The Enemy Within

Chapter 2

After a simple lunch they fulfilled their promise to Toby and set off to explore the area. Will carried a sturdy stick of hedgeside wood, which he had cut from one of the wild blackthorn bushes that surrounded their garden. He was playing the part of what he fancied was a countryman, Alice thought. Well let him be the fool.

She could see in the daylight that the cottage was at the end of a lane with nothing beyond it but small fields of rough pastureland.

"Great, isn"t it?" he enthused.

Indeed it was. After the strain of the past months it was a tonic to feel the wind on his face and be able to stride out freely. It had been a long time since he had walked in unspoilt countryside – and this area was remarkably free of so-called improvements. Mature trees grew at intervals in the high fieldside hedges: oak, ash and wild cherry. It occurred to him that this landscape hadn"t changed much since the eighteenth-century enclosures.

She offered him an unenthusiastic smile, calculated to humble the most testosterone-charged outdoorsman. "Suppose it could be wonderful, if you prefer fields to people."

They walked for a while up the metalled lane that led from the cottage to the village. Will pointed out the church tower, which could be glimpsed through the almost leafless trees of the churchyard a quarter mile ahead of them.

"Must look at that church one day. Could be interesting. The village is a little way beyond it." He studied his Ordnance Survey Explorer map. "There"s a footpath off the lane somewhere here." He rummaged in the hedge for a minute with his stick. "Ah yes, there"s a stile in the hedge. Bit overgrown, but none the worse for that."

They clambered over the stile, which led into a field of rough pasture. Toby ran excitedly ahead of them.

Will smiled. "Great to see him enjoying himself, being a proper boy."

She didn"t reply. She could sense his anger increasing.

"Look, Alice, can"t we just put our egos aside for Toby"s sake?"

It was a reasonable suggestion. But reason had abandoned her long ago. She sighed. "I haven"t got an ego anymore." Only wounds, she thought. And destroyed self-confidence.

"Please, Alice. We must make a go of this."

She let him agonize. They walked on in silence. His attention seemed to be taken up watching Toby, who was looking at the trees that leaned out from the hedgesides like benign ancestors. Curiosity forced her to speak at last.

"So, who"s our nearest neighbour? I assume we do have neighbours?"

have"A place called Boggarts Hall about a half-dozen fields away."

"Measuring distances by fields now!" she laughed. "How quaint. What"s a boggart?"

"No idea. The agent told me some famous artist guy lives there."

She was immediately interested, but had no intention of making it obvious. "What sort of stuff does he paint?"

He shrugged. "Maybe we could call on him and find out."

She made a show of reluctance. "I should get on with the unpacking."

"Time for that later. We should go to Boggarts Hall as a family. "Show a bit of solidarity."

The sight of his earnest face produced an indulgent smile. "If it makes you feel better."

Toby suddenly called out to them. He waved his arms in excitement:

"Mum! Dad! Look at this!"

They caught him up. To their surprise a holy well lay before them. Water ran into a shallow stone trough from a gushing spring that surfaced in a hollow a few metres from the hedge and filled the trough through a stone conduit. Bits of rag and coloured ribbons hung from a hawthorn bush above the spring. A carved sign by the well read: NATTIE FONTEN. The well was fenced around, but there was a little gate in the fence. The gate was unlocked.

NATTIE FONTEN"What is it?" Toby asked, his voice filled with wonder.

Alice looked thoughtful. "I think it"s a holy well. It"s obviously a special place."

Will opened the little gate and peered into the trough. "Nothing in here but water. No coins or anything."

He dabbled his fingers in the water. Toby followed him and did the same.

"Wow! It"s cold!" Toby stuck his fingers inside his jacket to warm them up. "What"s it here for, Dad?"

"I think people came here to make wishes…for good health, for a better future, for the earth to give them more apples and potatoes, that sort of thing."

"They still come by the look of it," Alice commented drily.

"Is it magic?" Toby asked excitedly. "Can we make a wish? Can I make one?"

"Yes, we can all make wishes here." Will lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. "But we mustn"t tell anyone what we"ve wished for."

They stood a moment, communing with the well, then continued on their way across the field. Toby looked back a few times at the well.

"He"s made a connection here already," Will commented.

"So it seems."

