Free Spider Light by Sarah Rayne Page A

and the feeble justice system had not been prepared to deal properly with this creature, this seducer of young men, then she would have to do it herself. The hows and the whens of the punishment would need to be carefully thought out, but she had eight years to do that. As for the where …
    Donna smiled the secret smile–the smile she had once kept for Don, and that no one else would ever see now. There was only one place where punishment could be properly administered to this murdering bitch, and that was the place of Donna’s own childhood–the place where her parents had taken her and Don every summer.
    The tiny market town of Amberwood in Cheshire. Charity Cottage in the grounds of Quire House: the cottage Donna’s parents had liked so much and had rented for a month every summer. A place of great atmosphere, Donna’s mother used to say. So restful.
    And on Amberwood’s outskirts was the old mill. Twygrist. Twygrist was not restful. When Donna thought about it–when she thought of what had happened inside it–the smile curved her lips again, and the embryo plan to destroy Antonia Weston took a darker turn. Twygrist.
    Could Weston somehow be got to Amberwood when she was released? Once there, could she be lured out to Twygrist?

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Maud’s birthday present to Thomasina was a framed charcoal drawing she had made of Thomasina standing in the main doorway of Quire House. She had had it properly framed, and had wrapped it in gold-spangled paper. Thomasina was very pleased; she said they would choose a well-lit place to hang it so people could properly admire it. Perhaps the music room would be a good idea.
    Maud was glad Thomasina was so pleased, and relieved Thomasina had not seen her first attempt at the sketch. Halfway through she had suddenly seen that she had drawn Thomasina as immensely tall, with dreadful greedy eyes and large teeth, like the ogresses in the stories, whose appetites were inclined towards human children, and who plotted to steal them away. How dreadful of her, after all Thomasina’s kindness.
    During breakfast, opening her letters, Thomasina said, in what Maud thought was a slightly too casual voice, that she had invited her cousin Simon to stay at Quire for a week or so.
    ‘And he’s written to say he’ll be here this afternoon. He’s in financial difficulties again of course–that’s a common occurrence with Simon–but he’s the nearest thing I’ve got to a brother. He spent a lot of his school holidays at Quire; my father alwaysthought him a bit weak and too much of a drifter to ever do any good, but he’s a charming drifter and an entertaining companion so I shan’t mind having him around. If he gets bored he can go rough shooting with Cormac Sullivan.’
    Maud thought it was nice that Thomasina’s cousin would be there for her birthday dinner, and Thomasina said they would have a very good evening. After dinner Maud could play some music, providing it was not one of those gloomy pieces by that man who had been refused Christian burial or something, so that his coffin had languished in a cellar for months. Paganini, was it? Well, whatever he had been called, they did not want him tonight.
    Thomasina seemed quite excited about Simon’s arrival; Maud even began to wonder if there could be something romantic between them, although that was not very likely. Thomasina had no time for men and she looked on Simon as a brother, she had said so.
    But there was a hectic colour in her face which was unusual because she was normally sallow-skinned, and her eyes had a glittery look. Maud hoped it did not mean Thomasina wanted ‘It’ to happen that night. For the last few nights she had pretended to fall asleep as soon as she got into bed, and it was nearly a week since ‘It’ had happened. So Thomasina might consider it was time for a particularly strenuous session, and since it was her birthday Maud supposed it would be ungenerous to refuse. But the prospect was daunting.