The Abbey Farm Curse. Ch. 15

The Abbey Farm Curse

Chapter Fifteen.

After we had returned to reality we sat for several silent minutes in the confines of the old church staring at the medieval altar, knowing what was within it and what had taken place on that hidden stone nearly two millennia before. We knew now what we had to do to cure the abbey of its ills, although admitting it to ourselves was a different matter.

'I'm glad it didn't let us get undressed,' Willow said suddenly, trying to divert our thoughts.

'Fuck, yeah!' Angie exclaimed, thinking about the prospect of being naked among Roman soldiers, even invisibly. 'I'd have been scared shitless.'

We still found it hard to get our heads around what happened each time the present day faded out and we looked through another window into the past. We knew intellectually that we didn't move and we remained in our own time, but our senses told us we were in a different age and our minds reacted accordingly. It was so difficult to convince ourselves we weren't as visible to the past as the past was to us. We would all have felt unnecessarily vulnerable if we had been naked.

'And I thought Rhys gave me a hard time!' She added with a tiny smile, remembering the fate of the Celtic queen.

'You know what it all means, don't you?'

I wasn't sure the ramifications had sunk in, unless they were avoiding thinking about it. We needed to face the thing sooner or later and I was coward enough to opt for later if I let myself, so I needed to bring it out now whilst I had the nerve. It must have been going through Angie's mind too.

'It means we've got to find the Roman general's descendants and those of the Celtic woman, though how we're supposed to do that I haven't a clue. Then we've got to persuade them to fuck each other on our altar. Any suggestions on where we start?' She had nearly got the answer, but she'd missed the glaringly obvious.

'We don't have to find his descendants, Angie, because it's us - we're them!' I told her. 'One of us is descended from the queen and the other from the Roman. We're the ones who have to lift the curse.'

'Oh fucking hell!' Angie was not impressed. 'That means I'm Roman, doesn't it? You've only got to look at us to see which is which, and your Ma is always going on about her ancestry. Fuck, I wish I didn't have to be related to that scumbag Roman.'

'Doesn't have to be that way. It's two thousand years ago and it could just as easily be me whose descended from him and you from her.'

'Perhaps that's what makes Rhys such a twat,' Willow giggled.

'Yeah, that's true.' Angie liked that idea. 'But it isn't very likely, is it?'

'It could easily be,' I told her, 'we've all got some Roman blood in us, along with Viking, Norman, Saxon, and pretty much everything else. English people are the biggest set of mongrels there is, so it's impossible to know which is which. It's just that the abbey has realised that we have the right ancestors one way or the other.'

'Are you sure?' Angie asked, still looking doubtful.

'Yes, it's the only thing that fits. That's what all this has been about, that's why we keep being shown the past, to tell us what we need to know. That's why we've been picked out, it has to be. We are the ones needed to lift the old queen's curse, in fact we're probably the only ones who can.'

'Gary's right, Angie,' Willow put in. 'The force in the abbey has waited all this time for both sets of descendants to come back here, and now you have and it's showing you how to lift the curse.'

'I bet that's why it sent Rhys to your bedroom,' I exclaimed with sudden realisation, 'because he's my brother, and so it could be either you and me or you and Rhys who could lift do it. I bet the place was trying to see which of us would be the most feasible, and after you rejected him I think it's decided not to use Rhys.'

'So what you're saying,' Angie nodded thoughtfully and then spoke slowly to Willow as if trying to get her head on straight, 'is that Gary and I have got to go up to that church and shag each other stupid on top of the altar?'

'That's why the calendar.' Willow burst out suddenly.

Both Angie and I looked at her in blank surprise.

'I've just realised,' she went on, 'that it made you get a calendar because the right day is important. That Queen said it has to be on the night of the long day, didn't she?'

We nodded, our brains trying to keep up with Willow's.

'So it has to be on the summer solstice, the longest day. That's why the calendar was needed, to make sure we understood.'

'So we've got to do it on the top of that altar on June the twenty-first, and only on that day?' I said slowly, my mind finally grasping what was meant and doing the mental arithmetic over the dates. 'And that's Sunday night.'

