The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1) by Antonia Frost Read Free Book Online

relationship, and she knew that was the only reason she had got involved with him at all—to get back at Adam for dumping her. But Adam was far too wrapped up in Ellie, and hadn’t cared in the slightest, and Zanna had soon realized the mistake she’d made. Her guilt at having used Garrett was deep-seated; she’d hurt him, and was determined not to do it again, so it was better to keep him at arm’s length until she could be sure he’d got the message.
    Ewan was behind the bar, and was only too happy to rustle her up a sandwich.
    ‘I see your friend turned up,’ he said. ‘What does he do, then?’
    ‘He’s a journalist,’ said Zanna.
    ‘I wasn’t sure whether to put him in your room or not.’
    Zanna laughed at the not-so-subtle question.
    ‘Not,’ she said. ‘He’s just a friend.’
    ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, throwing her a look, but Zanna did not rise to the bait.
    ‘Haven’t you got work to do?’ she said pointedly, and he made a face at her and went back into the kitchen.
    After lunch, instead of going to lie down as she had said, she went out again with her sketchbook. The tide was still some way out, and the rocks were dotted here and there with people clambering about. Zanna made for a tall, sloping rock with a flat surface which faced north-west, back towards the shore and the Mercer’s House. There she sat and began to draw the building, whose windows glowered over the beach like dozens of watchful eyes. She was soon engrossed in her work, and sat there for some time, producing sketch after sketch of points on the landscape that attracted her interest.
    She had been there perhaps an hour when she heard a sudden sound quite close by, and jumped. Someone had screamed. Zanna looked around, her heart beating fast, but there was nobody. Seagulls were wheeling in the air not far off, and she laughed and relaxed, and returned to her work, but she had barely started again when she heard another noise and looked up again. This time the voice was definitely human. It was the sound of a woman sobbing, she was sure of it. At times it was loud, at others it seemed to fade into the breeze, but it was quite unmistakable. As Zanna listened, the sobs turned to gasps and then words, although she couldn’t hear what they were. Whoever it was seemed to be pleading, supplicating for something. There was something pitiful and at the same time quite chilling about it. Then, as soon as it had begun, it stopped, and there was no sound but the waves once more. But where had the sound come from? It must be some sort of strange echo effect from the hollows under the rocks, thought Zanna. She sat for a few more minutes until the thumping of her heart subsided, but the experience had unsettled her, and so she very soon packed up her things and returned to the hotel to lie on the bed and doze for an hour, until it was time to go out again.
    At shortly after four, she rang the bell of the Mercer’s House and was admitted by Alexander, who welcomed her as if she were an old friend he hadn’t seen in years.
    ‘Come in! Come in!’ he said. ‘We’re in the garden. So delightful to have an Indian summer like this, don’t you think? It’s so rare we get any sort of summer up here, in fact, that a few days of this sort of weather are something to be treasured. Come and meet Corbin. I’ve told him all about you and he’s dying to meet you.’
    He led her into the kitchen and through a back door into the walled garden she had seen that morning. As far as Zanna could tell, it faced south-west, and at present was in almost full sun, except where bushy creepers overhung the walls in one or two corners. It was mainly laid to path, but here and there were flowerbeds which might once have been neatly planted, but which were now straggly and overgrown.
    ‘It’s a little messy now,’ said Alexander. ‘Corbin liked to potter in the garden before he fell ill, but he can’t really manage it now. Here’s Zanna, Corbin,’ he went on,