Down in Yon Forest Page 7

  He sat beside her and picked up the clipping from the floor. He pointed to the picture. “You said that’s you.”

  “It is me. But it makes no sense. According to the article my father killed my mother and all the children before burning the cottage. It says I was there, but I don’t remember. Besides, Annabelle and I aren’t dead…” She broke off and shoved her hands through her hair. “You said music unlocks memories. That piece of music in Brussels triggered something. It did every time I played it. ”

  He ran a hand down her arm. “The question is, do you want to remember?”

  “I have to. I only remember a few bits here and there. This says I had an older brother. I don’t remember him. There’s a whole chunk of my life missing.”

  She pointed to the article. “It says here that Dad was found crouching over the bodies of Mum and Gretchen covered in blood. The little girls, who must have been me and Annabelle, were in the closet. It says we died.” She pushed up her leggings. “I have this scar. Grannie always said I fell off a bike when I was seven, but this one always struck me as more of a bite than a fall.”

  She pushed up her sleeve, showing the circular mark just visible. “I know the child in the photo is me. Grannie must have old school photos somewhere to prove it.”

  Jeremiah winced. Seeing the traces of old wounds made the reality hit home. “I believe you. Play the piece from Brussels,” he said quietly. “See if it helps you remember.”

  Meredith took the violin from the case Wolfe had left and tuned it. She tightened the bow. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t. Who wrote it?”

  “Sergei Prokofiev.” Meredith closed her eyes and moved the bow over the strings.

  Jeremiah leaned back as she played. He knew the piece well. Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.”

  8

  Meredith ran through the clearing full of wild flowers towards the cottage in the woods. Annabelle was winning, as always. Just before the front gate, Annabelle lay down on the grass and picked a buttercup. Meredith lay beside her. “I don’t want you to go, Belle.”

  “Mum says it will be fun.” Annabelle looked up at the sky.

  “And stop trying to be grown up by calling her Mum rather than Mummy.”

  “But I am grown up. Boarding school is only for grown up kids. I’ll be home at Christmas and in the other holidays. Not like I’m going away forever. We can write.”

  “Not the same.” Meredith pouted. Her best friend and sister was going away and no one but her cared. It wasn’t fair. “Sides, I can’t write as good as you. You’re almost ten. I'm only seven. If you go, it’s just going to be me and that’s boring. Peter is too grown up to play with little girlies.”

  “Tell you what; I’ll leave my invisible dog with you.”

  “Not the same. I want you to stay.”

  “You’ll soon be nine. We can go together then.”

  “I like living in Paradise. I’m going to stay here forever and ever.” She turned onto her front, waving her legs in the air behind her.

  Blue eyes watched her from the trees. Sometimes Annabelle’s invisible dog was a little too real for her liking.

  ****

  The bow faltered. Meredith opened her eyes.

  “What is it?” Jeremiah asked.

  She pointed to the picture. “We used to live there. Annabelle went to boarding school when I was seven. I had a brother called Peter, but he would never play with us. I remember playing in the clearing in front of the cottage. There was something in the woods watching us. Annabelle said it was her invisible dog, but either I was crazy and still am, or I really did see blue glowing eyes watching us.” She closed her eyes, beginning to play again.

  ****

  This time she was alone, playing hopscotch in the garden on the paving stone path that led to the wood shed. She’d never been allowed in there. Sometimes, when no one was looking, she’d try the door, or peek through the grimy windows, but she wasn’t quite able to see anything that would make the locks worth it. Peter always said it was his special place—no girls allowed.

  “Meredith?”

  She turned, to see Daddy standing in the doorway. He looked happy. He hadn’t looked that way in a while.

  “Come inside and meet your sister.”

  “Is Belle home?”

  Daddy held out a hand. “Not until the weekend. Then she’ll be home for Christmas. You have a brand new sister waiting to meet you.”

  Meredith took his hand and let him lead her upstairs to his bedroom at the front of the cottage.

