William stood in the doorway.
‘I heard a scream, what’s
going on?’ He paused, staring at the two sisters and then around the room, his
gaze lingering on the smoking candles. ‘What
are you doing Queenie?’ he demanded advancing across the glass strewn carpet
towards them.
She paused before
answering and stared at him curiously. ‘So that’s what happened, well, well, I
wasn’t expecting this.’
Sybil looked at her
puzzled. ‘What do you mean dear?’
‘William, we needed
William.’ They both stared at their elderly friend who was gazing at them
perplexed.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’
Gordon put his arm around Kitty who was shivering uncontrollably and led her
towards the door. ‘We’re leaving and this time we’re not coming back.’
‘You can’t go now!’
‘Queenie!’ he turned on
her. ‘Look at my wife!’ he shouted. ‘Look
what you’ve done to her.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said
William anxiously. ‘What do you mean you’re not coming back?’ he followed them
to the door and laid a restraining hand on Gordon’s shoulder. ‘What’s going on
here?’
Gordon looked across the
room at Queenie. ‘She can explain.’
Queenie nodded. ‘I will
explain but not here, let’s find some neutral ground to have a chat. Come on Sybil.’ She gathered up the fallen jar
and put it back into her bag. ‘We need to have a talk with William.’
The two sisters followed
him out into the hall where Gordon and Kitty were waiting impatiently for them.
Gordon hesitated before
opening the door. ‘Do you think it’s safe?’ and stared anxiously at the two old
women.
Sybil nodded slowly and
took William’s arm. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I heard an awful noise
and then I heard screaming, was that you Kitty?’
William peered into
Kitty’s tear streaked face, she stared blankly at him before managing a weak
smile.
‘Are you alright?’ He took
her hand in his work roughened one and squeezed it gently. ‘What’s been
happening here?’ he asked anxiously.
Her face crumpled and she
sobbed out ‘It’s Robert, he’s here.’
‘I don’t understand, Robert
who?’
‘Your grandfather.’
He looked at her blankly
and then looked at Sybil. ‘What’s she talking about?’
Sybil gently pushed the
three out of the door. ‘In a minute William, we’ll explain outside.’ She turned to her sister who was following
close behind. ‘Shall we go back to my cottage? I think that would be best don’t
you?’
Queenie nodded in
agreement and banged the door shut behind her.
They walked slowly along
the drive to the lane; time had passed since they had driven up to Orchard
Cottage and it was now dark, the night sky was filled with winking stars and
high up on Castle Hill a fox barked.
‘Right, down to Sybil’s
Gordon,’ Queenie said firmly.
‘No,’ he replied sharply.
‘That’s it! We’re out of here; we’re not getting involved in any more of this.’
‘Now let’s calm down a
minute, I want to know what’s going on and what my grandfather has to do with
this.’ The old man had stopped and stood in front of them determined to get an
answer.
‘This is a story that
shouldn’t be told in a dark lane William,’ said Sybil taking hold of his arm
and pulling him towards the village.
‘Well let’s go into the
farmhouse then,’ he said impatiently. ‘It’s closer.’
‘No,’ Kitty put in weakly.
‘Not in there, sorry,’ she apologised to the old man. ‘But you see it’s his
house.’
‘Kitty is right we
shouldn’t set foot in there.’ Queenie warned. ‘Sybil’s cottage will do. Come along.’
She led the way along the darkened lane until
they came close to the entrance of the farmyard. She slowed to a halt, from
across the paved yard came the sound of approaching footsteps, footsteps that
Kitty immediately recognised.
‘Who’s that?’ bristled
William. ‘Hi,’ he shouted striding forward, pushing past Queenie who put out a
restraining hand, but he brushed impatiently it aside. ‘Who’s there? You’re
trespassing.’
His voice echoed around the buildings but the
footsteps did not slow, they drew closer and closer to the group huddled in the
lane.
‘It’s him,’ whispered
Kitty trying to pull away from Gordon’s tightening grip. ‘It’s him
Queenie,’ she hissed
again.