'Bluntly, yes!' Willow told her, 'you have. If anyone ever wants to live here in peace, that is.'

'Then why the big deal? Why hasn't the bloody place just influenced us to do it anyway, without all this peeking into history? I mean, it got us doing pretty much everything everywhere before we knew anything about what happened.'

'Because it has to be done this way. You heard that Celtic queen, it has to be on the summer solstice, because that's the longest day, by both descendants doing it willingly, and to do it willingly they've got to know why. Now you do know why, and when, but it can't make you do it or it won't be willingly.'

'Well, I might do it of my own free will but I can't say I want to, so does that count as willingly? What about you Gary?'

'I'm not exactly over the moon with the idea,' I answered. 'But it'll have to happen. It's the only way to sort this place out.'

'Why don't we all leave and let someone else sort it out?' Angie asked, more of herself than of us.

'Because Ma wouldn't give up her dream farm without a very good reason, and we're not in the position to give her a reason, unless you want to admit what we've all been up to,' I reminded her. 'And, more importantly. Nobody else can sort the place out.'

'Well, she might well be here Saturday, and that's the day after tomorrow and then the longest day is Sunday, so we'd better get our thinking caps on and come up with an answer before then. Because the house will try and make it happen whether we want it to or not.'

Willow had hit the nail on the head and we all lapsed into a brooding silence once more, a silence lasting on and off until dinner time.

It was my turn to cook again and I was busy peeling potatoes for a shepherd's pie when Willow came into the kitchen.

'You're going to have to do it, aren't you Gary?' she stated baldly, not needing to specify.

'I don't know Will, I really don't,' I answered.

'But you can't not.'

'How can I though? I like Angie as a friend, and yes I find her attractive, and yes I know what we've been up to. And even after finding out that we'd not been going to bed together because of mutual attraction I've still not regretted it. But to do it coldly like that on a particular day in a particular place, with every chance of Rhys catching us at it.... Would you want to do it?'

'No, I don't suppose I would, but I'd know I'd have no choice either.'

'Why?' I knew why, I just needed to hear it from someone else. 'Why do I have no choice?'

'Because if you don't then no family can never live here in harmony and you'd only be passing the problem down to future generations. Even if you could convince Ma not to live here, anyone else will have the same problems that people have had all down the years and who can tell when the right people would turn up again, it took two thousand years last time. So somehow you have to, you and Angie. As you said yourself. You're the only ones who can.'

'Yeah, I know,' I sighed as I finally admitted it, 'though I just wish I didn't have to.'

I'd thought about it, and the reason I was so reluctant was simply that I felt so damn used. I'd been tricked into fucking someone I shouldn't even have thought about in that way, and then been told it was so that I would have to do it again at a certain time in a certain place just because one of my long lost ancestors had either been a complete bastard or a defeated queen. It didn't seem fair. It was time to change the subject for a while and give my brain a rest.

'Do you think I should make enough food for Rhys?'

'He did say he'd be back, so you ought to.'

'Fair enough, can you get me the lamb mince from the freezer?'

I put the potatoes onto the stove and set the big frying pan next to them ready to brown the mince. Willow weighed out the lamb and watched me as I browned it and softened some diced onion, each of us deep into our own thoughts.

'I think I'm going to ask June for any ideas she might have.' I needed all the help I can get.

'Good idea,' agreed Will.

'What's a good idea?' Rhys asked as he came in unheard behind us.

'For you to give women more respect,' I shot at him, almost grateful for some target to aim at.

'Whoa boy. What's got up your nose?' he asked, his voice carrying an amused, patronising tone to it.

'You have,' I told him forcefully, 'because you treated Angie like some kind of paid whore last night.'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Willow quietly slip out through the door as I vented my frustrations on Rhys.

'Be careful what you say there, brother. She called to me and offered herself. All I did was give her what she wanted, nothing more, nothing less. She wanted fucking, I fucked her, end of story.'

'Did she not deserve some pleasure herself then, or was she purely somewhere to empty your balls?'

