Page 10 of The Midnight Secret

‘You could be right.’

She heard his hair rustle against the ground as he turned to look at her. ‘Do you really think that or are you just humouring me?’

‘When have I ever humoured you?’

There was a pause, then another rustle as he stared at the stars again. ‘It makes better sense to me.’

‘And it comforts me,’ she replied. ‘To think we could still be with her, wherever we are.’

‘Aye.’

A golden flash dazzled her, blinding her suddenly, and she closed her eyes tightly, knowing the moment must be drawing close now. She turned onto her side, facing him, giving ashiver as she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Clear skies always turned chilly at night.

‘Cold?’ he asked, lifting his head to see her better.

‘I’m all right,’ she murmured. ‘Just tired.’ She placed a hand on the grassy dome that lay between them, as if patting Molly.

‘Goodnight, then,’ she heard David say as he too turned inwards, his own hand reaching out and accidentally covering hers. ‘Sorry.’ He pulled it away sharply, positioning it somewhere else instead.

Jayne stared into the darkness, jolted momentarily by the unexpected touch. His hand was warm and rough, not as large as Norman’s, nor as cruel, and she realized she couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than her husband had touched her hand. Her arm. Her hair...Any part of her, in fact.

She wished he would cover her hand with his again, the both of them covering Molly and protecting her. They were here to lie with her in companionship, after all – so why was it Jayne who felt so alone? She didn’t want to sleep. She knew there would never come another night like this, when she could lie under the stars and talk to her friend; her nights were so very different. She wanted to stay awake all night, to search for Molly in the stars until the sun broke cover. Was that what David wanted too? She had thought she heard regret in his voice as he wished her goodnight...But she was subject to forces he couldn’t possibly understand, and her eyelids fluttered heavily, dragging her under and away from this, into a place of darkness.

The sound had been indistinct – a stone rolled out of position on the ground, perhaps; a distant dog’s bark or a stray bird squabbling on a ledge. But something had woken her.

Jayne sat up slowly, her entire body leaden as if she hadwoken into dreamland. Was she, in fact, still sleeping? She looked around, disoriented. David was still lying on his side, his arm slung over the grassy grave like a strap, the blanket twisted at his waist, sharing an intimacy in sleep that had never been afforded to him when Molly was alive.

Another sound came, this one more like a grunt, and she got to her knees just in time to peer over the wall and see a figure heading down the slopes towards the village. It was difficult to see clearly before they slipped through the dyke and were almost hidden from view again; she could make out only a head and shoulders. But the houndstooth check of a lambing shawl seemed distinctive as the figure crept past a window before turning out of sight.

Jayne sank back onto her heels, trying to make the connection, but the fugue was still heavy upon her and she slowly sank back to the ground, the grass rising up in a soft embrace.

Whispers, so quiet by day, could slice through the night like knives, and if her eyes were closed, her ears were open. Jayne stirred again, sitting up in a trance. The moon had moved its position slightly on the water; David had rolled onto his back. This was the same act as before, but a different scene. How much time had passed? It was after midnight, she knew that.

The whispers came again, and she tried to rouse herself more fully to escape the delirium that had her pinned between worlds. Her body moved clumsily, her balance off as she got to her knees in time to see two figures moving through the narrow gap in the dyke. Both heads were bent with concentration, but one of the figures was propping up the other. Were they injured? Could she help? She must help...

But she couldn’t move, her limbs as useless as if the bones had been snapped.

No.The protest, strong in her mind, made no register in her throat and she felt her heart rate quicken as the terrible vision flashed through her mind and stayed there. Surely this was it now? Fate had swung its mortal blade, and she was free of the bonds that had captured her these past few days?

But her eyelids fluttered again and she felt herself slump, still caught after all. She was like a fish in a net, hoping to be thrown free, but instinct telling her there was worse still to come.

Heavy breathing. Just air upon air, the clash of hot breath into the cool as the dark night lengthened and stretched. She could tell they had entered the dead of night now, and Jayne swayed, her body moving by rote as she got to her knees, peering over the wall back down to the village and waiting for the next figure on the stage.

But the sound that came next was behind her. She was looking the wrong way. Staggering around, her skirt catching under her knees, she turned and looked up the slope to find a figure heading for the ridge. Arms swinging, they would have marched right past her and David here. Had they peered in and glimpsed them hugging the grave? Or did they believe themselves to be fully alone in the witching hour? No witches here...?

Jayne watched the figure stride strong and solid over the grass, instantly recognizable even though it was also...inexplicable. She frowned in her half-wakened trance. It made no sense to her.

But then, it didn’t need to. She was given images, not narratives. She was only a witness, not a judge.

The figure disappeared into the shadowy moor and she felt the darkness engulf her once again, her head hanging as she placed her hands on the grass and sank back into oblivion.

It was all over, finally. Or about to be.

Chapter Three

‘Jayne?’ She felt pressure on her shoulder, a warmth on her chilled, dewy skin. ‘Jayne, wake up.’

Her eyelids fluttered open and she had to squint as the brightness of the dawn fell upon her face. David was crouched beside her, moving slightly so that his shadow covered her, his dark hair falling forward as he smiled down. ‘It’s time. They’re here.’

---