Guardians Of The Haunted Moor (3 page)

“
Elowen’s gone into labour.”

“
Oh. Oh, my dear boys.” She lit up like a Christmas tree, dead
husband or no dead husband. “Gideon, is your car
outside?”

“
Yes, but—”

“
Stop
fussing
over me, Jennifer! Fetch me my coat and scarf.”

The
doctor had arrived. He and Mrs Harle were unbuttoning enough of old
Pastor Frayne’s clothing to perform the last checks. Both looked
up, equally scandalised. “Elizabeth,” Mrs Harle said in horror.
“You can’t possibly go rushing off. You’ve had a great shock, and
your husband—”

“
My husband is dead,” the old lady cut her off. “I did all I
could all my life for him, but he’s gone. Now my granddaughter is
coming, and she has one of my names. Jennifer, please help me to
the door.”

Gideon
paused by his father’s chair. He didn’t know how to take leave of
him, how to do it respectfully, with this bustle of life in the
room and his heart reaching out for the future. He wished he had
the impulse of love to instruct him. But the pastor’s policy of
distancing his children had worked too well, at least on his
younger son. “Sorry,” he whispered, then decided his apologies were
better addressed to the living. “Sorry, Mrs Harle. I know we’re
dropping you in it. I’ll be at Trelowarren—you’ve got my
number.”

She
tried for a reproving look but spoiled it with a grin. “Is this it,
then? This baby I’ve heard so much about?”

“
Yes. This is it.”

“
Well, go on with you, then. The undertaker’s coming, and all
your father’s arrangements are in place. Is that all right with
you, doctor?”

“
Yes, yes.” The Roselands GP tucked his stethoscope back into
his bag. “Old chap’s gone, all right. I’ll note his time of death
as ten past five.”

There was a bottleneck in the corridor. Mrs Frayne’s carer was
muffling her in as many layers as she could carry, and some of her
friends had emerged from their rooms at the sight of the doctor’s
car and were standing around in bewilderment, unsure whether to
offer condolences or congratulations. Gideon thought about issuing
a sergeant’s bark—
move along! Nothing to
see here!
—then heard the echo of the
doctor’s voice in his head. Ten past five. Not a precise time, but
good enough for an unsuspicious death. Good enough as an answer to
his patient other half, who’d been here making small talk with the
in-laws for hours... “Lee,” he said softly, drawing him aside. “Why
did you come here today? Did you know?”

“
No, but I think your father did.”

“
He died just after you asked me the time, didn’t
he?”

“
Yes. Eleven minutes past five.” Lee met his eyes across the
narrow corridor. “It’s okay, love. Whatever’s scaring you, just
ask.”

Gideon
could. From the day he’d met Lee Tyack, he’d told him his
fears—sometimes without meaning to, sometimes in the painful relief
of exposing an old wound. “That time... It’s a year to the minute
since old man Fisher died next door.”

“
Too much of a coincidence, right?”

“
Yes, although living with you has raised my threshold for
weird. And I’m just afraid that Tamsyn deciding to arrive now...”
He paused. Lee had taught him not to fear alternative views of
reality, but still he thought of himself as the prosaic one in
their relationship, the man with his feet on the ground. “That
doesn’t have anything to do with the pastor, does it? Or
Fisher?”

“
Oh, God, no. None of these old men’s dark spirits can touch
Tamsyn. Listen, Gid—your dad was a gate-keeper, just like mine. The
veil can get thin around the anniversary of a death, especially at
solstice. He was just keeping the watch.”

Gideon’s
throat tightened. He couldn’t grieve any more than his mother
could, but Lee’s words shone a light on what had been best in the
old man—his courage, the unflinching rectitude that had kept him at
his station until the threat was gone. He took Lee’s outstretched
hand. The roadblock in the corridor was clearing at last, Jennifer
opening the outside door to let in a wash of wintry seaside air.
“Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go get our solstice baby. But I’m
warning you, if she’s born feet-first with eyebrows that meet in
the middle, I’m taking her straight to the zoo.”

