‘Looks like someone’s at home,’ says Tanya. ‘Is that where you’re staying, Janet?’
‘No,’ says Janet, still clasping her stout stick. ‘It’s the house behind. I’ve got a key to it though. I’ve got keys to all the houses in the alley.’
‘Let’s get it then,’ says Tanya.
Janet leads them back to Steward’s House and into the shop on the ground floor. There, amongst leaflets extolling the wonders of Norfolk, she opens a safe and takes out a key. Ruth and Tanya wait by the door. Tanya still looks calm, almost bored, but Ruth notices her checking her phone. Is she wondering why she hasn’t heard from Nelson?
Armed with the key (and the stick) they make their way back through the alley and round to the road on the other side. There are more Tudor houses here, bulging out into the street. Janet goes up to a small oak door.
‘This is the one, I think. Yes.’ The door creaks open, with full Hammer House of Horror sound effects.
‘Shall we go in?’ says Tanya, as if offering a great treat.
Ruth almost asks to stay behind but the thought of being left alone in the silent street is almost worse than climbing the stairs and facing whatever entity will be revealed by the flickering candlelight.
Tanya goes first, holding out her phone, its torch app illuminating low ceilings and heavy beams. Janet follows. Ruth wishes she wasn’t at the back.
It’s almost nine o’clock when Nelson reaches the centre of Norwich. Tanya said that she was parked by the cathedral, so he drives through the gateway and stops in front of the huge wooden doors. He’s never given much thought to the church before and has never been inside. ‘Protestant,’ his mother would say, before adding, ‘but it was ours once.’ In the dark it seems rather ominous, such a solid edifice of wood and stone. A fitful moon spotlights battlements and leering gargoyles. Nelson gets out of his car. Where is Tanya and, more importantly, where is Ruth? ‘Steward’s House,’ Tanya said in her message. Nelson remembers Eileen’s postcard. Augustine Steward’s House, Tombland, is haunted by the Grey Lady. This tormented ghost from the sixteenth century hides a terrible secret. Where the hell is this cheery place?
He walks back through the gateway and surveys the street opposite. The lopsided house with its parallelogram of beams is unmissable. It’s leaning in towards its neighbour, squashing the windows inwards. The place is clearly unsafe. Surely it should have been knocked down years ago?
Nelson crosses the road and sees that the ground floor is a shop, one of those tourist centres. ‘Norfolk,’ declares a poster, ‘Nelson’s county.’ Nelson smiles thinly and knocks on the window, wondering if he’ll set off an alarm. But there’s nothing but an echo, amplified by the silence. Then he sees a door with bells for several flats. He rings them all. No answer. Nelson walks around the corner, through a small alleyway. It’s even darker here and there’s a soapy scent, both familiar and rather unpleasant.
When he’s felled to the ground his last coherent thought is that the building has collapsed on him.
‘Can you call me?’ That was Abbas’s message. Judy goes into the hall to do so. From the sitting room, the battle music is rising to a thrilling climax.
‘I think we might be reaching a crisis point,’ says Abbas.
‘What does that mean?’ asks Judy, amazed that she is still able to speak. She feels oddly calm, as if her mind has left her body and is floating somewhere above her, amongst the cobwebs that Cathbad won’t remove because he respects spiders too much.
‘Cathbad’s immune system’s in overdrive which means his body is starting to attack the healthy tissue.’
‘What can you do about that?’
‘We’re doing what we can but his temperature’s very high and we’re concerned about his heart rhythm.’
‘Can I see him?’ says Judy.
‘I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry.’
‘What can I do then?’
‘Pray,’ says Abbas.
‘Who’s there?’ shouts Tanya. Ruth has to admire her nerve. They are on a small landing, facing several closed doors. Light clearly shows under one of them.
‘Hallo?’ comes a quavering voice. To Ruth’s surprise, she thinks she recognises it.
The door opens and a thin figure in a grey hood stands in front of them, holding a candle.
‘Mother of God,’ says Janet, reverting to her Catholic upbringing.
‘Eileen?’ says Ruth.
Eileen Gribbon, who is wearing a grey UNN sweatshirt, says, ‘Dr Galloway? What are you doing here?’
‘I might ask you the same thing,’ says Ruth, rather breathless from the stairs and the fright.
‘We’re living here,’ says Eileen. ‘Me and Joe. Joe was looking round Tombland one day and he saw all these empty houses. We broke in. We’re not doing any harm,’ she adds, obviously seeing Ruth as an authority figure. ‘It’s just that we didn’t have anywhere to go, and I couldn’t stand halls any more.’
‘You should have told me,’ says Janet. ‘I would have let you in. There’s no one else here.’
‘I think there is,’ says Eileen. ‘I can hear someone crying at night.’
Ruth’s blood runs cold, especially when Janet answers calmly, ‘That’s just the Grey Lady. I’ve heard it too.’
‘Eileen,’ says Ruth, ‘where’s Joe?’
‘I’m not sure,’ says Eileen. ‘He went out about an hour ago, just for some fresh air. I wish he’d come back.’
And, echoing through the walls, comes the terrible sound of sobbing.
Nelson is, once again, floating on a dark sea. The waves are breaking, white against black and, somewhere far off, he can hear music playing. It sounds like the slot machines on Blackpool pier. Then he’s on the beach, miles and miles of sand interspersed with strange shapes that look both ancient and threatening. There’s someone waiting for him at the water’s edge and, for a second, he thinks it’s Tim. Then there’s a swirl of cloak and he knows.
‘Hallo, Cathbad,’ says Nelson.