Through the Gate of Horns

By V. R. Wilson

Having picked up her friend, Josie, at the station, Lorne hopes for an uneventful drive to Waydon where they will link up with five friends for a reunion weekend. While living in Brasilia, they had become a close group.

During a stop on their journey, a chance meeting with a smart young woman almost makes Josie faint from shock. This leads the woman to introduce herself as Arina Aubel and she insists that Josie and Lorne join her for tea to allow Josie to recover.

Back in the car, Josie tells Lorne that the woman’s face was identical to that of a woman she saw in a recurring dream, though its scene was some two hundred years before. Could the dream be a prophecy and if so, was Arina in danger? When later they see Arina accosted by an angry man, Josie becomes convinced that her dream has a purpose. This belief strengthens as a result of a local rumour heard about the premises Arina is directed to and the man’s quick exit after guiding her there.

As a result of all they have witnessed, Josie persuades Lorne that they have to become amateur sleuths. They stumbled upon organised criminal activity, but had those involved murdered Arina? How close the events will prove to be a re-enactment of the dream? Was it a prophecy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jan 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398410169

V. R. Wilson

V. R. Wilson’s working life was short but varied…although academically and professionally she is well qualified. Family health issues brought her back to North Wales. Through being appointed to various public bodies, however, her interests and knowledge widened greatly. With a liking for travel, time for writing—which she started in 2011—has been scarce; however, with an interest in projects and issues she is continuing whilst fighting cancer.

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About the Author

After graduating from Aberystwyth University, V. R. Wilson gained further academic and professional qualifications through part-time study. Her working career, which was varied, was cut short as she assumed a caring role for her parents and then her husband.

Membership of various public bodies has widened her interest and knowledge and kept her busy. This has meant that spare time to write is less than she would like.

Her hobbies are reading, puzzles, entertaining friends and travelling. The people met along her life’s bumpy road have been the tonic she has valued.

Dedication

In memory of my late husband still deeply mourned.

Copyright Information ©

V. R. Wilson 2022

The right of V. R. Wilson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398410152 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398410169 (ePub e-book)

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First Published 2022

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Chapter One

Lorne was at her small local train station to meet her friend Josie in response to a request made only the previous evening. They were due to meet later in the day, in any case, having arranged to join five other friends for a long weekend at The Old Rectory at Waydon. Actually, Lorne had been quite pleased at the thought of having company for the hundred-mile onward journey. However, she continued to doubt Josie’s claim that her late change of travel arrangements was due to trouble with her brand new car. This reason, without any expansion upon it, had made Lorne believe it was just an excuse because her friend wanted her company on some visit, or detour, that she wished on route. Should her intuition be wrong, she had promised herself to utter an apology to Josie quietly in her mind. This thought, namely an unspoken apology, had made her smile as she got out of the car to walk to the relevant platform to check if the train was on schedule.

Before she got to see the overhead information board, a station announcement had boomed out that the train due on Platform Two was running twenty minutes late as a result of an earlier incident on the line. Immediately, it was clear that this news had displeased greatly one of the waiting passengers who on seeing a railway employee had accosted him demanding to know whether the incident story was true or just an excuse. Considering the man’s rude and aggressive manner, plus his quite unnecessary swearing in making his inquiry, the employee had remained remarkably calm and dignified as he explained that, sadly, a young woman’s suicide on the track had disrupted schedules.

How damnably and bloody inconsiderate of her, had been the passenger’s response, along with some other mutterings about the inconvenience such a selfish action would cause him.

Almost unable to believe that she had witnessed such insensitivity, Lorne had hurried back to her car. Not for a moment had the man thought about the unfortunate train driver, nor had he considered the obvious despair which had driven the young woman to end her life in such a way. Still, Lorne had not dwelt on this particular occurrence as she sat to wait, although it did prompt her to reflect on how unpredictable life could be. Surprises could be good or bad; life’s journey had unexpected twists and turns with varying consequences.

The way she and her late husband Paul had met was very much what might be described as a chance encounter. Both had arrived at a London hotel at the same time and having checked in found themselves waiting together for the lift to take them, as it happened, to the same floor, the fourteenth. They had got talking, and clearly, something clicked. They agreed to dine together, an arrangement that had been repeated each evening during their stay in the Capital, both there on business. Thereafter, further meetings had been hard to arrange because they lived and worked at opposite ends of the country. Consequently, knowing they wanted to be together, they had married quietly four months later, a decision never regretted.

