The Abbey Farm Curse.
Chapter Eighteen.
Saturday night was uneventful, as least as far as I was concerned, and at breakfast Sunday morning nobody showing signs of it being different. In fact the whole atmosphere in the house seemed to have changed. There were no lewd remarks, no silly giggles, no slovenly half-dressed appearances, just five people showered and properly attired, who sat down together for a normal cooked breakfast, prepared by the two girls while everyone else levered themselves out of bed. It has to be said that Ma's presence did put us all on our best behaviour, Rhys included, but that wasn't all of it. The conversation was naturally quiet and polite, centred on the family's plans for the future, what we were going to do with the abbey and its proposed garden centre, what we should grow, what we should sell, and how we should sell it. It was refreshingly ordinary and held out great promise for the future, if only Angie and I could secretly carry through with what we needed to do that night. I can't say it was easy though, trying to act normally with a very abnormal evening looming ever nearer.
The rest of the morning continued in the same vein, for all lascivious thoughts and unwanted urges seemed to have taken a back seat. Ma and I sat down in her room to work up a planting chart for the fruit orchard. It didn't take us long, once you've decided what to grow there are only so many ways you can fit the plants and trees in, and still allow for machinery and cultivation. But then she wanted to try and visualise how it would look on the ground, which necessitated a wander around outside. I wasn't too worried about that, as the less contact she had with everyone the better, but then, to my dismay, she set off to look around the remains of the abbey, including the church, and I began to feel uneasy. Fortunately, when we got there the spirits of the place seemed to be still asleep too, for neither of us, as far as I'm aware, felt the slightest urge to misbehave. My silent prayers of gratitude drifted skyward.
It seems that she'd got a vague idea into her head about having the ruins excavated and turning them into some kind of tourist attraction. I could well see them becoming an attraction, but not for the reasons she had in mind. I did my best to dissuade her, citing the Ancient Monuments Act, which may or may not exist, and all sorts of other potential bureaucratic obstacles. I think, I hope, I changed her mind, because she sighed and turned back, commenting that it was only an idea anyway. My pounding heart began to settle back to its usual rate. That small false alarm was just about the only excitement for the day. In fact things were so normal, so untroubled, that I began to wonder if our plans for that evening were really necessary. Were we really living in a ghostly presence, and did Angie and I really need to have sex together again? Then I realised that I'd answered my own question with that word 'again', because if it wasn't for the force governing our behaviour we wouldn't have done it in the first place, or at least I didn't think so.
Nobody seemed to know when Rhys was due back, or even when George was likely to arrive, and so Ma instructed the girls to have dinner ready for our usual time, and if they weren't here, then too bad. As it happened Rhys came back just as Angie's father arrived, and by brilliant timing both were here about five minutes before the meal was ready for serving. I'll give Angie and Willow their due, they can muster a fantastic Sunday roast. Our traditional roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and so on would have put many a good class restaurant to shame. No wonder everyone tried not to miss it.
After the meal Ma took George on a tour of the grounds, new buildings as well as old, to show him how far we'd got and what was next to do. As soon as they rose to go out so did Rhys, and so I tagged along too, determined that he shouldn't get his own story told first every time. The result was, of course, that neither of us got the chance to say much at all, which is probably the way it should have been. It was good to know that George seemed well enough pleased though. Not unnaturally I suppose, Rhys returned the favour by leaning over our shoulders while I went through the accounts with George and Ma, equally determined that I shouldn't cloud his waters there. I remember hoping that when this curse thing had been settled later that day, assuming it was, that Rhys and I could get along a bit better, because otherwise life was going to be unbearable every time he was on leave. At least when George and Ma left later on we'd neither of us had the chance to turn George against one or the other.
The atmosphere between Rhys and the rest of us then deteriorated rapidly. We were all a bit on edge, the girls and I because of what we knew was coming, and Rhys presumably because he had his date with June. He was clearly feeling pleased with himself, although none of us could let on that we knew why, and he made it obvious with snide remarks and self-congratulatory comments. I think we all decided not to take the baits that were being offered and in the end he gave up trying to wind us up, and we all sat watching our snowy television or reading, with conversation at a standstill. It wasn't until later, when Rhys went through to shower ready for his date that Willow broke the almost total silence to voice a question that must have been bothering her. She waited until Rhys had been gone for a few minutes and then looked around before leaning forward conspiratorially to ask if we thought we should turn our task that evening into some form of ceremony. It wasn't something I'd thought about in that respect and it seems neither had Angie.
'Why?' she asked, puzzled.
'I don't know,' Willow admitted. 'but it just occurred to me that the force behind all this might like us to, you know, to show that we understand its significance.'
'Mmmm, maybe,' I said slowly, 'but we can't go overboard because we're trying to keep the damn thing secret.'
'What do you have in mind?' Angie asked.
'I don't know that either. Perhaps just a drape over the altar and a couple of ceremonial candles?'
'Candles would blow out,' Angie pointed out, 'but we've got a few barbecue torches left.'
'Wouldn't they be seen?' I asked, concerned about concealment.
'I shouldn't think so, not with the walls and all the bushes,' Angie reassured me. 'And even if they are, it's too far from the village for anyone to see more than just a spot of light.'
'Alright then, but just one at each corner, eh?'
'I'll do that,' Willow offered, 'and how about a duvet spread over the altar?'
'That sounds good,' Angie told her, 'and at least then we'll be a bit more comfortable.' She smiled a mischievous smile. 'And Gary will be able to see what he's doing!'
'Cheeky mare!' I shot back at her, and then the subject was abruptly dropped as we heard Rhys in the corridor just outside.
Two seconds later he came in wearing just a bathrobe and dropped back into a chair pretending wonder at our surprised looks.
'I'll get changed in a minute,' he told us, 'I daren't leave you lot on your own for too long, who knows what trouble you might get into.'
We displayed studious ignorance at his jibe, though I couldn't resist a semi-innocent answer.
'We managed well enough before you got here.' I pointed out stiffly.
'Yeah, so I believe.'
We left it at that, and a few minutes later he levered himself out of the chair to go and get dressed. When he returned again he was dressed in a sharp grey suit with white shirt and red silk tie. It hurt, but I had to admit that he looked good.
'Like it?' He asked, shooting his cuffs and gazing down at himself.
'Very smart,' I told him.