***

The
traffic on the A39 began to congeal as the rush hour got underway.
By the time Gideon had negotiated the queue as far as Treluswell,
he was down to fifteen miles an hour, trying not to rev too hard
into the gaps as the drivers ahead of him made their blind-faith
dash into the double roundabout. He’d never been so tempted to slap
on his lights and his siren, but that was strictly forbidden
off-duty. He tried one of Lee’s calming breaths, drummed his
fingers on the wheel. “All right in the back there, Ma?”

“
Yes, dear. Although we’re going very slowly.”

“
I know.”

“
I think you’ll need to get a different car. This one’s very
high. I won’t be able to get into it much longer, especially if I’m
carrying Tamsyn Elizabeth.”

“
I’ll get you both a set of little steps made.”

“
And I’m not sure Lee’s Escort will be suitable, either. They
were saying on
Super Drive
that other makes do much better in terms of child
safety.”

“
You’ve been watching
Super
Drive
?”

“
Gid, I think we’re gonna be late.”

Gideon
shot Lee an anxious glance. He was bolt upright in the passenger
seat, staring through the windshield at the rain-blossomed brake
lights ahead, and Gideon feared his efforts to block Elowen’s
labour pains weren’t meeting with complete success. “It’s okay.
I’ll hang a left at the roundabout, take us over by the back
roads.”

“
Isn’t that a longer route?”

“
Ten minutes or so. Much quicker in this traffic.”

“
Okay. Sorry. I’m making a fuss.”

Gideon
took a read of the emotional pressure building up in the Rover.
Between Lee and his ma, he was surprised the windows hadn’t blown
out. “Not by comparison with that old lady in the back seat. She
just told me I had to buy two new cars.”

“
Well, maybe we
should
get rid of the Escort. I saw that episode
of
Super Drive
as
well. Maybe we should...” He faded out, tugging at the seat belt
across his chest. “Shit. Did Zeke say how far along Elowen was? How
far she’s dilated?”

“
Not really his area of expertise.” Gideon smiled wryly,
flicking on his indicator and trying to edge across into the
left-hand lane. “Not that it’s ours either, technically,
but...”

“
It bloody will be when he’s having one of his own.” Lee wound
down his window, leaned out and waved his arm at the truck-driver
refusing to give way. “Back up, you fucking idiot!” He caught
Gideon’s look of amazement. “Sorry! Sorry, Mrs Frayne. I just don’t
want our experience of being parents to start with us missing the
birth. I know we’ve jumped through all these checks and social
worker’s hoops, but what if we miss it, and they decide we’re
not—”

“
Okay. Go ahead.”

“
What?”

“
The blues and the twos. Hit ’em.”

“
Are you serious?”

“
Never more so. It’s that button there, and that
switch.”

The old
two-tone siren was a wail these days, but the effects were the
same. The Rover came to brilliant, noisy life. The guy in the truck
decided to quit blocking the lane. Up ahead, drivers began to inch
their cars aside to clear a path. Lee sat back to watch these
effects, suddenly less of an anxious parent-to-be than an excited
ten year old. Gideon chuckled, finally getting out of second gear
and into the roundabout. “Better?”

“
I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“
You should’ve said. We could’ve taken her round the village at
home, chased Darren Prowse and his mates.”

“
It’s for emergencies only, though, isn’t it? For when people
really need help, not when some copper’s just late for his
tea.”

“
How do you think I always get home on time?” Gideon turned
right onto the narrow back road that would lead them through fields
and woodland to Truro. He gunned the Rover’s engine in
satisfaction. “Besides, if this doesn’t qualify as an emergency, I
don’t know what does.”

