Phil Rickman - The Fabric of Sin

ALTHOUGH THE COUNTRYSIDE around the barn was open and level, three landmark hills were laid out along the horizon. Like ancient and venerated body parts, Merrily thought, the bones of the Border. Holy relics on display in the sunset glow.

Standing at the barn window with Adam Eastgate, she tracked them, right to left, from the southern end of the Black Mountains: the volcanic-looking Sugar Loaf and the ruined profile of The Skirrid which legend said had cracked open when Jesus Christ died on the cross.

Still somehow sacred, these hills. No towns crowded them, nobody messed with them.

At least, not the way someone had with the third and lowest hill, the only one this side of the Welsh border but still maybe a dozen miles away. The third hill had been stabbed under its summit, some kind of radio mast sticking out like a spear from the spine of a fallen warrior, a torn and bloody pennant of cloud flurrying horizontally from its shaft.

Oh, Merrily said, realizing. Right. They say its like another country up there.

Garway.

The light through the window was this deep, fruity pink, the sun dying somewhere behind the hill with its radio mast, its famously enigmatic church and a farmhouse called the Master House that they were saying was haunted.

Adam Eastgate had been aiming a forefinger like he wanted to stab the hill himself, again and again. Sighing, he let his hand fall.

We dont often make mistakes, Merrily.

Shed never actually been to Garway Hill. Nor, before today, to this place either a tidy cluster of converted farm buildings off a dead-end country lane, maybe three miles outside the city. Pieces of Herefordshire adding up to more than twelve thousand acres were administered from here, on behalf of perhaps the most prestigious landlord in the country, and she hadnt even heard of it.

All the stuff you ought to know about and didnt. Sometimes this county could be just a little too discreet. All a bit awkward. Merrily turned away from the window and the hills.

Jane and I my daughter we keep planning to go over to Garway, check out the Knights Templar church. Somehow never seem to find the time.

Aye, we saw it with the Man, when he came to inspect the farm. Likes a quiet stroll when he can. And, of course, its always so quiet there, nobody noticed us even when Adam Eastgate slipping her a cautious glance. Why are you smiling?

You might not have seen a soul, but itd be all over the hill before he was back in his Land Rover. Merrily looked down at the outline plans on the conference table. They were blurred. She rubbed her eyes. He inspects every property you take on? Personally?

Aw, hey, hes not just a figurehead.

The brackeny accent digging in Northumbria. In his dry, soldierly way, Adam Eastgate was affronted. Very protective of the Man, the people working here.

Does he know about this particular problem then?

Eastgate didnt reply, which could have meant yes or no or not something youre supposed to ask.

OK, then. Merrily sat down in one of the high-backed chairs, red brocade. What, specifically, are we looking at?

Oh hell, I cant tell you. Perhaps I wasnt listening hard enough, yknow?

Or you find it embarrassing?

Not a question of embarrassment, Merrily, Im just not the man it happened to. If anything did.

Always the get-out clause.

How would you like me to play it, then?

How would you normally play it?

Well Dear God, how long was this going to take? To begin with, we usually try to find out if theres a back-story. Talk to local people, village historian theres always a village historian. Or maybe She clocked his wince. That would be the wrong approach, would it?

Depends if you want it on American TV before the weeks out.

Seriously?

Merrily Tight smile. Im the land-steward. Deal with builders, architects and tenants, right? Most of whom good as gold. But we know if were forced to evict somebody who hasnt parted with the rent for two years, next days tabloids were half-expecting Prince Puts Family on the Street.

Oh.

You see where were going?

Haunted Prince calls in Exorcist?

Eastgate shuddered. Nice chap, Adam, the Bishop had said. Knows what he wants and how to get it done. But raising this had taken the best part of half an hour and three false starts.

This had been two nights ago, one of those receptions where the Duchy was explaining its ambitious conservation plans to the great and the good of Hereford. The Bishop and the Archdeacon and their wives were having a drink afterwards with Adam Eastgate when the Garway investment had come up. And its complications. You could imagine the Bishop nodding helpfully. We do have a person, you know, looks after this kind of thing.

I mean, youllve read the stuff, same as I have, Eastgate said. He only has to venture an off-the-cuff opinion on whatever it is architecture, alternative medicine, GM foods

The benefits of talking to plants?

See, there you go! Thats exactly it. How many years ago was that? But do they ever forget?

Well, no. This was the nations last bit of official glitter, a face from commemorative investiture plaques, Royal Wedding mugs on your grans dresser. Merrily feeling slightly ashamed that, although shed known it was most unlikely that the Man would be here today, she was wearing her best coat. Her mother would have agonized, changing tops, changing shoes, inspecting her hair many times in the car mirror, just in case.

Who is it safe to talk to, then? Whos actually living in the house?

Well nobody. Im trying to explain, this came from the builder. Canny fella, normally. Or so I thought till hes ringing us up Adam, man, I think youre going to have to find somebody else for this one. Im going, What?

Eastgate walked to the darkening window, glanced out briefly, unseeing, turned and came back.

Were good employers, Merrily. In some ways, the best. Never short of tenders and once theyre allocated we dont get jobs chucked back at us. Doesnt happen.

Merrily nodding. Theyd be a fairly significant name on a builders CV. But it worked both ways, Eastgate said. This builder had a rare feel for an old property. And the Master House itself

See, normally, were not interested in anything less than about two hundred acres, and this is, what, ninety-five? But its a forgotten bit of old England, right down there on the very edge of Wales. Not much you find these days completely unrestored, hardly touched in over a century. We get to tease out the past. Plus, Im thinking craft workshops in the barns, the stables, the granary a little working community, new economic life. And green. Very green. Woodburners, rainwater tanks, sheeps-wool insulation

Oh, he loves all that, doesnt he?

The Man? Its his number one, and it influences us all, naturally. Eastgate shook his head. Im going, come on, Felix, what is this really about? You sick? Domestic problems? Adam, he says to us, maybe this is an old place that doesnt want to be restored. His words.