Queenie nodded in
recognition. ‘Yes Kitty it is,’ she said quietly. She raised her voice ‘Well Robert?
What are you going to do now eh?’
William glanced at her
quickly before returning his gaze to the entrance of the yard.
A dark shape slid into the
shadows of the wall, and as they watched it gathered itself together pulling in
the darkness of the night and becoming more solid.
A figure walked slowly out from the shelter of
the wall and stood in the middle of the lane and raised his head. Dark sunken
eyes stared across the intervening space between him and his grandson.
‘Oh my God!’ whispered
William in horror. ‘It is him.’
The old man staggered back
and would have fallen if Gordon hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him.
‘William, are you
alright?’ Sybil whispered to him urgently gripping his other arm to support
him.
‘What in God’s name is
this? He’s dead!’ William’s voice echoed around the lane making the apparitions
face wince.
Queenie took a few paces forward
and peered at the shade of Robert Beamish.
‘So that’s it! William is
the key,’ she said triumphantly. She turned back quickly to the others. ‘Back
to the house, all of you.’
‘Are
you mad woman? We’re not going back in there,’ Gordon shouted at her.
He stared at the figure in the lane and
watched in horror as it approached slowly towards them.
Queenie pulled Kitty back
towards the house. ‘You have no choice now, he’s not going to stop. He’ll come
after Kitty where ever she is.’
‘You don’t know that,’ he
shot at her.
‘Look at him!’ Queenie
shouted at him. ‘He is on the road! This road doesn’t belong to the Beamish
family, it never has done. He’s not on his own soil!’
They backed slowly away
down the lane to the entrance of the drive, William last of all. He stood
frozen to the spot staring at his grandfather’s form approaching along the
road.
Sybil pulled at his arm.
‘Come on William,’ she shouted at him.
‘I thought I had forgotten
him,’ he whispered. ‘But one look at his face and it has all come back.’
Clouds drifted across the
night sky casting even darker shadows onto the road but the shadow of Robert
Beamish was darker still as he paced slowly forward; the regular thump of the stick
hitting the tarmac echoing off the buildings.
Gordon slammed and locked
the door once they were all inside. ‘What the hell are we going to do?’
‘Calmly Gordon,’ Queenie
urged him. Taking Kitty’s arm she pulled her back into the sitting room. ‘We’ll
start again and this time we have William and we won’t fail.’
‘What difference is he
going to make?’
Sybil pulled him and
William into place around Kitty.
‘Don’t you see? This time one of his own blood
will be casting him out.’
He looked at William’s
shocked face. ‘Will he be alright to do that?’
‘Well, are you going to
help Kitty?’ she asked William.
He shook himself and
looked back at her.
‘That man was the devil
incarnate, I will stop him,’ he said firmly. ‘He made my father’s life hell and
I thought I was rid of him,’ he paused and added, ‘And this time I will be rid
of him.’
He leant forward and gave
Kitty an awkward hug. ‘I don’t know what the hell is happening but if Sybil and
Queenie say that I have to do this then I will, they’ve been giving me orders
since I was a child and it’s a habit hard to break.’
Queenie refilled the jar
and placed three red berries in the salted water.
‘Rowan berries,’ she
explained then gave the half filled jar to Kitty. ‘Good for you William, now hold onto it this
time Kitty and we’ll start again.’
‘What about the candles
sis?’
‘No time for that now,’
she pushed her damp hair away from her face. ‘Surround Kitty you three.’
Kitty shivered slightly and
held the jar tightly to her chest. Gordon was breathing deeply as he stared
around the room. The lights were still high and bright and no shadows had
appeared in the corners.
‘Perhaps he won’t come
back,’ he said hopefully looking at Queenie.
She cocked her head
listening to the noises outside; the sound of the fox barking on the hill was
carried by the breeze that blew in through the broken window.
Slow footsteps approached
the house.
‘He’s coming,’ she said
calmly.
Sybil reached out and
grasped Gordon’s hand and took William’s hand to form a circle around Kitty.
‘Remember to imagine
yourself surrounded by the blue light.’