I saw his face darken at my words and I knew I was pushing my luck.

'Ok, maybe I shouldn't have done it with Angie, but she did ask.'

'She says she didn't.'

'Then she's a liar,' he stated bluntly, 'she shouted across to me, and I went in to her, that's all there is to it.'

I stood and looked at him, my stare telling him of my contempt. Yes, I believed he thought she'd shouted, after all it had happened to both me and Willow in the past, but I still hated how he'd treated her. But at least he hadn't suspected that the house had anything to do with it.

'Look,' he told me, 'I've not long come back from a place where women aren't exactly throwing themselves at you, and I needed a bit of sex. Angie offered and I took her up on it. Yes, I know she's not much more than a kid and George's kid at that, but I needed a fuck. It was a case of what was available when I needed it.'

'It's a good job you aren't queer then, isn't it? Or I'd be looking over my shoulder.'

I never saw the punch coming. The next thing I knew I was sitting on the floor with a pan full of hot mince beside me and a suddenly painful jaw. I shook my head, promptly wished I hadn't, and looked up in amazement.

'You deserved that,' Rhys told me, holding out his hand, 'now, would you like a hand up?'

You've seen them in the movies haven't you, where they sit and put a hand under their jaw and waggle it, to make sure it's not broken? Well, that was me, checking myself as well as trying to buy time to comprehend falling for such a sucker punch. I suppose I had earned that one with the unwarranted jibe I'd made, but it didn't make him my best friend all of a sudden, so I ignored his outstretched hand, rolled onto my hands and knees and lurched unsteadily to my feet under my own steam.

'All right, so maybe I shouldn't have said that, but you shouldn't treat any woman, let alone Angie, like a piece of street meat, no matter how short of a shag you might have been. It's chauvinistic arseholes like you who get men a bad name.'

'Don't push it, Gary,' he warned me, his tanned face darkening further. 'You might pay for your words in teeth if you don't watch it.'

'You might be bigger than me Rhys, and you might be harder than me. But don't threaten me, because I'm a fucking sight more devious than you and I have an extremely long memory, so you'll come off worse in the end.'

This was often true. I've always been of the 'don't get mad, get even' school of thought and I've been known to bide my time for years. I've never been much of a fighter, more a schemer, and I could wait if necessary. Even so, I was getting madder by the minute and I could feel my fists flexing by my side. We were standing squared up to each other in the kitchen as we traded threats, still surrounded by spilled mince and both breathing heavily from the adrenalin of the situation.

'Devious? You don't even know how to spell the word,' Rhys snorted ridicule. 'You wanna see devious? Watch this space.'

'Fucking back off, the pair of you. What do you think this is - the school playground?'

Angie's words pierced the red mist that was gathering as she marched into the kitchen, alerted no doubt by Willow and by the sound of a falling pan.

'Keep out of it Angie, it's nothing to do with you,' I told her, never taking my eyes off of Rhys.

'Oh, I think it is,' she contradicted me, 'I think it's my concern because I've let you two get into my bed.'

Rhys grinned triumphantly at her slip. 'Ah, so that's what this is about. You have been there too, and now you're jealous of me bedding your bitch. What's the matter, did you want to keep her to all to yourself?'

I launched myself forward, but quick as my reaction was, both Rhys and Angie beat me to it. Rhys dodged, smiling as he did so, stepping to the side as Angie inserted herself between us. The result was she collided with me and we both slipped on half cooked mince. This was twice I'd ended up on the floor and it was a habit I was eager to break.

'You might as well give up, Gary,' Rhys laughed, 'I'm way too good for you.'

I tried hard to come up with an answer to salvage my pride, but it was Angie who finished the exchange for us as we both climbed back to our feet.

'Yeah, and I'm way too good for you, so don't even dream of trying it on again. You'll have to look elsewhere for your sex from now on. This market has closed.'

'Don't worry,' he told her, the sting of rejection reflected in his voice. 'I'm set up. I've got a date for tonight with Karen's sister and I expect she'll come across as easily as you did.'

