Free The Prayer of the Night Shepherd by Phil Rickman Page A

‘and he told Antony about his plans to pinch a piece of the Sherlock Holmes tourist trade, and now he’s half-sold him on the idea of a separate documentary on all of that . Which would have launched the whole thing nationally – brought us a lot of publicity for the hotel and some sort of fee, presumably.’
    ‘Also,’ Nat said, ‘the crew would have to stay somewhere, so that would tide us over the lean period before Christmas.’
    Amber looked doubtful. ‘Crews aren’t what they used to be. It’s usually one person with a Handycam from Boots. And they’d have been doing most of their filming during the conference of The Baker Street League, when we’d be full up anyway. But that... obviously doesn’t apply any more. We’re stuffed.’
    She picked up the double oven glove and slid her hands into it and covered her eyes. Jane wasn’t sure if this was a comic gesture or concealment of actual tears. She imagined Ben telling Amber about the idyllic country-house hotel he’d found for them: open log fires, big, warm, traditional kitchen where she could work her magic. Cosy and romantic. Amber not realizing then that Ben’s idea of romance was a howling in the night and a fiery hound on the moors.
    Natalie walked over and put an arm around Amber. The worldly big sister, taller and leaner and more together. ‘We can still do something . We can rescue something.’
    ‘We need more time, and we haven’t got it. Antony’s booked in for tonight, Ben can’t reach him on his mobile. He could turn up any time.’ Amber lowered the oven gloves; her eyes were dry. ‘Look at this place. It’s like some old workhouse.’
    ‘No, it’s cool,’ Jane said. ‘Really.’
    ‘It’s bloody freezing, Jane. I keep on at Ben to check out this damp patch under the stairs, and he avoids it. He thinks burst pipes mystically seal themselves. This makes it four leaks we’ve had since the autumn. Does that augur well?’
    Jane looked up through the window, moving to her right so that one of the ridges of Stanner Rocks came into view. It was a proven scientific fact that Stanner Rocks were strange, because of the Standing Wave that altered the climate, the comparative darkness of the rock itself, holding the heat, and the thin soil where plants grew that you couldn’t find anywhere else in Britain. Jane felt that, in ancient times, Stanner Rocks would have been sacred, like some gloomy, miniature form of Ayer’s Rock in Australia.
    ‘I mean, until you live in a place like this you never realize what plumbing’s about,’ Amber wailed. ‘There’s miles of pipe – miles .’
    ‘I mean there’s an energy here,’ Jane said. ‘And it’s right on the Border. On the edge.’
    ‘We’re all on the edge,’ Amber said bitterly.
    Ben, however, when he strode into the kitchen, seemed to have recovered – now apparently relishing the adversity, refocused.
    ‘I think ... we’ll put Antony in the tower room.’
    ‘You couldn’t stop him?’ Amber said in dismay.
    ‘I stopped trying.’ Ben, in tight black jeans and a white shirt, was swaying like a tightrope walker re-establishing his balance. ‘The more I think about it, we don’t need the bloody Baker Street League. What we have is strong enough.’
    ‘Oh God,’ Amber said.
    ‘You don’t mind going back to your old room for a couple of nights, do you, Jane?’
    ‘She already has,’ Amber said. ‘Why do you want to put Antony Largo in the tower room?’
    ‘More of an atmosphere.’ Ben smiled at Jane. ‘Don’t you think?’
    Jane must have blushed or something, because Ben smirked and said, ‘Nip up and open the windows, Jane, would you, and give the bedding a shake.’
    ‘Right.’
    Oh well... Up the steps into the lobby, which now merged with the hall. Up the baronial stairs...
    And when you got to the top of the first flight and turned right, through the fire doors, into the ill-lit passage towards the west, it was clear why this part of the house –