"The great thing about kids is they don"t build barriers." He nodded to himself, as if he needed confirmation. "They accept magic as being normal."

* * *

Simon Lucas, forty years old and darkly handsome, but with something faintly predatory about him, sat on his terrace at Boggarts Hall with Will, Alice and Toby. The adults drank an expensive chateau wine. Toby, looking bored, sipped orange juice.

chateauSimon"s house stood behind them: a rambling Jacobean hall, the latest in a succession of dwellings that had occupied the site since the twelfth century.Ranges of attractive outbuildings, including a smithy and a pottery kiln, stretched away on both sides.

"I let them at a peppercorn rent to local craft people."

With a practised flourish, Simon poured more wine. Alice noticed he didn"t spill a single drop, unlike Will, who usually splashed it all over the table.

"Great wine, Simon." Will was far from an expert, but he didn"t want to seem too gauche. The wine did indeed settle smoothly on the palate.

Simon waved his hand at the old hall in a seemingly dismissive gesture. "When my uncle left me the house, I also inherited his wine cellar. Quite a few fine wines down there. This is a "74. Supposed to have been a very good year. I"m gradually working my way through them all!"

They drank for a moment in silence, savouring the wine.

Will drained his glass and beamed approvingly. "We just came in time then!"

Simon"s laugh was a little forced, Will thought.

Their host eased himself back in his garden chair. "You saw Nattie Fonten, our rag well?"

Nattie Fonten"We did," Alice met Simon"s gaze. "What"s special about a rag well?"

"Locals tie rags on the hawthorn bush and make a wish," Simon explained. "It"s an ancient tradition in the parish. They consider both the tree and the well to be sacred."

"Who"s Nattie?" Will asked.

"She"s the spirit of the well." Simon studied his audience"s reaction to his pagan revelation. He was gratified to see that the Hardings appeared interested rather than disapproving. "Nattie is the local version of the great Earth Mother," he said, smiling. "Folk here are devotees!"

Will Harding seemed intrigued, Simon thought. But Alice? She was harder to read. He ran his eyes over her as she sat sipping her wine. She looked up and their gaze met briefly. She smiled behind her glass. Alice, Simon decided, was definitely showing interest in the owner of Boggarts Hall…

Will caught the subtle contact between them. He made an effort to assert his presence. "So, who were the boggarts?"

Simon looked from Will to Alice. "The locals say they"re sprites, a kind of nature spirit, who lived here before people arrived. They say if you respect the land and put a bowl of milk by the back door at night the boggarts will leave you in peace!"

"And do you put milk out?" Alice asked, amused.

"Don"t dare not to!" Simon laughed. "My reason tells me the milk evaporates, or it"s drunk by feral cats. But my intuition tells me it"s the boggarts!"

His eyes lingered on Alice. She returned his gaze more openly.

"It"s such an ancient landscape," Will butted in a little awkwardly. "Lots of ridge and furrow and old mixed hedges. We love it already!"

"There are places here that are more than just old." Simon"s voice seemed more sombre, even tinged with a sense of awe. "They"re truly otherworldly. It"s an area of atmospheres and presences like nowhere I"ve ever known."

Simon"s words had the effect of causing a brief silence, broken only by the sound of Toby slurping his orange juice.

Alice found her voice. "I hope you don"t mind my asking, but would it be possible to see some of your paintings?"

Simon put his glass aside and got to his feet. "Of course. My pleasure. Please follow me."

He led them down the steps from the terrace and around to the back of the hall, where a purpose-built studio had been made from part of the large stable block. Inside the studio full-length curtains were pulled back from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Paintings of wildlife hung on the walls. The painting of a female nude stood on an easel. Simon gestured towards it.

"I"m interested in the human body. It"s a nice change from hawks and foxes, who don"t see why they should pose for the camera!" He glanced at Alice. "I"m always looking for models."

"You paint wildlife from photographs?" Will asked, looking at the painting of a swimming river otter.

"No other way, I"m afraid. I don"t paint stuffed creatures. I need to catch the essence of the animal, the life energy. It can take me months to get the photos I need. But nudes – well, that"s a different matter!"

Simon noticed that Toby seemed increasingly bored and restless. He sat him down at a large trestle table and gave him paper and pencil. "Draw something for me, Toby. Anything you like."