With that final snipe he turned and walked stiffly out of the kitchen. Karen was an ex of his, and had two younger twin sisters, Charlotte, aka 'Lottie', and Shannon. I stood in silent amazement wondering which sister it was, and how on earth had he managed to date her. They lived near his original family home, and that was miles away. He hadn't wasted time, had he?

In retrospect I was surprised at myself for having a go at Rhys, though I suppose really I was reacting to the things we needed to do and the lack of help I could expect from him. I couldn't even tell him about it now, because he'd only throw scorn and derisive disbelief at the very idea. His behaviour towards Angie was a good excuse for me to release some of my frustrations in his direction. She gave me a hand to clean up as well as to prepare a replacement for the wasted meal, although both tasks were performed mostly in silence because neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened and our ignominious slip on the greasy floor. Only once did Angie refer back to what had been said.

'What I said about the market being closed, Gary,' she said suddenly. 'It doesn't apply to you.'

'Thank you,' I told her, not sure of what else to say.

We went back to our own unspoken thoughts as we worked, but at least I felt a little better for knowing Angie didn't see me as the loser who couldn't stand up for himself, as I feared she might. Dinner was almost equally quiet, though from time to time we all made desultory attempts at small talk, hoping to disperse the atmosphere and start a family conversation, but it was not to be. Rhys and I said hardly a word to each other, and the ones we did say were the necessary ones like 'pass the salt', and even they lacked the courtesy of a 'please'. But then I suppose it was hardly surprising.

At the end of the meal Rhys rose to leave, turning back to the table to comment that as he was now going out for the evening we were free to talk. He didn't know what we'd seen earlier over at the church and, with some justification he put the strained mood down to Angie and his argument with me. The main reason, of course, had nothing to do with him; it was the curse that had been laid on the land on which our house now stood and the responsibility that had been placed on us to lift it. We spent much of the evening racking our brains trying to find either a way out or the best way to do what had been demanded of us. It wasn't just that we didn't want to be forced into cold hearted sex, we could cope with that if need be after what had been going on. It was more the risk of somebody finding out, most especially my mother and Angie's father, but other people too for that matter. We were well aware of the contempt in which the Jacksons were still held locally and we had no wish to be looked on in the same light. We were pretty desperate, and some of the solutions proposed during the course of the evening showed that. I won't say who suggested what, because it wouldn't be fair, but the idea was even mooted that we should set fire to the place and burn it down, something that would only transfer the curse to the next building on the site. When it came down to it we had no choice but do as the curse on our home required.

About half way through the evening I rang June and told her what we'd discovered. The one thing that did give me a lift that evening was her sympathetic 'poor you' that she obviously meant. At least I still had her on my side and I'd been scared that I wouldn't have. I was so looking forward to seeing her again.

I think we all knew that sleep was not going to be an easy commodity that night, because we stayed up later than usual, sitting in front of a television that we weren't actually watching. We traded the occasional remark about the programs, but none of us really took any notice of them, gloomy and distasteful thoughts still dominating our minds. Nobody wanted to talk openly about things, but neither could we get them out of our heads. It was a long and depressing evening before we all eventually decided that enough was enough and we ought to turn in.

Angie had gone back to clear away the last coffee cups and I was standing in the corridor outside the bathroom waiting for Willow to come out when the slamming of taxi doors followed by muffled laughter and girlish giggling announced that Rhys had arrived home, bringing someone with him. My heart sank. The last thing I needed was another confrontation with him.

I needn't have worried. Both of them had been drinking and both of them were in a happy mood, giggling childishly as they stumbled their way up the stairs.

'Hey there brother,' Rhys called out as he reached the landing and saw me standing there. 'You know Shannon, don't you?'

Shannon was slightly the taller of the twins, dark haired and tanned with piercingly blue eyes and a model figure. Without a doubt she was a very beautiful girl, and I must confess to a moment's envy seeing her with Rhys.

'Hello Gary,' she said, leaning heavily against my brother.

'Hello Shannon. What brings you to this part of the country?'

'Oh, didn't we get around to telling you?' she said it in such a way as to imply my stupidity for not knowing. 'Both me and Lottie are at the university now and we've got rooms in town near the station.'