They nodded in response
and gripped each other’s hands. Gordon looked at his wife’s face, it was very
pale but she looked determined. She caught him looking at her and smiled
slightly in response.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Okay, it begins,’ said
Queenie.
The breeze blowing in
through the shattered windows became colder and stronger, whirling around the
figures in the centre of the room, whipping their clothes and hair around them.
But their hands held firm and they stayed in place, surrounding Kitty.
Her breath plumed out in front of her face and
out the corner of her eye she could see a dark shadow rising in the corner of
the room. As it grew, the lights dipped lower and lower until Kitty could only
just make out Queenies face in front of her. Kitty gripped the jar firmly.
‘Now after me, Saint
Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against
the wickedness and snares of the Devil,
May God rebuke him, we
humbly pray.
And do thou, O Prince of
the heavenly hosts thrust into Hell
Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl
through the world
seeking the ruin of souls...Amen.’
The shadow wavered and
flowed around the walls of the room as they repeated the prayer after Queenie.
William’s voice rang out with each word and each word making the shadow tremble
and shudder.
She reached into her
pocket and pulled out the bag of thorns.
‘Thou demon presence be no
more,’ she called out against the buffeting wind and dropped a thorn into the
water. As it hit the holy water a low groan rose from the ground beneath the
house and grew in strength until it shrieked and raged around the room, homing
in on Kitty, swirling around and around her until she could hardly breathe. The
jar jerked in her hand and she clutched at it desperately.
‘Hold it tight Kitty,’
Gordon shouted at her.
Queenie reached across the
linked hands and dropped another thorn into the water.
‘Thou demon presence be no more.’
The groaning and shrieking
grew and Kitty’s shoulders slumped under a huge weight that began pressing on
her and she fell to her knees.
‘Guardians of the spirit
realm, hear us and guide us, remove all evil from our path and let your
presence protect us, we beg you,’ Queenie shouted.
She reached forward and tried to pull Kitty to
her feet.
‘Stand up, come on,’
Queenie urged, but the wind continued to buffet her kneeling figure.
Kitty cried out, ‘Help me
I can’t do this.’
They stared in consternation
at Kitty kneeling on the floor.
‘Get up,’ they urged her. ‘Come on you can do
it.’
She shook her head
weeping, terrified of the black shadows that were whirling and shrieking around
her. Kitty closed her eyes in anguish and then felt a gentle touch on her hand,
her eyelids flickered opened and she could see a pair of child’s hands over
hers on the jar. The child smiled encouragingly at her and tightened her grip
pulling Kitty to her feet. The tiny figure stood in front of her, insubstantial
but yet she could feel her touch and feel the child’s breath on her face. The
little girl smiled at her and nodded encouragingly, shadows moved across her
face changing it subtly, aging it until Kitty recognised the lined face.
One that she knew so well.
Her face changed again
reverting to her younger self. Ava smiled again and pressed Kitty’s hands
tightly over the jar.
Queenie reached over their
joined hands and dropped in the final thorn.
‘What is dark be filled
with light,
remove this evil from our
sight,
I bless this house in the
name of God and banish all evil from this place,
in the name of God.’
The shadows wavered; a
shrieking groan echoed around the room and then faded sinking into silence.
The room was still dark
apart from the shaft of light that was Ava. The rainbow colours that made up
her form danced and flickered in front of Kitty. Her face came in and out of
focus with just her eyes remaining steady, fixed on her great grand-daughter.
‘It’s great- granny,’ Kitty
whispered, her eyes spilling over with tears. Without thinking she relaxed her
grip on the jar and it began to tilt, the precious holy water draining out of
the top. Ava’s spirit shook her head in warning and she realised with a start
that he had not gone. If her great- grandmother was still with her and then so
must Robert.
Kitty looked away from Ava
and stared at the others. ‘Careful,’ she whispered.
Queenie nodded looking
around the room.
‘Is he gone, is that it?
Gordon looked across at Kitty. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked anxiously.
She nodded. The breeze had
dropped but the room was still freezing, they were all shivering from the shock
and cold.