Toby seemed to warm to Simon. "Okay." He thought a moment, then got quietly to work, shielding the paper with his arm, so no one could sneak a look.

Alice stood before a painting of a goshawk. The bird was in the act of taking off from an autumnal oak branch. She looked up at it, admiringly. Simon joined her.

"I love these birds!" he enthused. "Raptors are such amazing specialists. They fascinated our ancestors. Even the wives of quite humble squires went hawking with merlin on forearm."

She stared at the painting. "The energy and power are incredible! Can I buy it?"

He thought a moment. "Why don"t you borrow it for now? Pay me later if you still like it."

They shared a glance of mutual approval. He wrapped the painting for her.

Will seemed completely eclipsed. Clenching his teeth, he summoned his resolve. "We do website design, Simon. If you ever want an upgrade just get in touch. No obligation to buy!"

"I might just do that." Simon offered a patronising smile.

Toby stopped drawing and put his pencil down. "Are we going for a walk, dad? You promised."

"Course we are. Right now." Will picked up his sturdy stick as proof.

They prepared to leave. Alice picked up her painting. "I"ll take this straight back. I know exactly where I"m going to hang it."

"It"s reassuring to know it"s going to a good home." Simon and Alice exchanged another approving look.

Will turned angrily away, pretending not to notice. "Toby and I"ll wander back through the fields. There"s a footpath I want to check out."

"I want to check it out too!" Toby said excitedly.

The Hardings waved their farewells. When they had gone, Simon looked at Toby"s drawing. He held it up to the October afternoon light, which streamed in shadowlessly through the north-facing windows.

It was a simple picture of a house, with two stick figures, clearly a male and female, walking away from it in opposite directions. A smaller figure stood alone in the doorway, looking out.

"You"re a perceptive kid, Toby," he said to himself. "And perhaps a sad one."

* * *

Will and Toby stood at the junction of an ancient lane and a footpath. Access to the footpath was by a stile, which was set into the laneside hedge. Will pored over his map while Toby hovered impatiently.

"This is the right place, Toby, I"m sure of it. The footpath"s shown on the map, but there"s no signpost and it looks very overgrown."

"Aren"t we going to go?" Toby sounded despondent.

"Course we are," Will replied with a determination he didn"t really feel. "It"s an adventure. Just have to knock the weeds down so we can get through."

He clambered over the stile, beat at the nettles on the other side with his stick, then reached back and hoisted Toby on to his shoulders.

"Hang on tight. We"re off!"

He battled his way through shoulder-high nettles and rosebay willowherb that had completely gone to seed, bashing the weeds aside until he had opened up a pathway. After fifteen metres he reached a small gate that led into an area of rough grazing and stopped in surprise. A little way off, a four-foot-high standing stone occupied the crest of a low mound. Beyond it, grass and bushes stretched away. Sight of the standing stone woke up his imagination.

"Made it!" he exclaimed. "The brave adventurers fought through the forest and arrived in the unknown land!"

He put Toby down and produced a plastic ball from his jacket. He kicked the ball and Toby raced after it. He consulted his map again.

"There"s a pond shown here, further up the field. It doesn"t seem to have a name. Let"s see if we can locate it."

Toby kicked the ball and ran after it. Will followed him.

"The adventurers set off in search of the great Kubla Khan"s lost city of Xanadu. It lies on the other side of a mysterious inland sea. Will they be able to find it?"

"Who"s Kubla Khan?" Toby asked.

"He was a great and powerful king of long ago. Way back, in a time when the world was a magical place."

"Will the king let us in?"

"You have to run round that stone three times for the gates of the city to open. You need special eyes to see it."

Toby abandoned the ball and ran round and round the standing stone. Will counted Toby"s circuits.

"One – two – three. That"s it! The gates will open!"

Toby staggered a little and fell down. "I feel really funny."

Will helped him up. "You"re just a bit dizzy with running round the stone. It"ll soon wear off."

Toby rubbed his eyes and blinked. "I"m a bit better now."

Will was enjoying his tale: "The exhausted explorers were near the end of their strength, but they battled on."

He kicked the ball a long way ahead until it vanished in the grass. Toby set off to run after it. But, as he ran, a strange aberration seemed to take place, a mysterious dislocation of the accepted space-time continuum.

One moment Toby was running after the ball, the next he had disappeared…