friendly she had been on the phone. That was just politeness; typical Kate, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. He would probably never see her again.

He drained his gla.s.s and poured some more. Outside the window with its veil of sooty net the London street grew dark. A steady wet sleet had begun to fall. Setting down his gla.s.s Jon went to switch on the tall, chrome lamp in the corner. Then he reached for the road map.

LV.

HATE.

ANGER.

FURY.

raging inside her head. There were no words, no form; a mael strom of whirling pain.

*Mummy!'

The cry was m.u.f.fled, agonised. It fell into the black silence of the room, unheard.

*Mummy, help me!'

They were inside her head, locked in battle. He, Marcus, always the stronger, tearing at the core of her brain, wanting her, using her, needing her voice, her arms, her strength.

And she. Claudia. She would not give in. The truth must be told. Nion. Betrayed. Insult to the G.o.ds. Nion. Nion. Love of my life, partner of my soul.

Tear them out. Be rid of them. Be free of them. Nails. Rip them out with her nails. Tear her head open.

*MUMMY. HELP ME!'

*Let the truth be told. I will have the truth told.' The scream is louder now. Claudia is gaining in strength. *The grave is open. The secret is out. The people of Britain shall avenge our death. The fall of the Empire will not be revenge enough. May the G.o.ds of all eternity curse you, Marcus Severus Secundus, for what you have done ...'

*No, no, NO!'

Alison sat up violently, her hands to her temples. Her nails were red with her own blood. She stared round the room. The lights were no longer on, but she could see quite clearly. The woman was standing by the window, her blue gown moving gently as though the wind were blowing from behind her, her feet in the soft dune sand, her hair tangled in its combs. She seemed to see right through the wall, through the house, through the darkness and the snow.

Alison cowered against the wall. Blood. There was blood everywhere; down the front of the woman's dress; on the floor on her own sheets and a she looked down suddenly, seeing without trouble in the darkness, all over her own hands.

Her own scream blocked out the sound of voices. She screamed on and on, out of control, out of her head now, watching herself from the doorway, watching the group of people downstairs rise from the kitchen table, pick up their candles and head towards the stairs. Diana was there first, the flame of her candle shivering and trailing smoke.

*Alison. Alison, darling! Oh Christ, what's wrong with her?'

She could see her mother's arm around her, see her mouth moving, but she felt nothing. He was there now, inside her head again. Laughing. Why was he laughing? Laughing at the blood and the pain. Laughing at her: the woman by the curtains. She was indistinct now, a shadow from a distant past. Nothing more. Disappearing. Vanquished. Crumbling back into the sand. Part of the forgotten time ...

*Pater noster ...' It was Patrick's voice, trembling, in the shadows. *Libera nos a malo. Ave Maria. Libera nos a malo.' The words slid into a sob of pain.

*Her face. Christ, Di, look at her face.' Breathless, Roger had joined the group on the landing, peering over his wife's shoulder. *Shut up, Paddy!' He turned on his son. *I won't have that sentimental c.r.a.p uttered in this house!'

*Go away, all of you.' Diana tightened her grip on Alison's shoulders. *Go away. I'll see to her.' She glanced up, scarcely able to see through her tears. *Kate, will you stay. The rest of you go downstairs.'

For a moment Roger opened his mouth, about to speak, then he changed his mind. He handed Kate his candle and turned away. He was shaking visibly as he ushered the others down.

Obediently Kate went to the bathroom for a facecloth and, wringing it out brought it back to the bedroom. Diana wiped the blood from Alison's hands, then gently she guided her back to bed. *You're safe now, sweetheart. Quite safe.'

*What about her face?' Kate was holding the candle steady.

*I'll leave it for now. They're only superficial scratches.' Diana glanced at her wearily. *I'm not letting you and Paddy or Joe leave this house again tonight.'

*Someone must get help, Diana.'

*Time enough in daylight. Everything must wait until then.'

*But what about Greg? What about Cissy?' Kate had been appalled at the sight of Cissy Farnborough lying, barely conscious, on the sofa by the fire.

*She'll be all right. I can take care of her. There is someone trying to kill us all out there, Kate!' Diana pulled the sheet up around Alison's chin and tucked it in. *I am not letting anyone else set foot outside this house.'

Kate looked down at Alison. The girl was quiet now, lying very still on her blood-stained pillow, breathing long, even breaths as though she were asleep again. *What do you think happened?' she asked in a whisper.

*She had a nightmare.' There was a desperate set to Diana's chin.

*I think it was more than that.' Kate walked further into the room. The small intimate s.p.a.ce, lit by the two candles was icy cold. On the floor in front of the curtains lay a scattering of sand. Kate stared down at it for a moment, frowning, then she turned away. *Why did your husband swear at Paddy for praying?'

*He doesn't believe in G.o.d. He stopped believing the day he discovered he had cancer.'

*And does he believe in evil? In possession? In ghosts?'

It was Diana's turn to shiver. *He's a reductionist and a fatalist. He believes in nothing that cannot be scientifically proven.'

*How strange.' Kate's eyes were fixed on Alison's face. To her, Roger had come across as a man with poetry in his soul. And he was a man who still, in extremis, cried out the name of Christ even though it meant nothing to him.

*Do you pray?' Diana sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a gentle hand on her daughter's forehead. It was very cold.

*Not very often. But it was me who taught Paddy the words to say. Outside in the dark it seemed the right thing to do. He thought Marcus would understand the Latin.'

*And did he?' The note of irony Diana was aiming at somehow failed to materialise; the question came out straight.

*I don't know. But the words made me feel better. A shield. A talisman against evil.'

*He's got us trapped here, hasn't he.' Diana looked at her suddenly and for a moment she could no longer hide her panic. *Every one of the cars is damaged; the phone won't work; no one knows what's happened. Bill and Cissy tried to help us and look what happened to them.' A tear slid down her face. *And Allie. What's happened to Allie?'

Kate knelt beside her and took her hand. *I think we should take Allie downstairs. I think we should all stay together.'

*She's right.' Greg's voice from the landing made them both jump. He hobbled in and stood looking down at his sister. *I'll ask Joe to come and carry her down then I think you should make a huge cauldron of soup for us all.' He was looking at his mother. He glanced at Kate who was still kneeling on the floor. *Everything will seem a bit less fraught in the morning, then we can send for reinforcements.'

Kate gave him a watery smile. *You make it sound easy.' The flickering candlelight, made her face look ethereal. She had, he noticed not for the first time, a frail, pre-Raphaelite beauty, emphasised by her disordered, tangled hair and helped, he supposed wryly, by the submissive posture, on her knees at his feet.

*It will be easy. Everything is always better in daylight.'

*Don't tempt providence!' As if realising that her position put her at a disadvantage, she scrambled to her feet. Standing, she was as tall as he. *Greg.' She put her hand on his arm, her voice barely a whisper. *Look, by the window. On the floor.'

He raised an eyebrow, then picking up the candle, he limped across and surveyed the carpet.

*Sand. It could have come from Allie's shoes.'

*But it didn't. I was up here earlier and it wasn't here.'

*How can you be sure?'

*I just am.' She shrugged. *I notice things like that. After the cottage.'

*What are you saying?' Diana turned to look at the carpet.