Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Your grandmother turned her back on tradition before you were born,” Hans told me, “but that didn’t stop her using her skills. It never has done. She can deny them all she likes, but it makes no difference. She exploits them every day of her life.”

“What skills?”

Hans was shaking his head as he spoke. His indignation obvious.

“She’s a witch of the highest level, through and through. She’s an expert mind reader and in tune with energies of all kinds, and believe me, she always takes advantage of them. She can put it down to common sense and intuition all she likes, but she fools no one. She knows far more than she should about everyone she meets. She’s the epitome of holier than thou, in godawful form. It’s tragic. Truly.”

I thought of Grandma, and the way she glared at me when I was growing up, always whispering in Mum’s ear and cussing me for being a stupid girl. She was judgmental and scathing, I’d always known that.

I was scared of her, like so many people were. She was a gossiper of secrets and seemed to know everything about everyone, whispering and sneering whenever she passed them in the street.

Georgina White is a slut whore who’s been sleeping with David Lewis and Raymond Jones at the same time. Phillip Taylor is cheating everyone in the community with his fake car deals and worthless warranties. Penny MacGregor is having lustful thoughts about Karen’s husband, and he’s fantasising about her.

Evil!

Disgusting!

Sinners!

I’d put her down as being in touch with everyone in a tiny village community, but maybe it was more than that.

“It’s definitely more than that,” Hans said. “She knows everything and uses it to her own self-inflated advantage. Her ego blew to sky high proportions from when she was tiny. She used her talents for manipulating the other children in the school playground, lording herself over them, and then she carried on. She calls it Godly and knowing sinners, I call it being cunning and self-important. Being a bully.”

He was so angry as he spoke about her. Ashamed.

“Yes, I’m ashamed,” he said. “She was from such a decent background of people using their talents and empathy for goodwill, but she dismissed them as belonging to the dark side, whereas she’s the one who embraced the sins.”

“What sins?”

He counted on his fingers. “Pride, greed, wrath, and envy. She hasn’t done quite so well on sloth, lust or gluttony, admittedly, but there is still time.”

“Grandma’s a nasty cow, then. I always knew that much. But what has that got to do with my father?”

“Your mother fell in love with him,” Hans said. “He was visiting Garway for the masonic traditions, and she saw him up on Garway hill. There was an instant connection. The kind that sweeps people off their feet, as you well know.”

“Fated mates, but mortals?”

“Yes. Soulmates. The same thing, without the length of time of the undead. He knew who she was at heart. That’s the woman he fell in love with.”

“And they truly loved each other?”

He nodded. “For a short while, at least. It would have lasted an awful lot longer without the bitch of the Blakeleys cursing them from the off.”

I could hardly imagine my mum being with anyone. The idea of her being in love with an occultist just didn’t fit my idea of the puzzle.

“Your mother didn’t want to fall in love with your father,” Hans said. “Your grandmother has been in control of her since the day she pushed her from her womb, just as she likes to be in control of everything.”

That made sense to me. Grandma was always waiting in the wings to whisper her opinions to Mum. And Mum would agree with her, always singing from the same hymn book.

“Yes,” Hans continued. “Because that’s how your grandmother wanted it. And your mother allowed it, until your father came along.”

I felt a horrible rush of resentment at the thought of my father being so perfect when he hadn’t been a part of my life.

“How come he left us if he’s such an incredible occultist? Wouldn’t he just tell Grandma to fuck off and take Mum away from her?”

“And then would come the war,” Hans said. “The war of spirit, mind and body. And ultimate sacrifice. Your father wasn’t as confident then. He wasn’t as capable.”

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s a sad one to understand, little one. People wage wars inside themselves all the time, it’s a battle we all continually face. But your mother was a sensitive one, easily influenced by the grip of the woman who raised her. She’s been on the losing side of the battle from the start. And the same would have been true of your father.”

“She was in love with him, though,” I countered. “Wouldn’t that have been enough to fight any battle? I’d fight any battle for you.”

“Another beautiful sentiment.” Hans raised my hand and kissed it. “But your mother was already firmly in the grip of her influence. Your mother had sinned by then, by having sex with your father, and your grandmother told her so constantly. She believed you’d be born cursed and hellish, possessed by demons, and when you arrived as a tiny little child it was clear you had gifts of the Devil, as your grandmother called them. They could see the magic in your pretty blue eyes.”