The likelihood of them meeting, let alone falling in love and marrying, would not have been something anyone would have placed a bet on happening. Lorne also doubted that anyone, even they themselves, would have guessed that eighteen years into the marriage, Paul would come home from work one day and announce that the company for which he worked wanted him to consider moving to live in Brasilia for a couple of years. The post on offer had meant promotion but this also meant more responsibilities and challenges as the holder of the new position would oversee the firm’s developing interests across the continent of South America. Even though there was much to tempt them to an immediate acceptance, they had pondered long and hard before agreeing to this life-changing step. In fact, only after they had gone and spent a month in the city, which was to become their base, had Paul accepted the position and its many challenges.

The six years which afterwards they spent in Brazil’s capital, Brasilia, had been very interesting ones mainly through the people they met and the opportunities it gave them to travel around the other twelve countries of South America, particularly during Paul’s first year in his post. Whenever possible, he had encouraged Lorne to accompany him. From when a school girl, she had been fascinated by the Continent’s music, and while she had been familiar with the geography, Lorne, like Paul, had little knowledge of the native inhabitants nor of the history prior to the Conquistadores and even little thereafter. This omission, both had tried to remedy very quickly. With regard to their Portuguese and Spanish, however, she would concede that their ability in both languages never got better than passable.

If truthful, Lorne would have to admit also that neither she nor Paul developed any real attachment to Brasilia as a city. This purpose-built capital of Brazil was founded on April 21, 1960, and fulfilled a promise made in two of the country’s constitutions, namely to establish a central situation for the country’s government, legislation and administration. The modern architecture of the city has been described as ‘unique’ and its ‘artistic urban planning’ has led to it being designated an UNESCO World Heritage Site. Yet, for Paul and Lorne, it was these much-acclaimed features which made it a city without a soul. For them, it was a conurbation too young to have developed a history or character. Both had favoured another description the place had been given, that ‘it was a city of elegant monotony’.

There was nothing humdrum nor monotonous, however, about the great number of events and concerts held throughout the year. People were friendly, and foreign nationals looked after one another. As a result, their social life had become busy quite rapidly. Becoming acquainted with Josie helped greatly. She introduced them to others whom they were both on their way to meet, all once again resident in the UK. This had speeded up their assimilation into the life of the exiled contingent in Brazil’s capital. It was the attachment to their group of eight special friends which had made it easier for Paul and Lorne to stay on for a third, fourth and fifth year. The sixth year of residence, however, had come about not from choice but had been imposed somewhat by unexpected circumstances and at the very last minute. Sadly, Lorne continued to wonder if Paul’s job had not contributed to the arterial thrombosis of which he had died at the age of just fifty-two and that if back in the UK and not out in the Amazonian jungle, help would have been nearer at hand. At the same time, she accepted that Josie too might claim ‘if only’. If only she and Luis had not gone on holiday to New Orleans, they would not have found themselves in the ‘wrong place at the wrong time’. A shot from a passing car intended for someone else ricocheted off the wall and killed Luis instantly. Worse still, the killer remained at large and five years had passed.

Her thoughts about Josie’s tragedy ended Lorne’s reflections and led her to look at her watch and to realise she had better hurry towards the platform again. The delayed train had just come to a stop as she arrived, and Josie was alighting from the last of the three carriages. The first thing people noticed about her friend was her lovely smile above which her dark eyes glistened, all indicating her positive attitude to life. Lorne knew that, as always, the warmth of Josie’s greeting was genuine and that her friendship was true and faithful. Although all their group of friends in Brasilia had helped her greatly to sort things out and to repatriate when Paul died, Josie’s empathy and support still stood out.

Chapter Two

When in the car and leaving the station, Josie had inquired as to whether Lorne was aware of the reason for the train’s late arrival. Her affirmative response gave her the opportunity to express disgust at the angry passenger’s reaction when told.

Some people have no heart. They are just egocentric and selfish, Josie had responded with much feeling.

Might it be that they have not been touched by any ill luck or tragedy to develop some awareness and empathy towards others? Lorne had ventured hoping the reply would lead to discussion. Not for one moment did she believe that you had to have experienced some difficulty or loss to show sympathy, although personal exposure to adversity and misfortune did heighten understanding and compassion.

I know that you don’t believe what you just said to me to try and excuse the man’s attitude. You said it to try and provoke a debate on the subject of compassion, desperation and despair. You miss having Paul around to talk to and to argue and discuss things with, out of fun or seriously. We were both robbed of good men but that’s life. At times it isn’t fair. Yet we have so much for which to be grateful.