  Mummy sat in bed, with a nurse fussing around her. A tiny baby lay in her arms. “Meredith, this is Gretchen. Your new sister.”

  ****

  Jeremiah watched Meredith with increasing concern. Her playing faltered, picked up and then stopped. He reached out and touched her gently. “Meredith?”

  She shuddered. “This piece of music…”

  He nodded slowly, knowing exactly what memories it had released.

  Meredith raised the bow. “I have to finish. I have to know.”

  He sat, seeing the glazed look in her eyes become haunted as memories surfaced.

  ****

  Meredith stood looking out of the window for Granny and Gramps who were bringing Annabelle home for the Christmas holidays. Mum had closed it to keep out the chill, but Meredith liked it open and she wanted to play outside. She wasn’t allowed to play out in the cold. Unlike Peter who was in his shed.

  It wasn’t fair. Peter was outside and she had to stay in. She climbed onto a chair and opened the window. A cold breeze ruffled her hair, but she could smell the pine trees and wanted to go and see if the holly had berries on it yet. The wind chime above her bed rang quietly.

  Meredith ran downstairs and tried to open the back door. It was locked. She dragged the stool across and reached for the key from its hook. She unlocked the door and ran outside into the winter sunshine, down the garden and into the clearing. It was nearly Christmas, and she sang her favorite carol.

  “Down in yon forest there stands a hall; the bells of Paradise I heard them ring…”

  She could hear Mummy calling, but she didn’t answer. “It's covered all over with purple and pall, and I love my Lord Jesus above anything.”

  Then, screams filled the air, followed by a gunshot. She jumped up and ran to the cottage. Snarling and screaming filled the air.

  She ran into the lounge. Mummy was on the floor and she was hurt. Meredith hid in the closet and peered through the keyhole.

  Silver eyes glinted and teeth snarled.

  ****

  Meredith stopped playing, the bow falling from her hands. “Nooooo…”

  Jeremiah took the violin and laid it on the table before gathering her in his arms.

  Panic filled her, breathing grew hard. “I…can’t….”

  Jeremiah didn’t let go, using his presence and gentle touch to calm and reassure her. “Then don’t. Just breathe, Meredith, nice and slow. You’re safe now.”

  “It’s covered all over with scarlet so red, and I love my Lord Jesus above anything,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The song, that’s how it goes. I was singing it in the clearing. Then, there was screaming and blood and…”

  “You’re safe now,” he repeated. “Let me get you some juice or some tea.”

  She caught her breath and stiffened. “He said that.”

  “Who did?” he asked, praying desperately for the right words to answer the questions he knew were forthcoming.

  “There was a man. He tried to coax me out from the closet.”

  ****

  Brown eyes crinkled, the extended hand beckoning to her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Meredith.”

  “Meredith. That’s a pretty name. You’re safe now.”

  She shook her head. Her leg hurt and her wrist hurt and there was blood everywhere. She pulled her knees tighter, trying to make herself invisible. “It’s
still out there.”

  “It’s gone, Meredith. I promise. Would you like a drink? I have some juice.”

  ****

  “He, he looked like you.” Meredith looked at Jeremiah. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

  “It would have been my dad. He was a ranger here in Paradise back then. He worked alongside your father.”

  She narrowed her eyes, pulling away from him, and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “You knew my father?” she asked. “All this time you knew and you said nothing?”

  “I couldn’t.” Jeremiah bit his lip. “You had no recollection of events, and I wasn’t allowed to say anything. The doctors warned your grandparents years ago that forcing your memory would do more harm than good. However, when you came back, I was told to watch over you when you were in the forest, protect you.”

  “Kissing me and asking me out on a date is protecting me?” She pushed to her feet, hurt replacing the grief. Her voice rose. “I thought you cared about me. But instead I’m your job. The Christmas Ball…did you arrange that or—?”

