"Warrington, Freda - A Taste of Blood Wine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warrington Freda)

But Charlotte moved deeper into the cellar. It was a compulsion. The wintry cold penetrated her riding clothes and she hugged herself. She was afraid now, not of the darkness but of what it contained; layers and layers of age, lost lives and energies still weighing down the air with their echoes. Yet she had to push herself on through it. There was a vibration in the air, like the reverberation of a distant door clanging shut; yet no sound had preceded it, and it went on and on.
Again the voice above her. "Charlotte? Don't blame me if you break your leg!" A pause. Then, more anxious, "Oh, do come out. What are you doing?"
"Yes, I'm coming," she said. But she spoke so softly that Anne could not have heard her. Her fingers brushed a pillar that felt cold as a stalagmite. More vibrations seemed to be released into the air, deep beyond the range of hearing. Trails of goosepimples ran over her. "It's the same," she murmured. "You're still hereЕ "
A sudden circle of light splayed across the wall in front of her. Anne was coming down the steps with a lamp. And where the light fell she saw the cat again; just a shadow walking with nothing to cast it.
Charlotte felt Anne approaching, but she didn't look round. As the light brightened the cat vanished and the torch beam glistened on stacks of barrels and wine jars crusted with dirt.
"There isn't a cat, Anne," she said. "It's a ghost. I used to see it when we came here years ago. We always used to see the shadow but never the cat. I wanted to see if it was still here."
Then she looked round and found not Anne behind her, but Karl. She jumped violently and stepped away, heart pounding with shock.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said. The torchlight lit red sparks in his dark mass of hair, and his eyes were amber glass flecked with gold.
"You frightened the life out of me!" she exclaimed.
"I apologise. I thought you knew I was there." But his lips elongated with a trace of amusement and she thought he was mocking her. She held herself rigidly away from him. It was strange to see him in everyday clothes, a suit and a dark coat and hat, though he looked no less elegant. It was as though he would be at ease in anything he wore, like a slender hand in a black silk glove.
"Where's Anne?" she asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
"In the kitchen," he said, as if to say, It's all right, I have not murdered her. "David has been showing me round the estate and he invited me to see the house. We saw your horses outside. Anne seemed a little worried about you being down here and David had a torch, so I offered to bring it to you."
She became aware of voices upstairs and realised that it was Anne and David talking. She let go of the breath she had been holding. "Oh, I see." How do I escape?
"What was it you were saying about ghosts?" He offered her the torch and as she took it his fingertips brushed her palm, cool as satin. The touch sent shocks racing along her nerves. She recoiled inwardly. He raised more fear in her than any ghost. One thing saved her from appearing a complete stammering fool; she recalled what they were to be to each other. Colleagues in research.
"Did you see the cat?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then you can't tell me ghosts don't exist." She spoke sharply, not giving him another chance to laugh at her. She went to the far wall, picking her way through debris and scampering shadows.
"I was not going to. I believe that people see things."
"Have you thought what a ghost might be?" She spread her fingers on the wall, feeling the granular texture pricking her skin. "Perhaps not a soul who can't find rest, but an image we can call back. This stone is full of crystals. Some crystals have electrical and magnetic fields, and they vibrate in response to a stimulus. What if they could absorb certain wavelengths and produce them again when disturbedЧby the light through the door, for example? Every time the light falls in here, each individual crystal is stimulated to give back photons in a particular patternЧand we think we see a cat."
Karl had followed her. He was looking at her as if he had never seen her before, and he no longer looked remotely amused.
"A cat that has not hunted here for hundreds of years. It is an interesting theory," he said. "But why should the crystals pick up that particular image and not another? Why no nervous rats?"
She smiled. She had forgotten to be self-conscious. "Perhaps it wasn't a cat, just our eyes trying to make sense of a cloud of energy. Or it may be that certain events produce enough energy to register in the crystal structure. Or I might be talking nonsense, because ghosts are more than visual."
"Yes, they are emotional," said Karl. "Do you see others?"
"My mother; but it's different, I feel her more than see herЕ " she stopped. It was becoming too personal. "I mean, there is some reaction between the human mind and a certain place. Thoughts are only another kind of energy. Do you think it sounds completely unscientific?"
