The Warrior’s Princess. Barbara Erskine

      ‘Hi Steph, how are you?’

      Steph answered her mobile as she walked out of the palazzo next morning on her way to buy some food for Kim’s dinner party that evening. Kim was already entrenched in the kitchen, and last-minute guests had meant last-minute supplies.

      ‘Who is that?’ Pausing, Steph turned, pulling her dark glasses down over her eyes. The heat was like a furnace, reflecting off the pavements of the piazza, the traffic roaring noisily round the corner past her. Behind her the palazzo was a classic elegant Renaissance building, the faded terracotta façade peeling now and in places cracked and crumbling, the formal, perfectly symmetrical windows topped by swags and curls of exquisite stone carving. At the centre the huge old door was studded and barred in iron, a small pass door almost invisible in the ancient wood. Kim’s husband, Stefano, had been born and brought up in the huge high-ceilinged shabby apartment in this ancient palazzo, an apartment bought by his father specifically so his family could be a part of this Bohemian artistic quarter of the city.

      Turning to face it she stared up at the walls as the voice spoke in her ear. ‘It’s Will, Steph. Please, don’t hang up. I need to talk to you.’

      She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’ She began walking again, her hand tightening on the phone as she turned into a narrow alleyway. It was quieter here and she could hear him more easily.

      ‘I’ve been trying to contact Jess. You know she’s left school? She resigned without giving anyone a reason. She’s not answering her mobile and I’m pretty sure she’s not at the flat any more. I’m worried about her.’

      ‘What makes you think I would know where she was?’ Steph turned into the Via dei Capellari. She was heading towards the market in the Campo de’ Fiori.

      ‘That’s a stupid question. Of course you’d know. You two always tell each other everything. Is she there with you?’

      ‘No, she isn’t. I’m in Rome, Will. I don’t know where she is.’ She stopped again, staring sightlessly into the window of a small picture framer. It was cooler in the shade of this long narrow street. Near her two men had brought their chairs outside, slotting them between two huge terracotta pots of camellias. They were sipping iced beer, drops of condensation running down between their fingers and dripping onto their T-shirts. ‘Dan said he thought she might have come to stay with you.’ Will sighed. ‘Oh well. Do you at least know why she resigned?’

      ‘No.’ Steph began to walk on slowly. She had always liked Will, been sad when he and Jess split up, but if Jess was not telling anyone where she was, there had to be a reason. ‘Will, there’s no point in asking me. If Jess wants you to know where she is, she would tell you. I haven’t seen her for ages.’ That at least was true. ‘I’m here for the summer, so I don’t expect to either.’

      There was a long silence. ‘Do you think she’s gone to stay with your mother in France?’ He sounded crestfallen.

      Steph shrugged. She wasn’t sure if Jess had told Aurelia where she was; and she wasn’t sure her mother would keep it a secret if she had. Aurelia too had been one of Will’s greatest fans. ‘Will, are you there? I don’t think she’s in France,’ she said firmly. ‘Mummy would have said. I spoke to her only a day or so ago and she was just leaving for a trip to India.’ She crossed her fingers. Another lie, but only a small one. Aurelia had in fact just returned. As she tucked her mobile back into her bag she frowned. Why was Jess being so secretive? Something was going on. She would ring her tonight and find out exactly what it was

      Dan phoned Ty Bran as Jess was eating a bowl of cereal. ‘I’m in Hay. I wondered if you would like to drive over and join me for lunch.’

      She rescued the slice of toast that had leaped from the toaster, juggling it with her bowl of muesli. The door was wide open and the blackbird had forgiven her enough for her nocturnal intrusion on its sleeping place to sit on the top of the studio roof, singing gloriously into the sunshine. Her depression had gone; the peace of this place was working its magic at last. After the noise and dirt of London it was balm to her soul.

      ‘You’re in Hay?’ She frowned. ‘What are you doing there?’

      ‘Shopping for books. What else?’

      ‘But you never told me you were coming over this side of the country.’

      ‘Didn’t I?’ He laughed.

      ‘No, you didn’t. Are Natalie and the kids with you?’

      ‘Not this time. Bookshops bore them, sadly. I’m on my way to join them in Shropshire in a couple of days. They’ve gone up to stay with Nat’s parents. Oh come on, Jess. It wouldn’t take you much more than an hour to get here.’

      Jess glanced over her shoulder at the open door. She was, she realised, already surprisingly reluctant to leave this peaceful place in spite of its uneasy echoes. On the other hand she needed to do some shopping and perhaps a change of scene would do no harm.

      They met in the bar at The Kilvert at twelve thirty. There were no outside tables left by the time she got there so they settled for a table inside by the window.

      ‘So, are you feeling better about things now?’ He put a glass of wine down in front of her, sat down across the table and studied her face for a moment. ‘You look tired.’

      She grimaced. ‘I’ve been having some rather spectacular nightmares.’ It was a relief to have someone to confide in but she hadn’t intended to come out with it quite so bluntly or so soon.

      ‘What about?’ He looked away and took a gulp from his pint.

      ‘A little girl.’ She paused, wondering if she should go into any detail. ‘Two little girls. Steph’s house seems to be haunted by them.’ She glanced up to gauge his reaction.

      ‘Haunted? Really?’ He was looking down into his glass. He seemed amused. He pushed the bar menu across the table towards her, still without meeting her gaze. ‘Would you like to choose something? So, what form does this haunting take?’

      She shrugged. ‘As I said, nightmares and I think I may have seen them.’

      ‘Wow.’ He was still looking at the menu. ‘Has Steph seen them too?’

      ‘She says she suspected there was a ghost.’

      ‘And so what happens in your nightmare?’ His brown eyes were twinkling as he finally looked up at her.

      ‘One of them is raped.’

      She saw the shock on his face as he put down the menu and turned to stare out of the doorway where the sunlight was beating down on the umbrellas over the crowded tables around the front door. ‘Raped?’ he echoed.

      She nodded. ‘By Roman soldiers.’

      ‘That must be a scary dream.’ He still wasn’t looking at her.

      ‘It was.’ Suddenly she was regretting telling him.

      There was a long silence. They both went back to perusing the menu. Abruptly Dan stood up. ‘I’d better order. Have you decided yet?’

      When he returned to the table he had brought her another glass of wine. ‘Has Will been in touch?’

      ‘He’s phoned my mobile a few times.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘And nothing.’

      There was a pause. When she didn’t elaborate he went on. ‘And Ashley? Has he phoned you too?’

      She sighed. ‘Ash broke into my flat just before I left. He brought me some flowers to say thanks for teaching him.’

      ‘Broke in?’ Dan echoed. ‘What do you mean, broke in?’

      ‘I found the flowers on my coffee table. I suppose I could