I remembered the way she’d judged me and told me off for everything I did. Every little fantasy I played out or story I made up. She’d tell me I was a bad little girl.

Mum had watched. Mum had listened. Mum had believed her, and agreed with her, and told me I was a stupid, bad little girl along with her.

But maybe Mum had been afraid to show that true side of herself her whole life, and scared for me to show it too?

“Your father tried to reason with your grandmother and keep it civil once he knew for certain your mum was expecting a baby,” Hans said. “But he saw the heartbreak as your mother nursed you in her womb, praying she wasn’t carrying a demon child. Standing up to your grandmother would have waged a war beyond all measure. She knew every one of his secrets. She knew about his traditions and connections with the occult, and she would have used them against him. She would have turned faction members against faction members, and stirred up lies and disgusting rumours, and your mother would have been at the heart of it, pulled in all directions and tearing her soul apart.”

I flinched at the thought and Hans sighed.

“And she would have been tearing your soul apart along with it. Your grandmother would never have let your father take custody of you.”

“Take custody of me?”

“Yes. Because that’s what it would have come to. She’d have destroyed your mother’s life for the sake of fighting your demon father.”

“But how could she have taken custody of me? Why would she need to?”

Hans didn’t answer me.

It all sounded so harsh and so tragic, like everything else in my family line. An instinctive lump of tears sprung up in my throat. I tried to imagine him. My father. I wondered what he would look like, sound like, be like. Would I like him? Was he a great man, like Hans said he was?

“Your father was great enough that your mother slept with him out of wedlock, because that’s what her heart urged her to do,” Hans said. “Despite your grandmother’s influence.”

I took a big slug of my merlot.

“Why did he let her push him away? I just don’t get it. He loved her, she loved him. They had me! Wasn’t that enough? What could have stood in their way apart from Grandma being a manipulative, callous bitch to them?”

“This isn’t my place to say,” Hans said, but I shook my head.

“Don’t fob me off! What was he so afraid of? What could she have used against him that was so powerful? And what could she have used against Mum?!”

Hans got to his feet, pacing up and down and rubbing his temples.

“Your steak is getting cold,” he said.

I pushed my plate away. “I don’t want fucking steak, Hans. I want answers. What could the old bitch have used against my mother? Tell me!”

“Damnit,” he said, glaring at me. “I shouldn’t be the one doing this.”

My voice got louder. “You need to! I need to know!”

“Fucking hell,” Hans said, and cursed under his breath. “I have Edwin to thank for this lovely exchange, and putting you through another round of soul-battering.”

“Tell me,” I insisted. “Seriously, I’ve been soul-battered plenty enough. Another round of what the fuck isn’t going to break me now.”

He didn’t look so sure. It gave me a fresh set of fucking shivers, and I felt myself tuning in to him.

What did my mother do?What could Grandma hold against her? What could she hold over my father?

Hans shook his head. “Stop.”

But why should I stop? This was my family line, and my history, and the secrets of my past. I was a witch, and a psychic and a damn ghost whisperer from a long line of the same. My mother was a witch, under the thumb of my grandmother who was denying being one, and my father was an occultist wizard of wizards or some crazy shit, and I was spinning in all directions, trying to make fucking sense of it.

So I would do.

I would make sense of it.

I summoned all my strength and counted on all the skills I had in my subconscious, and I stared Hans right in the eye.

“Stop,” he said again, his stare fierce.

“No,” I said. “I won’t stop. I want the answers. I won’t be like my mother anymore and back down whenever I’m told to. I’m done with that shit.”

“Fine, yes, that’s all very well,” Hans said. “But it’s not me who should be giving you the answers. I’m not the one who’s been waiting to share them for decades, sweetheart.”

I must have looked puzzled.

“Who is, then? My father? Are you going to call him up and invite him over? Hey, fancy a meet up with the daughter who didn’t even know your name until a few minutes ago?”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” my lover said, but there was a hint of affection in it. “You’re really growing stronger, aren’t you? It’s lovely to see.”