William released his grip
on Sybil’s hand and wiped a shaking hand over his face.
‘Thank goodness it’s stopped.’ He touched
Sybil gently on the shoulder. ‘Are you alright?’
She nodded. ‘It’s okay
William, we’re doing fine but,’ she said glancing across at her sister. ‘I
don’t think it’s over yet, is it?’
Queenie shook her head.
‘No, look at the jar,’ she said quietly.
The water in the jar was
still clear and empty apart from the rose thorns and the red rowan berries.
‘He’s proving to be a bit
more difficult than I had thought,’ she muttered.
‘What are you saying?’
blurted out Gordon. ‘Can’t you deal with him?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she rushed to
reassure him. ‘But we must be on our guard, he’s not finished yet.’
‘You’re right,’ hissed
Sybil. ‘Look behind you!’
Just behind Queenie a
black spot appeared hovering just inches above the floor, the stink of rotting flesh
grew stronger and a low moaning and scratching noise came from the centre of
the expanding shadow.
A low guttural voice
whispered ‘Bitch...bitch...not on my
soil....not here...slut of a child.’
Kitty gagged and began to
retch as the foul stink grew stronger around her.
Queenie jumped at the
first sound of the voice and turned to face it.
The shadow coiled and
writhed growing in size until it reached the ceiling and then began to sink
back down condensing into a cloudy figure.
‘Robert, you have no business
here,’ she commanded him.
‘Witch....’ it muttered. ‘Witch...not
on my soil.....slut...child’
She reached into her
pocket and pulled out a jar of salt and scattered a handful across the carpet
in front of him.
‘I bless this house in the
name of God,
I banish all evil spirits from this house, in
the name of God.’
She raised her hand and
threw the rest of the salt into the whispering shadow. It parted as the salt hit
and then flowed back together; a hissing noise came from inside the mass of
shadows and then the sound of chill laughter.
They all froze and Queenie
staggered back as though hit by an unseen blow.
‘Bitch....old woman....stupid bitch....my soil.’
She backed slowly to the
group behind her.
Sybil whispered to her
‘Are you okay?’
Queenie shook her head,
sweat stood out on her forehead and her whole body was quivering.
‘Queenie,’ wavered Kitty.
‘What are we going to do?’
There was a second unseen
blow and Queenie fell to her knees holding up her hands to protect her face as
she gasped out, ‘I adjure thee, most evil spirit, by almighty God, begone!’
The shadowy figure did not
halt; it slid slowly forward and flowed around her, engulfing her shaking body
until she was almost hidden from sight.
‘No!’ wailed Sybil
releasing her grip of the two men’s hands, she threw herself towards her sister
on the ground.
‘Sybil!’ William shouted
as the two sisters were lost in the shadow. A scream was heard from inside as
they were thrown violently to the side of the room.
‘Sybil, no!’ he pulled
Gordon forward and thrust him towards Kitty. ‘Look after her,’ and staggered
forward to the two still figures lying on the carpet.
Looming over them stood
Robert Beamish, fully formed and visible.
William faced the spectre
of his grandfather.
To one side the spirit of Ava
appeared and slowly on the other side of the old man another flickering shape
appeared. He was hardly aware of the two figures flanking him, he stared into
Robert’s face, a mirror image of his own but so different in nature.
‘No,’ William said firmly.
‘I can’t allow you to do this. Go! You’re not wanted here.’
The form of Robert writhed
in the face of his accusing stare and mouthed silently at him.
‘No I won’t listen to
you,’ William shouted. ‘You were an evil old bastard, and damn it you still
are! Go away and leave us in peace.’
‘Mine.. .’ he whispered glaring malevolently at William. ‘Mine....mine,’ it got louder with each
word until it was shrieking ‘Mine... mine...’
‘You stupid old man, this
isn’t your land, it’s mine! Mine! Do you hear me?’William shouted into his grandfather’s
face. ‘You do not belong here, you are not welcome. These are my friends; I
will not allow you to hurt them.’ William paused as Robert’s shade writhed
under the hail of his words. ‘Now go!’ he commanded.