"I think," said Karl, "that we should go back upstairs." His expression brought her unease crawling back. Far from condescending to her, his eyes were intent upon her yet inwardly distracted, as if she had said something to disturb him. "I should like to talk about this, but it is very cold down here. You are shivering. Would you like my coat around your shoulders?"
***
Karl was used to womenЧmen, tooЧbeing drawn to him and becoming infatuated. He took it for granted, disregarded it. It was not him they were seeing but an outward shape, an arrangement of lines and planes and light that for some reason struck the eye as beauty. And more than that, they were touched by a vampire glamour, the subconscious recognition of something intangibly alien; the lure that brought his prey to him, even if he chose not to take advantage. The vivacity of Madeleine and Elizabeth was pleasant, mesmerising, yet at the same time he regarded the rapt attention they paid him with cynicism.
But Charlotte was different. She rarely met his eyes, she was abrupt and so withdrawn that her presence had so far made hardly any impression on him at all. She was a colourless creature, hiding within a shell, camouflaged against the rocks.
Yet when she said, "Have you thought what a ghost might be?" Karl began to notice her for the first time. She had the beguiling look of an actress on film; too great a contrast between the darkness that rimmed her large eyes and the pallor of her skin, as if she were permanently tired; an expression of solemn vulnerability. Her hair, a mixture of russet and gold, was not cut short but coiled at the nape of her neck, as if she were either unconscious of fashion or deliberately defiant of it.
And she was a paradox. She shied away from people, even those who offered no harm; yet she walked boldly through a dark place that would make even the most sensible people hesitate. She spoke of ghosts not with a shiver but with analytical, open curiosity.
Only once she smiled, there in the darkness, as if unaware of her surroundings. And the smile transformed her face into pearl and gold, as if she had walked into the sun.
He was in no position to dismiss the supernatural, even if he had no explanation. He had felt the heavy, stinging chill of the cellar and had consciously desired to leave it.
But Charlotte refused the offer of his coat around her shoulders. Like a delicate sea creature drawing in its tentacles she folded herself away, said nothing as they mounted the stairs. And in the kitchen she went straight to Anne and David, almost physically hiding behind them.
They talked about the ghostly cat but it was a joke now. Karl liked the way the English made a joke of everything. Then David pulled his watch out of his waistcoat and said, "Good Lord, is that the time? I have to drive Edward back to London; his family are expecting him at two. Annie, you and Charlotte carry on with your ride while I take Karl back to Parkland. I'll telephone later."
Anne pulled a face at him. "I hope I shall see more of you than this when we're married!"
David embraced her and whispered in her ear, making her laugh. Charlotte stood apart, self-contained, uneasy. There were few people who could not be put at ease by friendly questions, but when Karl went to her, all he drew from her were monosyllables. She had withdrawn the fragile tendrils of communication that she had extended in the cellar. Her eyes, her voice, her self; she would give him nothing. She was wishing herself elsewhere. Sadly he let her be and a moment later she was gone from him physically as well.
***
Edward was subdued but listless in the Bentley. His face was wax-grey with exhaustion and he chain-smoked nervously throughout the journey, compressing the cigarettes between shaking fingers.
"Those damned sedatives leave you with a hell of a hangover," he said, trying to make light of it. "It's a swine, having the morning after without the night before."
"I'm sorry you had such a rotten time," said David.
"No, I should apologise. Didn't mean to embarrass you like that, but I couldn'tЧcouldn'tЧ" He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his colourless forehead.
"It's all right, old man. It's all forgotten now." David took one hand off the wheel and patted Edward's shoulder. "But I do think you should see your doctor as soon as you get home. In fact I'm going to make sure you do."
"There's no need."
"I insist, I'm afraid."
"I don't need the bloody head-doctor, damn you!" Edward sighed and slumped back in his seat. "Sorry. Sorry."
"I'm doing it for purely selfish reasons," David said, pretending to be off-hand. "I need you fit to start work with me as soon as possible. There's a hell of a lot of work to do on that old house, never mind taking over the estate."
"I know that. I won't let you down." Edward lit a new cigarette, wound down the window and let the dead stub tumble away on the wind. "I'm not mad, David."
"I know that."
"But you don't! You're just like all the others, 'Poor Edward, such a tragedy, be nice to him because he was such a hero but now he's quite barmy.' You don't understand."
"What don't I understand?"