“I’m growing stronger thanks to you, Hans. Don’t stop now. Tell me the truth.”

“The truth,” he said, resting his hands on the table, his eyes looking into my soul, “sometimes the truth can be too much to bear.”

“Fuck that,” I said, “just tell me.”

He sighed. “Very well…”

I felt so self-assured and ready for it, but holy fuck, I wasn’t.

“Your mother is a murderer,” he said. “Or so your grandmother would have her believe.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Just, what?! What the fuck? My mother is a murderer? No. Just NO.”

“It’s true, Katherine,” Hans said. “The grand family showdown around your birth left someone else very much in the dirt. Literally.”

“Who?!”

Hans offered me a hand. “Come. Let me show you. Visions speak louder than words.”

My thoughts were rattling. My mother was a murderer? How the hell could that be?

I stepped along with Hans, following him out into the grand hallway and through a door at the side. We went through a long corridor, and he opened another door, and another to follow. We climbed down a set of stairs, and turned off into another. It was as though we were in a maze, getting dustier and mustier, heading down and down, until we were in a cellar.

Hans flicked on a low glowing light and pulled a lantern down from the shelf. He looked at the wick and the flame lit right up.

“Here we go,” he said, and opened a heavy, battered door to reveal a dark tunnel. “This is the way to the church tomb. Even now, the archaeologists haven’t been able to find it. It’s hidden deep under the depths of the Garway spring.”

My heart pounded as I stepped into the tunnel to join him. I remembered his tale of being stuck in the tomb when poor Mary was drowned up above him.

We had quite a long trek through the damp depths of the passageway before another bolted door appeared before us. It echoed when Hans opened it, and I leapt back as the glow of the lantern lit up the outlines of Knights Templar tombs. So many grand graves, covered in cobwebs. He pointed to one in the far corner, then gestured me along with him.

“This one was mine.”

It looked so cold in there as he shunted the top stone to the side, even though it was lined with purple silk.

“You slept in here?”

“Yes. For a very long time. Until I could risk being at Edwin’s. People were very suspicious.”

It didn’t matter how in awe I was of the surroundings and the snapshot of Hans’ heritage – I couldn’t let him distract me. He knew it.

“I’m coming to the truth of your past,” he told me. “Don’t worry.”

He guided me to the opposite side of the chamber, and there was yet another door and another tunnel, but this one had tiny muddy steps leading upwards, not downwards. Sharp and steep.

“Be careful not to slip,” Hans said, keeping a firm grip on my hand as he led the way.

All the years I’d been a girl spending time around Garway church felt like they meant nothing as we ascended. I didn’t know this place at all.

But it wasn’t the church itself we climbed up into via the staircase, it was the tower. Disused and abandoned, and now nothing more than a spectacle of times gone by.

Hans moved to the side so I could embrace the location as the cold night wind hit us. I could feel the open sky up above.

“Carry on,” he told me. “There’s someone up here you need to speak to.”

“Up here? On the turrets of the tower in the middle of the night? Are you serious?”

He tipped my face to his and landed a kiss on my lips.

“Yes. They’ve been here for years. A permanent feature since you were just a tiny baby in your mother’s arms.”

I got a prickle of otherworldly senses, like I had done seeing George and Margaret appearing at Regency.

“A ghost?” I asked.

Hans nodded. “Yes, a ghost.”

A round of palpitations hit me as I walked up the stone steps ahead of Hans. The stairs were broken, and crumbling. Mossy underfoot.

I felt someone’s presence ahead of us as we reached the top. I heard them breathing before they came into view, and when I saw a man sitting there, lonely, I got a flood of sympathy. And recognition. Love.

But Hans couldn’t see him. He looked around blankly.

“He’s here, yes?” my lover asked me.

“There’s a man here, yeah.”

With that the man stared over at me. He was broken looking, with small, pained eyes and an expression of pure shock as he saw me there.

Hans stood next to me, still looking around for signs of the invisible person.

“He’s over here,” I said, pointing to the figure.

Hans turned to face the ghost.

“Ah, excellent,” he said. “Katherine, meet your grandfather. And Joseph, hello to you. Your introduction has been long overdue.”