Robert’s body shook and
trembled, the cloud forming his body began to dissipate into a fine mist that
floated slowly up getting thinner and thinner before descending rapidly back to
the floor.
Kitty pushed Gordon off
and threw herself and the jar under the falling stream of mist before it
disappeared back into the soil from where it came. The essence of Robert’s
spirit was sucked inside by the age old magic of the thorns and the rowan
berries and was imprisoned in the Holy water.
Gordon grabbed the lid
from the table, slammed it on and screwed it down.
Inside the black shadows
writhed and twisted against the glass, in constant motion searching for a way
out of its prison.
‘Did you get him?’ a shaky
voice asked from the floor.
Queenie and Sybil were
sprawled across each other in a tangle of arms and legs. Sybil half rolled off
of her sister and sat up groaning, she pushed a curl out of her eyes and stared
shakily up at them. ‘Has he gone?’
Kitty held up the jar.
‘Look,’ she said triumphantly.
Queenie lay back on the
floor. ‘Oh thank God,’ she said weakly. ‘What a bugger!’
‘Queenie! Language,’ said
Sybil primly struggling to get up.
William hurried over and helped
her up. ‘Sybil,’ he said ‘What can I say? All this trouble from him,’ he
blinked back a tear. ‘I thought you had been hurt.’ He looked at Queenie who
was still lying on the carpet. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked suddenly worried.
She grinned at him. ‘No
dear just getting my breath,’ she extended her hand. ‘Wouldn’t mind a bit of
help though.’
He smiled and pulled her
to her feet.
Queenie looked at him and
gently patted him on the arm. ‘You shouldn’t feel guilty, this isn’t your
fault, you don’t have to carry his guilt you know.’
He nodded and pulled a
handkerchief from his trouser pocket and blew his nose. ‘But he was family Queenie; I do feel
responsible for all this.’
‘Well you shouldn’t dear,’
Sybil put her arms around him and kissed his cheek. ‘You’re a good man William,
you’ve nothing to feel guilty about,’ she added firmly. She looked down at Kitty
who was still knelt on the floor with the jar held in front of her; she was
staring fixedly at the writhing black shadows trapped inside.
‘Umm, Queenie,’ she nodded
at Kitty and raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh yes,’ she replied and
quickly took the jar from Kitty’s hands. ‘I’ll have that dear.’
Queenie walked away from
her and put the jar carefully on the table. ‘There, it can sit there for a
minute.’
Gordon picked up the
chairs and pushed Kitty into one. He knelt down in front of her and stared into
her glazed eyes. ‘Kitty? Are you okay?’
he lifted a hand and smoothed her tousled hair back from her face. ‘Kitty?’ he
repeated.
She blinked and looked at
him blankly for a minute before smiling faintly. ‘I’m fine Gordon.’
‘Thank goodness, I was
getting worried,’ he said relieved. ‘Sit here and I’ll get something for us to drink;
I need one after all this!’
Queenie and Sybil joined
her around the table.
‘What a good idea Gordon.
Whiskey if you have some.’
‘Sherry?’ asked Sybil.
‘I’ll have a look, it’s
not something we usually drink but there may be some in the cupboard.’
He looked nervously at the black shadow in the
jar. ‘He will stay in there?’
Sybil nodded and looked at
William who was still hovering over her.
‘Come and sit down,’ she
pulled out a chair for him and patted the seat. ‘Come on dear.’
He sat down slowly, still
looking very shocked. He stared across the table at Kitty who was sitting
hunched over, with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She was still
staring blankly at the jar.
He looked at the swirling
mass inside.
‘Will somebody please
explain now?’
The two sisters looked at
each other. ‘You or me?’ said Sybil.
‘I’ll do it, I’ll be more
succinct. You tend to waffle dear. Well,’ she started ‘I suppose you’ve heard
about Hannah?’ she looked at him raising an eyebrow. William nodded. ‘Hannah
was accused of being a witch by a local farmer.’
He nodded impatiently.
‘Yes, yes. I know that, Kitty told me.’
‘It was Robert who paid
the white witch to get rid of her.’