  “Meredith. Stop, please. Let me explain.” He waited until she stopped pacing. “Ty bought the tickets and railroaded me into going to the ball. I wasn’t meant to fall for you. It would have made things easier if I hadn’t. I could have stayed objective. But I did. I can’t help that I love you already.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. Had he said “love”? She let him take her hands in his own. “So fill in the blanks for me, Jeremiah.”

  “Dad never spoke of what happened. All I know is what I read in the newspaper and, later, in the official report.”

  She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember those last few moments, to make sense of the images she’d seen. “There was a gunshot, but I’m not sure who fired because I was outside. I ran into the cottage. Dad and Peter were arguing.

  “There was another man there, standing in the shadows. I don’t know who he was. There was a huge black wolf. He shot it, but it didn’t die. It went mad. It killed Gretchen and Mum. When I came in, it ran for me, but I hid in the closet. The man fired the gun. It turned towards him, and he fired again. Did it kill Peter as well?”

  Tears fell, and she let Jeremiah tug her into his arms. She hugged him, then pulled away, sniffling. “I’d like that tea now.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  She sat and picked up the article to continue reading. The attack by the wolf wasn’t mentioned. Instead her father got the blame. It was listed as a murder/suicide and the burned cottage as arson. But then part of the article was wrong. Annabelle hadn’t been there. She hadn’t come home from school for the holidays. And anyway, neither Annabelle nor she had died.

  She leaned back on the sofa and tucked her hands behind her head, staring across the room. She’d gone to the same preparatory boarding school as Annabelle and spent every holiday afterwards in a cottage on the seafront in Margate with her grandparents; nowhere near Paradise, nowhere near any forests.

  Why? Were they afraid she’d remember? And why blame her father for something he hadn’t done? Who was the man in the helmet?

  She got up. Perhaps Jeremiah would know, but would he tell her? After all, he’d lied to her once. Well, maybe not lied, but he hadn’t told her the truth about things and that added up to the same thing in her book. She paused at the kitchen door, hearing him speak on the phone.

  “She’s remembered.”

  Her hand tightened on the door handle.

  “I know that. No, she hasn’t put that part together yet. Yeah, I will.” He paused. “Meredith didn’t ask for this, any more than I did. I will follow my orders, protect her, and get her out of here. Then I’m leaving the rest up to God, her, and my heart. Dad, I care way too much for her. Yeah, I’ll let you know. See you next week. Bye.”

  He cared for her? He loved her? She had heard him right earlier. And it wasn’t one sided either. She had come to care for the tall, dark ranger. More than care for.

  She pushed aside the thought as she flung open the door. “I want the truth. All of it.”

  “Meredith?” He turned, the phone still in his hand.

  “My father got the blame for something he didn’t do. I want to know if this is why I was kept away. First boarding school, holidays on the coast—every holiday that is. Never visiting Paradise; living in a rented flat in London when I wasn’t touring Europe and the UK.”

  “I don’t know, I promise I don’t. I was a child at the time. Not much older than you. We lived in Turningdale on the other side of the forest.”

  Bowie ran into the kitchen, barking.

  Meredith backed away, her heart rate increasing. “Keep him away.”

  ****

  “Bowie, heel.” Jeremiah reached for the dog’s collar keeping the dog away. “It’s OK, Meredith, he won’t hurt you. I’ll put him in the other room.”

  He shut Bowie in the office. “Stay there for a bit, there’s a good boy.” He returned to the kitchen, and sat on the floor beside Meredith, balancing his wrists on his knees. “I couldn’t tell you what little I knew. Maggie and Matt asked me not to.”

  “My own grandparents asked you to lie to me?”

  “I didn’t lie,” Jeremiah said. “I’d never do that, especially not to you. I just kept quiet about things I’d been asked to keep confidential. What did they tell you about the death of your parents?”

