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Ducking away from the noise, she covered her head with her arms, trying to protect herself from the frenzy of birds about to Hitchcock her, but the noise stopped as unexpectedly as it had begun.
Tentatively, she lowered her hands to see what had happened. There was nothing to see. Only an unnatural stillness that shrouded her, as she stood alone in the lane.
With some caution, she peered into the woods, expecting to find the cause of the disturbance. Nothing. No sign of movement, no sound of wings or screaming, or any of the otherodd sensations she’d just experienced. What the hell had just happened?
Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to hang around for a repeat performance.
Grabbing the handle of her suitcase, she jerked it hard and stumbled onto the road, trying to pick up pace in a bid to get away, but the sound of footsteps stopped her. She spun around, her eyes searching the darkness.
The footsteps neared, accompanied by the sound of ragged breathing. Panic raced through her. Her heart began thumping so hard she could feel it in her teeth. Whoever it was, they were getting closer, advancing as she stood alone in the lane, unprotected and unarmed. Surely she wasn’t about to be mugged for a second time?
The distant sound of an approaching vehicle registered with her brain a few moments before a burst of light hurtled around the bend, aiming right at her. Once again, she found herself covering her head with her arms, shielding herself from the blinding glare.
Silhouetted against the shaft of light coming towards her was a man. A man not of this era, but from centuries past: a sword dragging by his side, his demeanour slumped as he staggered towards her, his red frock-coat lit up in the darkness.
She wasn’t sure if her scream was audible – the rushing in her ears drowned out any sound, but as the blood drained from her head, she felt herself falling and hit the ground with an almighty thud.
Time seemed to slow as she drifted into a state of semi-consciousness, her body aching from the fall, her mind registering the sound of voices and a car door slamming.
She had no idea how long she lay there shivering, but the next thing she knew, a warm hand was patting her cheek. ‘Kate…? Kate, can you hear me?’
Blinking, she opened her eyes to find Calvin Johnson looking down at her. Of course it was him – why was she even surprised?
She’d hoped to regain some of her lost dignity on this trip, and present herself as a competent and level-headed professional, someone reliable and sane, whom he could entrust with his uncle’s estate. Instead, she was once again upended, a quivering wreck of a woman with a wet bottom and shaking like a malfunctioning washing machine.
Mortification washed over her. ‘I’m not dead, then?’
He bit his lower lip. ‘No, not dead. Are you hurt?’
Good question. Was she? She didn’t think so. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
She wasn’t about to admit she had a bruised bum; she was embarrassed enough as it was. ‘I’m not hurt, just… wet.’ Her jeans were soaked through.
‘Can you stand up?’ He positioned himself behind her and gently eased her up. ‘Lean on me,’ he said, holding her steady when she wobbled. ‘That’s it. You okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision, and then she remembered what had just happened. She looked around, but there was no sign of the strange-looking man. Had she imagined it? She rubbed her eyes, wondering if hallucinating was the latest affliction to add to her list of mental health issues.
Calvin had a concerned expression on his face. ‘Sorry I wasn’t at the station to meet you. One of the care home residents had gone missing, and I had to go and find him.’
Her disgruntlement softened a little. ‘That’s okay. I probably should’ve waited at the station and not wandered off, but my phone died and I had no way of contacting you.’
He reached out and removed a twig from her hair. It was a strangely intimate gesture and she wasn’t sure whether it was welcome, but he just seemed to be checking she was okay. ‘Iwondered why you weren’t answering your phone. I tried calling to let you know I’d be late.’
She moved away from his touch and removed the rest of the debris herself, trying to regain some composure. ‘Did you find the man?’
‘I did.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘He’s going to have a stinking hangover in the morning.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s your luggage?’
As she pointed in the direction of her battered suitcase, a gust of wind whipped through the trees, making the branches rustle. Involuntarily, she jerked away from the noise.
Calvin caught her arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘N… nothing,’ she said, glancing into the woods, half-expecting to see another apparition, or whatever it was she’d just seen. ‘I… I’m fine.’
‘Did something spook you?’ He sounded concerned.
Forcing a smile, she turned to face him. ‘Of course not. I’m fine, really.’ What was she supposed to say?The woods screamed at me and then the Scarlet Pimpernel appeared. She wouldn’t sound delusional at all. ‘I’m not used to the quiet, that’s all. In London everything is masked by traffic noise. Here you can hear everything, even birds’ wings flapping. It’s strange.’