William stared at Queenie.
‘That was my grandfather?’ he looked across at Kitty. ‘You didn’t tell me it
was him.’
‘We didn’t know then,
Sybil told us yesterday.’
William rubbed his chin.
‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Robert spread a lot of nasty tales about her,
killing animals, blighting crops that sort of thing. Now whether he killed her
or the white witch did, nobody really knows for certain but for myself I think
he did it. But the man, Evans I think his name was, was paid one hundred pounds,
which was a lot of money in those days. Anyway, to cut a long story short
Kitty’s great grandmother Ava worked for Robert when she was young girl and she
was friends with Hannah. At the inquest
Ava testified that she had seen Robert threatening to kill Hannah but her
evidence was discounted. It seems the whole matter was hushed up, Hannah’s
death was put down as water on the brain. Robert never
forgot or forgave Ava for standing up in court and denouncing him and Robert’s
spirit took exception to Ava’s descendant returning to live on his land.’
Queenie looked at him calmly. ‘And you saw for yourself how he felt about it.’
William still looked
confused. ‘Is this why you were asking all those questions about Hannah and
Samuel?’
Kitty nodded.
‘Oh,’ he stared at his
hands clenched on the table. ‘And you think Hannah was murdered?’ he asked the
three women.
‘I know this has been a
shock William,’ Sybil leant towards him in concern. ‘But the circumstances
surrounding her death were very strange.’
‘Yes,’ interrupted Kitty.
‘Her body was found hanging over a branch of a tree, and there was blood inside
the cottage. In the account we found it was believed that she was killed by the
devil himself.’
‘By the devil himself,’ he
repeated quietly to himself looking blankly at the wall.
Sybil gently took his
hand. ‘Now nobody is saying that Robert was the devil. Ah Gordon,’ she said
looking towards the door. ‘That’s well timed; I think that William could do
with a stiff drink.’
Gordon came in with a tray
of glasses and a full bottle of whiskey. He looked at William’s pale face and
poured a tumbler full of whiskey and put in front of him.
‘There you go, now,’ he
said turning to Sybil. ‘No sherry I’m afraid, it’s going to have to be this.’
He filled four glasses and handed them out.
He lifted his glass.
‘Thank goodness that’s over with.’
‘Indeed,’ agreed William
sipping his whiskey, he coughed slightly. ‘I’m not used to drinking whiskey.’
He took another gulp. ‘But this is going down well.’
Queenie drained her glass
in one gulp and waved the empty glass at Gordon.
‘Nice, could do with a bit
more though Gordon.’
Kitty was nursing her
glass in clasped hands and staring blankly at the wall, Gordon looked across at
her anxiously and put his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it, ‘Are you
feeling okay?’
She didn’t answer but
suddenly leant forward and chinked her glass against the jar.
‘Up yours Robert!’ she said firmly. She looked
up and met Queenies quizzical gaze. ‘Well?’ she asked defiantly.
There was a stunned silence for a while until
the two sisters started laughing.
‘I agree with that,’ said Gordon grinning
slightly. They started laughing and all raised their glasses in the toast.
Gordon knelt down next to
her and put his arms around her. ‘Thank God that’s all over, I’ve been so
worried about you.’
She didn’t answer, just put
her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder.
‘A witch though! How
ridiculous,’ said William after a while.
Gordon straightened up and
gave Kitty a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Yes and apparently she could turn
herself into a hare!’ he said with smile.
‘Now that is ridiculous,’
agreed Queenie taking another sip of her whiskey. ‘A hare of all things, in the
country as well. Is it jugged hare or jugged rabbit that they are so fond of
around here?’ she asked her sister.
Sybil thought for a while.
‘Both, I think,’ she said rather muzzily. Her cheeks had gone a delicate shade
of pink.
‘Are you alright Sybil?’ asked Queenie
grinning.
‘I’m not used to whiskey
you know. Nice bit of meat on a hare,’ she continued. ‘Makes a good pie. She wouldn’t
turn herself in to a hare.’ Her eyes were slightly out of focus and Queenie
prudently took the glass away from her.