  “Not much. We were told Mum and Dad and Gretchen died in an accident when I was seven.” She studied her hands. “As for Peter? He was never mentioned at all. It was as if he never existed. There were no photos, no nothing. I don’t understand. Why cover it up?”

  “Like I said, Dad never explained much about it, never mind their reasons. All I know is there have been several wolf attacks lately, and it seems to have coincided with your return to Paradise. A couple of people were taken to hospital in Turningdale. Head office is handling that. We just go out when they order us to.”

  She frowned. “You mentioned orders on the phone. Something about protecting me. Have you been stalking me?”

  “No. But I’ve been keeping an eye on you, yes. You’re not hard to miss in that red cloak of yours.”

  “Grannie made it for me. She sewed a daisy chain on it and said it’d keep me safe. Every time I wore one out over the years, or I grew taller, she’d make another one. Always red, but a different style each time, and always with a daisy.” She looked up at him with arms crossed. “So since when does protecting me including kissing me?”

  Jeremiah touched her face. “I meant each and every kiss I gave you,” he said softly. “Just as I meant every word about wanting to be with you. I wasn’t looking to fall in love with you, but I have. You probably believe you can’t trust me, or don’t want anything to do with me right now, but please, once this is over and you have your answers, can we at least talk it out?”

  Several emotions played out over her face before she nodded. “OK. If we’re being honest here…I…” She broke off, tugging her top down. “No, I don’t know if I can trust you completely, but my heart does this irritating fluttering thing when you’re around and I kind of liked being kissed. So yes, once this is over, I want to talk.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Good. Now, back to the matter in hand.”

  She steepled her fingers, hands moving as she spoke. “I remember the church bells ringing. Dad left and Mum said I wasn’t allowed to play outside. But I went anyway.” She paled. “I unlocked the door. I let it into the house.”

  Jeremiah shook his head and took her hand. “Listen to me, Meredith. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Why did my Dad take the blame?”

  “I guess your grandparents are the only ones who can answer that.”

  “Gramps didn’t break his arm in a fall, did he?” she said slowly. “Was he bitten? Because that’s what it looked like to me.”

  Jeremiah held her gaze. “Yeah, he was.”

  Meredith stood up, determination in her
face. She reached for her cloak. “Then we should go talk to them. Ask them for the truth.”

  He nodded. “Let me give them a call, find out if they’re back from the hospital. Because this is one conversation you won’t want anyone walking in on.”

  She held his gaze. “Are you putting me off?”

  He grabbed his phone. “No. But do you really want the whole town knowing before you do?” He dialed quickly. “Maggie, its Jeremiah. How’s Matt?” He paused. “Good. I’m bringing Meredith over to visit. Stick the kettle on, we’ll be with you in ten minutes.” He hung up and looked at her. “I’ll get you your answers. I can’t guarantee you’ll like what you hear.”

  Meredith smiled. “Thank you. And that doesn’t matter. I just want the truth.”

  9

  “It was your father’s idea to take the blame.”

  Meredith stared at Grannie, not believing a word she was saying. Carols played in the background, and the tree lights reflected from the lounge into the kitchen from the mirror in the hall. It all seemed at odds with what was going on. “No way.”

  “He was still alive when the rescue services got into the house,” Grannie continued. “He knew if word got out there would be a mass panic.”

  Meredith looked at Jeremiah, really not understanding this. “What about his good name, his reputation?”

  Her grandmother tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “It meant nothing to him. The records were sealed. He died two days later of what the coroner filed as self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the head. You’d forgotten everything that happened that night. So traumatized that the doctor said it was better if you didn’t remember. Annabelle was with me when it happened and she never wanted to talk about it. We kept you both away from Paradise for years, but we both knew this time would come. Especially after your panic attack in Brussels. We knew what piece you were playing.”

  “The music triggered something in my memory. I came here because you and Gramps were here, and I needed you.” She bit her lip. “What happened to Peter?”

  “Peter?” The tapping stopped abruptly. “Who told you about him?”