Amen to that, Lorne had retorted before suggesting: Perhaps we should change the subject and choose a lighter topic like the weather. It promises it will be dry and pleasant if somewhat cool. Remember this time last year when the heavens tried to drown us during our stay at The Old Rectory?

Josie well recalled her own drive home when detours had been necessary to avoid the floods and the debris the wind and rain had left in their wake. It was not the memory of her journey which made her smile but Lorne’s choice of topic suggested only in jest but which she proceeded to consider seriously by stating:

Without the good old weather to talk about, strangers might not say anything to anyone. Just noting that it is hot or cold, terribly wet or far too dry, usually achieves a response. In fact, I believe that most people would offer some relevant comment about the situation. What is more, I’m confident that the topic might be claimed in many instances to have been the ‘ICE BREAKER’ from which further conversation ensued and romance started to blossom!

I was wondering how long it would take you to mention the phrase ‘Ice Breaker’, Lorne had remarked, ignoring the premise Josie had made about romance blossoming. Instead, she had gone on to note:

When you think about it, there are quite a number of commonly used sayings which refer to the weather or weather conditions like… her slight hesitation allowing Josie to finish her sentence with a number of examples like Rain check, brain storm, cold shoulder and climate of opinion.

Not to be outdone, Lorne had added: Fair weather friends, making heavy weather of, and keeping a weather eye open, following which she had posed a question as to whether Josie had heard of the phrase ‘The Queen’s Weather’. To be told that she had not, did not surprise for Lorne had to admit that it was a phrase new to her as well until a month before when attending a local fete on a very lovely day.

Before Josie could voice any query, Lorne had started to explain that it came into use when it was noticed that whenever Queen Victoria appeared in public, she was nearly always fortunate in having fine weather. As a result, any fete or big event blessed with sun and not wind and rain was described as having ‘THE QUEEN’S WEATHER’, the phrase being uttered in unison. After this there had been a short spell of silence to allow Lorne to concentrate on negotiating a complicated section of the road, a renowned accident spot at which they found more traffic than might have been expected. The treble junction necessitated the crossing of lanes to get to the right exits for their onward journey. Once through, Josie had been quick to say ‘well done’ for getting them through what she considered an obstacle course.

Then, in offering Lorne a mint, Josie had asked if she knew why Grace and Gordon had chosen a return visit to The Old Rectory for their autumn get-together. The others like her, obviously, had not minded, or had there been a specific request from one of them? Her questions, Josie admitted, were prompted by pure curiosity.

Like you, I didn’t ask. I merely presumed the choice was based on the fact that last October it was fine when we arrived and again on the day we left, while in between, the weather could only be described as atrocious. Moreover, we all regretted not seeing the area’s beautiful scenery or any of the historic sites and noted grand houses. Remember also that David was not with us, so he might have suggested to Gordon that we try our luck again. Actually, I’m rather pleased to return. The food was good and not many small hotels have an indoor swimming pool.

The mention of David had led them to express sympathy with his sad situation of having his wife Caroline, fourteen years his junior, confined to a home because of her mental condition. What made this worse was that the need had arisen when she was only forty years of age which meant that she had been incarcerated for seven years already. Fortunately for David, he and Caroline were in the UK on a visit, staying with her parents, when the psychotic breakdown occurred. Both Caroline’s father and David had been lucky only to be slashed and not stabbed when Caroline raged brandishing a carving knife.

I gather that she remains beautiful though violent when not sedated, Josie had stated sadly. Her parents have urged David to get a divorce because she will never recover. Is his loyalty misplaced as it leaves him in limbo? I believe his tragedy is worse than ours.

This was not the first time Lorne had heard Josie say this which in a way was true. He had lost Caroline but without a death to bring closure. Both acknowledged, somewhat sadly, that the news about Caroline’s confinement had not been something that they had found totally impossible to believe. This stemmed from the fact that when in Brasilia, the group were well aware of how moody and erratic Caroline could be. They attributed her behaviour to having been spoilt as a child and to being even more indulged by her doting husband who had been far too forgiving of her conduct when in a bad mood. If her humour when with the group had been rather capricious, there would be an apology from her not long afterwards. Inevitably, it would include some version of the old dictum: ‘when I’m good, I’m very good (and lovely), when I’m bad, I’m (very nasty and) horrid’. Therein lay the reason which probably explained everyone’s tolerance, namely when ‘very good’ she was indeed ‘very lovely’ and absolutely charming. She was interesting to talk to and knowledgeable, especially about flowers and plants in general. The use of colour and its meaning in the art of the old masters was another subject about which she knew a great deal.