‘I think you’ve had enough, Sybil.’
Gordon thoughtfully stared
at Queenie while toying with his glass.
‘Why didn’t he just
arrange an ‘accident’ instead of trumping up anything as ridiculous as that,
accusing her of witchcraft of all things!’
Queenie glanced across the
table at Sybil who was staring blearily at him.
‘Well... what do you call a witch? Black pointy hat and broomstick?’
He stared at her and
smiled but his smile faded when he saw the serious expression on her sister’s
face.
‘What?’ he asked flatly.
‘It’s difficult to explain
but Hannah had certain abilities, shall we say, and she used this power to heal
and her knowledge of herbs was well, amazing. Some people would view this as
witchcraft I suppose.’ Queenie looked Gordon sternly in the eye. ‘She was a good
woman and never harmed anybody and until Robert started all this fuss it was
never a problem, they were grateful enough when they needed her.’
‘I think they just turned
a blind eye. I say Gordon do you think I could have a coffee, that whiskey has
gone straight to my head,’ asked Sybil.
‘Yes of course,’ he seemed
confused for a minute, gathered his thoughts and got up slowly from the table. ‘So you mean after all this,’ he said
indignantly. ‘She was a bloody witch?’
‘Gordon!’ exclaimed Sybil
in distress. ‘She looked after so many people in the village and beyond, they
used to come from miles around to get her advice. It was a black day when the
village lost Hannah, in more ways than one.’
He looked apologetic. ‘I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean that Sybil. Look I’ll just go and make some coffee, I’m
having problems thinking straight,’ he hesitated and tried to speak calmly ‘I think
the milk has gone off so it will have to be black.’
‘That will be fine.’ she
turned to William who had been unusually silent while they talked. ‘Do you need
a coffee?’
‘Oh yes I think I had
better, I’m having problems thinking straight as well.’ he frowned to himself
and went on slowly ‘Kitty, do you remember you were talking about Samuel’s death?
How he drowned?’ He stared across the table at Queenie. ‘Did Robert have a hand
in that as well?’
She looked uncomfortable and took another sip
of her drink before answering.
‘Oh dear, I’m sorry William, but yes I think
he probably did.’
He sat back in his chair
and closed his eyes for a minute. ‘No wonder father never said anything about
his death, mother never mentioned it either, the bastard,’ he added feelingly.
‘His own brother. What a monster.’
‘I wonder why he was like
that?’ mused Kitty. ‘What made him become so ...well,’ she hesitated.
‘Evil?’ added William.
‘Sorry, but yes.’
He shook his head. ‘Bad
blood, but there was nobody else in the family like that, so why he would turn
out like it... strange,’ he mused sadly.
Gordon returned with a
tray of coffee. ‘I’ve made coffee for everybody,’ he said. ‘And I found some
biscuits as well.’ he placed the tray on the table and glanced around the
table. ‘You’re all looking very glum, what have I missed?’
‘We were discussing
Samuel,’ said Kitty.
‘Oh,’ he said thoughtfully
and looked across at William. ‘I’m sorry.’
He looked up. ‘That’s
alright Gordon, but I just never knew about any of this’ he stared at the jar
on the table. ‘And what are we going to do with that?’
Queenie stirred a couple
of spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee.
‘Well,’ she said staring
about the rubbish strewn room. ‘I need my bag for that.’
Kitty eventually found it
behind the sofa, she handed it over after giving it a vigorous shake.
‘Be careful it’s covered
in little shards of glass.’
Queenie took it carefully
and opened it, a shower of window glass scattered over the table.
‘Oh dear look at all
this,’ she looked around the room. ‘I’m afraid your front room is in a bit of a
mess.’
The window frame had
splintered and was hanging half way into the room, the curtain rail had come
down and there were strange scorch marks on the carpet. Gordon looked around at
the mess.
‘Never mind,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s nothing
that can’t be fixed, and,’ he added brightly ‘I didn’t like the carpet anyway.’
Gordon looked apologetically at Kitty. ‘Sorry dear.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘Doesn’t
matter.’ she watched Queenie pull out a bundle of small sticks from her bag.