Her disdainful tone drove all jealous thoughts from my mind. I didn't want a confrontation, but I wasn't an easy mark either. 'Really,' I answered, feigning surprise, 'I didn't think you'd manage to pass your exams.'

Two can play at the sarcasm game. Rhys shot a sharp look at me and Shannon clamped her lips tightly together, before Angie came out of the kitchen behind them and they both turned around to greet her. She beat them to it.

'Hi Rhys. I see you've brought your own mattress with you tonight.'

I was gleefully shocked at Angie's barb. Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but then realised that nearly any answer would be tantamount to admitting bedding Angie and slammed it shut it again. The dark look on his face and Angie's triumphant smirk were well worth seeing. Shannon was busy ostentatiously comparing Angie's jeans and trainers with her own tight lycra slacks, and appeared not to have heard the remark at all.

At that point Willow emerged from the bathroom, and Shannon took the easy escape route. 'Ah, thanks Will,' she said, darting through the open bathroom door, 'I need a pee and I was wondering where it was.'

The door closed and I was left once more waiting for a female to emerge. On reflection I decided that my teeth could manage without being brushed for one evening and as the girls headed for their rooms I followed their example, leaving Rhys and his girlfriend to their own devices. At least I could be pretty certain that he wouldn't be hearing voices in the night.

I undressed and slipped into bed, put out the light and stared up at the unseen ceiling. I didn't want to, but I lay there racking my brains once more trying to figure out what to do. If Ma realised what was happening here, and that Angie had had sex with either Rhys or me, or both, then all hell would break loose, and she was a very astute woman. She would very quickly pick up on the vibes here and equally quickly put two and two together, especially if the house was still active or Rhys was vindictively loudmouthed. While I lay on my back mulling things over, sex was about the last thing on my mind, and yet of its own accord my hand found its way to my cock and I began gently playing with myself. I wasn't wanking, simply playing, and almost without realising it. I realised what I was doing when the pleasurable sensations began to influence my thoughts, and I remembered doing this before, only to think of Angie. It had been quite a shock at the time, because that was when the house first made me fancy her, but now I'd got used to that idea and the immorality it involved no longer bothered me. In fact, I thought as my hand travelled up and down my shaft, she was good in bed, unselfish, sharing pleasure with her partner and even giving more than she took. I groaned very softly to myself at the memory of the first time my cock had slipped into her vagina, and my spare hand reached down to cup my balls. I had to admit it, sex with the girls had not been such a bad idea at all, and I had Abbey Farm to thank for it.

My mind's eye pictured Angie lying naked on her bed, looking so damn sexy with her shaven haven, full breasts and lovely soft curves. Yes, maybe she was a tad heavier than fashion dictated, but that merely made her less angular and more feminine. And anyway, she couldn't help her build, she was a younger female version of her father, same build, same colouring, same everything. I was getting thoroughly fed up with spending almost every night wanking, but my hand began working more determinedly on my cock. I wasn't playing now, I was wanking properly, my fingers gripping my steel hard shaft, running over my tip, trying to bring myself off. Why would it be a problem to have Angie on that old stone? The idea of fucking her on an ancient altar suddenly appealed, a kind of ceremonial fuck that would seal our improbable relationship and make it okay. Yes, I would do it, and enjoy it just as she would. I could almost hear her moaning as my cock rammed into her. I really could hear a woman moaning, but it wasn't Angie, the sound was for real and it was coming from across the way. Rhys and Shannon were busy having sex and my brain had heard her moans of pleasure and interwoven them into my thoughts.

Fuck this house. I suddenly understood that it had been at work on me again, preparing me to have sex on that bloody altar, making me want it, and getting me ready to ignore rules of morality that would have to be broken once more. I let go of my cock as if it had become red hot in the literal rather than metaphorical sense, and rolled onto my side. The curse would have to be lifted, it simply wasn't feasible to live in a house that could play with your mind in this way. I knew I'd have to go along with its wishes, and it had just reinforced that knowledge