A Room Full of Bones: A Ruth Galloway Investigation

to trust to the flow.’
    But Nelson has never been one to trust what he can’t see. He trudges along the beach, looking for a way out.
    Bob is walking round the bonfire, occasionally raising his stick to the skies. What is he doing? Is he ill-wishing Cathbad? Is he pointing the bone? Or is he trying to save him? What about Nelson? Is Bob too trying to enter the Dreaming? Will he fight with Cathbad over Nelson’s lifeless body? It’s all nonsense, Ruth knows, but, somehow, here in the darkness with the wind roaring around the house, it doesn’t seem like nonsense.
    Bob stops and looks up at the house. Ruth doesn’t know how visible she is, standing in the dark bedroom. She shrinks back against the wall. Bob continues his pacing, moving in and out of the light. Then he stops and is looking at something on the ground. What is it? Ruth presses her face against the window again. Oh God, it’s Flint. The ginger cat has appeared from nowhere and is rubbing around Bob’s ankles. Get away from him, Flint!She sends up a prayer to Mother Julian and her cat. Protect Flint. Don’t let him become one of Bob’s sinister Dreamtime creatures.
    Cathbad stirs in his sleep. This is all your fault, Ruth wants to tell him. I should be sleeping peacefully with my baby in her cot and my cat on my feet. Instead she has entered some ghastly dream world where snakes and sacred animals prowl in the darkness and two of Ruth’s best friends lie between life and death. She crosses the landing to check on Kate. As she does so, she hears a noise downstairs. What is it? Has Bob broken in? Did Cathbad even lock the door? She stands frozen, prepared to defend her baby with her life. Cathbad will have to fend for himself. Then thunderous paws sound on the stairs and a reproachful meow greets her. Thank God. It was only Flint coming through the cat flap. Ruth picks up her cat and hugs him tightly.
    The lights are getting brighter now. Judy can see the walls of the yard, the house rising up in the distance. Thank God. They’ve made it. Her ankle hurts, she’s wet through and she feels as if her heart is about to explode, but she’s curiously elated. They’ve made it through the dark woods and there, a few yards away, is shelter, a telephone, backup. The wind is still roaring but the rain seems to have stopped. She’s just about to turn to Clough to congratulate him, thank him, when the most terrifying noise fills the night. A kind of drawn-out moan, guttural and agonised. Judy stops, petrified. She hadn’t thought it possible to be any more frightened but now she feels as if her hair is standing straight up on end.
    ‘What the hell was that?’ she whispers.
    ‘Sounds like a donkey,’ says Clough briskly.
    ‘A donkey?’
    ‘Yeah, a donkey braying. Come on. We’ve got to keep moving.’
    Why would there be a donkey at a racing stables, thinks Judy, but she jogs to keep up with Clough. She’s not about to let him out of her sight for a second. They are near the stable wall now and she can see the clock tower and the horse walker, monstrous in the moonlight. The light is coming from the cottage by the main gates.
    ‘Caroline’s cottage,’ pants Judy.
    ‘She’s a mate of Trace’s,’ says Clough. ‘She’ll help us.’
    Judy is still not very well disposed towards Caroline but right now she’d trust anyone who isn’t actually pointing a gun at her. She thinks of warm houses, lights, telephones. She starts to run.
    As their feet touch the tarmac, the security lights come on, almost blinding them. The terrible noise reverberates again. It’s only a donkey, Judy tells herself, but it gives her the horrors all the same. Surely the noise must have roused someone up at the house. Randolph? The mysterious Lady Smith? Surely, any moment now, Len Harris will appear and shoot them down like vermin. But no one appears. They run through the car park, past sports cars and jeeps (Judy is now sure that the blue Ferrari belongs to Len Harris), and seconds later they’re pressing the bell marked ‘Visitors Please Report Here’.
    Caroline takes some time to come to the door but, when she does, she is fully dressed in outdoor clothes.She looks different, Judy thinks. Perhaps it’s because she has her hair up.
    ‘Police,’ gasps Judy. ‘Need to use your phone.’
    ‘The lines are down,’ says Caroline. ‘It’s the storm.’
    ‘I’ve got my phone,’ says Clough. ‘Can we come in?’
    Caroline stands aside. ‘I’ll get you some