***

Ezekiel
was stalking the waiting room outside the maternity ward. His
fiancée had done much towards humanising him, but under pressure he
sometimes resumed his heron-like posture, hunching up his shoulders
against the onslaught of the modern world. He was running his
father’s Methodist ministry full-time now, and tonight would have
suited clerical black rather than the smart shirt and trousers
Eleanor had picked out for him. “Gideon,” he said, as soon as the
doors swished open to admit his brother, Lee immediately behind him
with the old lady clinging to his arm. “Elowen is fine. The nurses
believe she’ll be in labour for some hours yet. She can have
visitors, but only two at a time.” He put out a hand in warning.
“And Michel Duroy is in there now.”

Gideon
skidded to a halt. Zeke was growing increasingly tolerant of his
unconventional family, which Gideon and Lee were about to make
weirder still by adopting Lee’s niece as their own child. He was
softening up in the pulpit as well, disappointing his congregation
with lack of hellfire. Gideon was grateful that his first words had
been the ones he and Lee had needed to hear, not a reproach for
arriving like a blue-lit avalanche or for dragging Mrs Frayne out
with them on such a night. He clearly still had something on his
mind, though—something bigger than even than Michel Duroy. “Okay,”
Gideon said, exchanging a glance with Lee. “Wow, he travelled fast.
You go on in, love—Ma and I will see Elowen when you’re
done.”

“
No. I’ll wait and go in with you.”

“
Lee, you’re gonna explode if you have to wait one more minute
to see what’s going on in that room.” Gently Gideon detached his
mother’s death-grip. “Let the man have his arm back, Ma. You come
and sit down over here. Look, they’ve got some car magazines for
you.” With a pang, he watched Lee dash off down the corridor. Then
he braced up and turned to face his brother. “Sorry you got called
out before we did.”

“
That’s fine. I said I was happy to come, didn’t I?”

“
Yeah, you did. So what’s wrong?”

“
The undertaker phoned me, Gideon.”

It was a rare sensation—that inward drop, like a lead weight
into water. Cold pallor followed by a painful blush. “Oh,
fuck
.”

“
Is no situation so sacred that your first reaction will not be
to swear?”

“
Shit! I’m so, so sorry.” Gideon was glad he’d left his cap in
the Rover. He’d have knocked it halfway across the room with the
mortified clutch of his brow. “You called me barely a minute after
he’d gone, and...”

“
And I told you about Elowen. I understand, although it was
rather a large omission. That’s not what I want to talk to you
about. Come and sit down.”

Gideon
followed him to a pair of seats just out of Ma Frayne’s earshot. He
was trying earnestly to think of anything he might have done that
could possibly be worse than forgetting to tell his brother that
his father had died. “Seriously, Zeke. Forgive me. You must be
gutted.”

“
Must I? Why? I modelled myself on him because he was all I
had. That doesn’t mean he was good, or that I was any good by the
time I’d... finished my modelling.” Before Gideon could absorb this
startling pronouncement, Zeke had caught his arm and drawn him down
to sit beside him. “Were you expecting Michel?”

“
Michel? Not specifically, no. At least, we knew he was coming
to visit at some point to talk to Elowen about work,
but...”

“
He hadn’t arranged to be here for the birth.”

“
No.” Unease stirred in Gideon’s gut. “It’s nice that he’s
gonna be around for it, though—isn’t it?”

“
Yes. Commendable, even, since he’s the father of the
child.”

Gideon pressed his lips together. He was starting to learn
that Ezekiel usually meant well, but his principles had been
grating off Gideon since they were children. “The
biological
father. That’s
an accident of DNA. Lee and I will be Tamsyn’s—”

“
I’m not disputing that. I wanted to ask if you’d had the
adoption papers formally drawn up.”

Gideon
flinched. He and Lee had learned to handle their rare disagreements
with grace and love over the last six months. Their quarrels had
been trivial, the day-to-day frictions of newlyweds settling down
for the long haul—except for one point of profound moral dispute,
which Gideon had dealt with by failing to deal with it at all.
Elowen was Lee’s sister. Gideon had only just met her, so who was
he to lay down terms? “We were waiting,” he said gruffly. “We
thought it was best for Elowen to make the first move.”