‘What are those for?’
She separated the bundle
and pulled out one of the sticks. ‘Well,’
she held it up. ‘This is rowan.’ She found another. ‘This is holly and this,’
she held up one covered in thorns. ‘This is bramble.’
‘And?’
‘They are all very effective
in holding evil at bay.’ Queenie started spacing the sticks around the jar and
tying them on with red thread. ‘This will hold him inside the jar.’
Gordon sipped his coffee
and watched.
‘Don’t look like that
Gordon,’ she said without looking up.
‘I didn’t say anything!’
he protested but he carried on. ‘What happens if the jar breaks?’
‘We’re going to put it
somewhere really safe.’
‘Where exactly?’
‘We’re going to put him
where he should be,’ she said firmly with a wicked glint in her eye.
Sybil nodded. ‘I hope the
village will be quiet, we don’t want anybody watching us.’
Gordon looked at them and
winced slightly. ‘Oh dear, what have you got in mind?’
‘We’re going to put the
jar into his grave,’ Queenie said firmly. She looked at William. ‘Any
objections?’
‘Not from me,’ he said
quietly.
Kitty sipped her coffee
thoughtfully. ‘And he’ll stay in the jar?’
She nodded. ‘Oh yes he’ll
stay trapped in there.’
‘For all eternity,’ added
Sybil. ‘It doesn’t seem like a very nice thing to do to him but,’ she looked
around, ‘I don’t think we want to go through this again do we?’
They nodded in agreement
and Gordon reached across the table and squeezed Kitty’s hand.
‘I wouldn’t want you or
the girls to have to experience this again.’
‘You’ll be able to move
back into the house and know that everything will be okay,’ Queenie smiled at
them both and nodded in satisfaction. ‘Although you will have to do a few
repairs.’
‘I can help with that
Gordon,’ William held up his hand when he started to protest. ‘No, no, I insist,
it’s the least I can do for you both.’
Kitty smiled at him. ‘That
is so kind of you, and we would be happy for you to help, wouldn’t we?’ she
looked at her husband for confirmation.
‘I wouldn’t want to lose
you as a neighbour, either of you.’ William smiled at Kitty as he spoke.
She impulsively got up and
went round the table to give him a hug. ‘William,
if it hadn’t been for me moving back in you wouldn’t have known about any of
this. It must be so upsetting for you.’
William patted her on the
back. ‘That’s alright Kitty, this isn’t your fault.’
Queenie looked at her
watch ‘It’s getting late, let’s get on with it shall we?’ She picked up the
twig covered jar and put in her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and helped
Sybil to her feet. ‘Okay Sybil, sobered
up yet?’
‘I’m fine now,’ her sister
straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair carefully. ‘I’m just not used to
strong alcohol.’
‘Me neither,’ said William
taking her arm. ‘Come on dear, we can hold each other up.’
Gordon helped Kitty put
her jacket on then patted his pockets.
‘Where did I put the keys?’
‘The kitchen?’
He headed back into the
kitchen and called through a few minutes later. ‘Found them, next to the boiler.’ He took his
coat off the end of the banister and shrugged it on. ‘Right, so it’s down to the graveyard?’
Queenie nodded and opened
the front door.
Do you remember where his
grave is?’ asked Sybil suddenly. ‘Because I can’t and I don’t fancy wandering
around there all night trying to find it.’
Gordon paused in the
doorway looking out into the dark night.
‘I have a torch in the garage,’ he looked
outside. ‘And it’s pitch black out here now so I think we’re going to need it.
A dark graveyard isn’t my idea of fun you know,’ he looked at his wife. ‘Does
Kitty need to come? Perhaps it would be better if she waited in the car.’
Queenie walked over to his
car and opened the back door.
‘Stop fussing Gordon and
yes I do know where it is Sybil, and yes, a torch would be a good idea and a
spade if you have one. There,’ she sighed. ‘Did I answer everybody’s question?’
She looked around
enquiringly. ‘Yes? Good let’s go.’
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