I think we all said at some time that Caroline and David were… an ill-matched couple, an observation Lorne had stated with some hesitation being unsure as to what description suited best. Much as I like David, and I know that he would help any of the group if asked or saw a need, I am not sure that I really know him. To me, he is like an iceberg; we know what is seen on the surface, outwardly shown, while much about him lies hidden beneath. There’s a side or depth to him that I believe none of us have truly fathomed, if that makes sense.

Lorne’s view of David as an enigma was based on the fact that when asked about his work, he stated that he was a freelance news gatherer and correspondent but never expanded on this. Whatever he did appeared profitable, and he was certainly aware of what was happening all around. For a man who was not naturally outgoing, he had many acquaintances not only in Brasilia and Rio but elsewhere on the continent as well. He was a good listener and observer, happy to allow others to be the most vocal. Yet when he got talking, his wide knowledge soon became evident. It had been Paul who had drawn Lorne’s attention to how skilfully and subtly David got information out of people, never pushing too far to alert anyone that they might have said too much. In jest, they had wondered if he was some kind of spy!

It’s the mystery about him that I find charming, that element of… well, he undoubtedly adds that something different to the group. Let’s face it, we are a disparate varied set of people, but the dynamics work which is what counts..

Noticing that Lorne was smiling, Josie had queried whether it was her use of the term ‘dynamics’ which had amused her? In a way it was, but really her smile had been prompted by the fact that Josie had used the very words to describe the group that she had in mind. All that she wished to add was that it was so warming that the friendship of this ‘mottled’ band of which they were members had even strengthened on returning to the UK.

The pattern of meeting up at least twice a year had begun when they all met up to greet Grace and Gordon on their return to Britain following Gordon’s retirement from his University post. Brasilia had been their home for twenty-five years, a longer period of time than anyone else in the group. However, the couple had settled back to life in England very quickly and almost immediately had reassumed what Lorne called ‘their caring oversight of the group’. It had been their suggestion to meet up at regular intervals, and in agreeing, everyone had nominated the couple to be the organisers of their trips. This responsibility the couple had accepted without any persuasion provided that ideas as to where to meet, at home or abroad, were forthcoming from all of them. So far, the arrangement had worked well.

Whilst, if she had been given a chance, Lorne would have explained her smile, the opportunity was snatched from her when Josie noted the road signs and hurriedly requested that Lorne exited the motorway at the next slip road because she would like them to make a detour. It was something that Lorne had awaited from the start of their journey, and on hearing Josie’s request, her smile had broadened.

I knew it! I just knew it! Lorne had exclaimed smugly, pleased that her intuition had been right and that no mental apology would be needed. From the moment I put the phone down after talking to you last evening, I was positive that you had some plan up your sleeve that would take us away from the main route, so come on let me have the details. Where do you want to go? Please note, I promised Gordon I would be at The Old Rectory by four o’clock.

Except that it sounded like something Gordon would have said, Josie would have challenged such a deadline as a fib. It would have pleased her as she confessed to have stated there was no such deadline laid out, merely to compensate for having been so easy to read; that was a disappointment. Still, she should have known that Lorne’s intuition about things was pretty infallible.

I bet you want us to head for some place that Ingrid, your sister-in-law, hopefully with John in tow, has boasted about.

Right again, but that’s no surprise, Josie had said somewhat dismissively, but don’t worry, it only means a few extra miles. It will be all worth it, for I hope we can have a light snack there in what has been described as luxurious surroundings. My treat, of course.

Why, thank you, and so what grand spa establishment did Ingrid go to this time?

Before the name of their destination was given, however, Josie had told Lorne that even her brother John had praised the place. On this occasion, he had accompanied his wife as while she was indulging in all the beauty and pampering treatments on offer, he had been able to play golf. Moreover, on this sortie south from Scotland, they had detoured to visit Josie but only, according to her, to boast about their stay at Holston Castle, Golf and Spa Hotel. What annoyed Josie most about her sister-in-law, beside her propensity for boasting, was that Ingrid had an obsessive need to keep on looking young which drove her to undergo every cosmetic procedure on offer. According to the woman herself, she suffered all the pain involved to