‘You should never say that. Perhaps something even worse might’ve happened.’
‘Personally,’ Eirion said, ‘I really can’t conceive of anything worse than what did happen. How’s Jane?’
‘Sleeping.’ She’d put Eirion in one of the bedrooms on the first floor.
‘Jane’s in a bad way about this,’ he said.
‘I know. She thinks she was guilty of rather demonizing Layla.’
It was the first thing Jane had said when Merrily and Lol had arrived at the Barnchurch: Mum, I got her deeply, deeply wrong. We started talking, and gradually she was like really normal – like a friend, a mate… oh God! Jane was looking like the time when, as a very small girl, she’d found a pot of raspberry jam and got it all over her face and down her front; only it wasn’t jam this time and it was even in her hair, so much of it that Merrily’d panicked and thought she must have been stabbed, too, and hadn’t bothered to tell the paramedics. Layla died. Mum, I watched her dying. I watched her heaving and shivering and struggling for breath… Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…
In fact, Layla had passed away in the ambulance: multiple stab wounds, at least one believed to have penetrated a lung. It was Eirion who’d had to watch her die on the way to Casualty – the ambulance leaving as the fire engines came in.
The Barnchurch had burned to a shell. The flames had already been into the rafters when Jane and the wounded Eirion had brought Layla out.
‘The kid must have been behind that screen the whole time,’ he said now. ‘Clutching her knife. What was she doing with a knife?’
‘Well, I – I believe her mother, Justine, used to take a kitchen knife with her as protection when she went to a local church to hide from Amy’s father. This was the knife he ended up using on her.’
‘I couldn’t believe the… strength in her. She was like a wildcat, a puma or something. The flames behind her. That white party dress. It was terrifying – sort of elemental. I was just shaking all over, afterwards. I’m sure I’m going to see her in nightmares for the rest of my life.’
‘It’ll fade, Eirion, I promise. Erm… I know the police have asked you this, but what do you think brought it on?’
Eirion drank some tea, trying not to move his injured arm. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot more, obviously, since I talked to the police. I suppose, if you were looking for an ordinary, rational explanation, you’d have to say it was because of what Layla had been telling us. She wasn’t being particularly polite about Amy. One of the last things she said before it happened, she called Amy a monster and said perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing if she was put into care.’
Merrily nodded. ‘Mmm. And if we weren’t looking for an ordinary, rational explanation…?’
‘Well, earlier, Layla told us how the spiritualism thing had started with her stepfather, Allan, finding out about Amy’s history when he was looking for some dirt on Mr Shelbone because—’
‘It’s OK, I know about that.’
‘And then Layla got excited because she assumed she was doing it, that it was coming through her. But then, the further they went with it, the more they realized that it was actually Amy—’
‘Amy?’
‘Layla said Amy was this incredible natural medium. It was Amy who had… raised her mother, if you like.’ Eirion drank more tea. ‘I think Layla had the idea that if she stuck with Amy, kind of supervising her progress, then she’d see some, you know, amazing things. She said – this is all a bit creepy for me, Mrs Watkins, but she said that it seemed like Justine had been about to kind of, you know, manifest. Which was why they were here on the night of the full moon, because there’d been one the night Justine died.’
‘And Layla was convinced Amy was the real medium?’
‘She said she’d been trying to develop her own psychic side for years, and suddenly here was this awful, repressed little girl who was a natural. She said she was quite jealous. That’s more or less what she said. Does this mean Amy could be in some way possessed?’
‘I don’t know.’ Merrily was thinking back to the intense, truncated night in her own church when an eighteenth-century penny had supposedly given her God’s spin on the problem: no demonic possession in this case, no possession by an unquiet spirit. ‘I suppose,’ she said, clutching another of those slender straws frequently offered to you by faith, ‘that mediumship and spiritual possession are separated by a degree of control. The medium consents to open herself to the spirit, knowing she can always close the door.’
‘That’s more or less what Layla said.’
‘Except we’re not talking about Betty Shine here, we’re talking about a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl, and a fairly archaic example of the species at that – impressionable, naive—’
‘Will she be charged with murder?’
‘I don’t see how they can avoid it.’
She was momentarily haunted again by thoughts she’d kept pushing away, about the similarities between this killing and Stock’s murder of his wife. In fact, when you examined them individually, the similarities were not so great, since the Romany element was peripheral to the Shelbone issue. To an outsider, the strongest link between the two cases would be herself: Deliverance – failed.
‘It’s tragic,’ Eirion said. ‘When you think about it, it’s tragic for everyone. Layla Riddock – she was about the same age as me, and she was…’ There were tears in his eyes. ‘She was obviously incredibly intelligent. And there she was, one minute coolly analysing the situation, the next coughing up all that blood, and then in the ambulance… What a terrible waste, Mrs Watkins. I’ve heard people say that so many times, but when you actually—’
‘Eirion,’ Merrily said, ‘you really are a nice guy. You risk alienating your family to pursue Jane’s whim, you—’
‘No, I’m not.’ He stared at her, blinking in agony. ‘I slept with your daughter!’
His features slumped into comical dejection, like a boxer puppy’s.
‘I see,’ Merrily said softly.
‘Last night – well, evening. It was the first time. It was why we were so late getting to the Shelbones. We fell asleep. You see, that’s another thing – retribution. If we hadn’t… been to bed, we’d have got there earlier – and Layla might still be alive. It’s retribution.’
‘I really don’t think so.’ Suddenly she wanted to laugh. She’d often thought about what she’d say in this situation, and now she didn’t know what she wanted to say. Except… ‘Well… thanks for telling me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Eirion said.
‘Well, you know, it’s not—’
‘I do love Jane, you see.’
‘Yeah. That’s, er, that’s the impression I already had.’
‘I mean, it wasn’t… casual sex. I’m a not a very casual sort of bloke.’
‘No?’
‘In fact this was the… you know, the first time.’
‘You said.’
‘No, I mean for me. For me, too.’
‘I see. Does Jane know that?’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘that’s probably not the impression I’ve given her, no.’
‘I won’t tell her, then.’
‘That’s very good of you.’
‘But just… just take good care of her. You know what I’m saying?’
‘I think so.’
‘I was only about three years older than you when I was pregnant, so I’ve tended not to come on heavy with Jane, so as to avoid any mention of pots, kettles and the colour black.’
He smiled tentatively. On the shelf beside the Aga, Merrily’s mobile began to bleep.