The Lavender Witch: serialised part 3

Sunday

‘I think I’ll explore that footpath as you are going fishing,’ Kitty stared out the kitchen window into the garden. A light breeze was blowing across the tops of the trees, and the sky was clear and bright apart from a few clouds scudding across the horizon. ‘It’s too nice to stay indoors.’

‘It is a lovely morning, that’s why I thought I would make the most of it before I go back to the grind tomorrow.’

‘What time are you going?’ she asked finishing the washing up and stacking it in the drainer.

‘Why don’t you use the dishwasher?’ he asked impatiently.

‘It’s only a few cups and plates, it’s quicker to do it like this,’ she picked up a tea towel and started to dry the plates.

‘What you mean is that you haven’t worked out how to use it yet.’

‘Well I didn’t want one, you’re the one who insisted on having the silly thing,’ she said calmly before pushing past him to pack the china away in the cupboards

Gordon sighed and started to put a few things into a lunch box. ‘I just thought it would make your life easier that’s all.’

‘But there’s just the two of us now Gordon, I could have done with one when the children were living at home, that would have been really useful.’

Kitty picked up the thermos she had prepared for him and handed it to him.

 ‘There you are, its coffee, is that alright or would you prefer tea?’

‘You didn’t have to do that, I’m quite capable of making it for myself,’ he said taking it from her and pushing it into the corner of his bag.

Kitty didn’t answer, she busied herself wiping around the new granite worktops and watched him packing the rest of his food into the rucksack.

 ‘What’s the weather forecast?’ he asked.

‘Fine all day and rain coming in tonight.’

‘Ah, that sounds okay so I won’t get wet while I’m out, I’ll be off as soon as I’ve found everything.’

Kitty folded her arms and leant back against the sink watching as he rummaged through the boxes in the utility room looking for his fishing reels.

‘Looks like you’ll be going next week then.’

‘Ha, ha,’ he said drily.

Kitty shifted and pushed herself away from the worktops. ‘I think I’ll get ready and go now, it looks so lovely out there and Nero needs his walk.’

The dog looked up when he heard his name and wagged his tail.

‘Which footpath?’ enquired Gordon.

‘The one just up the lane, I think it leads towards the hill.’

‘Isn’t that Castle Hill?’

‘I’m not too sure, but I’ll find out when I get there.’

Kitty put her boots and raincoat next to the front door.

 ‘Right my things are ready, how about you Gordon?’

He was pulling out different rods and examining them. ‘I think I will take this one today. Right,’ he said. ‘I have got everything I need so I’m going and I’ll see you later.’ With that he kissed Kitty on the top of her head and walked out of the front door.

‘Well, good luck dear,’ she called after him.

Kitty walked briskly up the narrow lane, it was little used and a ridge of grass had grown up in the middle of the road which was full of pot holes.

Nero trotted along in front pushing his nose in to all the interesting smells along the way, finding the rabbit holes that were hidden deep in the hedges. By the time they had reached the stile his head was covered in dirt and grass seeds and a few bramble thorns were stuck in his fur.

‘Well you’re in a state already and we haven’t got to the hill yet.’ Kitty was already panting from the steep climb up the lane.

The signpost pointing to the hill was lying half in the hedge almost covered by a tangle of flowering bindweed, the lettering faded and illegible. She found the stile buried deep in nettles and brambles. It didn’t look as though it had seen much use recently, the wood was rotten and the whole thing looked very rickety.

 Kitty tentatively pushed the prickly branches out of the way careful not to get snagged then clambered over while Nero managed to scrabble underneath.

It was difficult to see where the footpath led but Kitty made a guess and headed for a hedge that ran upwards to the top of the hill. It was the remains of an old moss covered wall from which over many years trees had sprouted and grown twisted and shrunken, their roots protruding from the wall like skeletal fingers.

Kitty reached the top of the hedge and paused turning to look at the view, giving herself time to catch her breath. She pulled down the zip of her coat and let the cool morning breeze blow around her. The hillside was bright with the morning sunshine and below her the river snaked its way through the green fields to the harbour at Seaton. The tide was out and the muddy flats stretched out on either side of the narrow channel of the river.

Cormorants and ducks waded about in the mud and Kitty caught sight of a white egret, a recent immigrant to the area.

On the horizon grey storm clouds were gathering, it looked as though the predicted evening’s rain was going to arrive early.

At the top of the hedge another stile led into a small rutted track that snaked around the side of the hill. Kitty followed it as it led upwards to top which was crowned in a small coppice of hazel.

Underneath the trees the air was cool and green dappled, she walked slowly following the dog snuffling along in the long grass. The path ended abruptly in a thick tangle of bramble, not deterred Nero pushed his way through regardless of the thorns.

‘Nero, where are you going? You silly dog,’ Kitty pushed through after him tearing her coat on the thorns and stubbing her foot on a pile of old bricks hidden in the tangled undergrowth.

‘Ouch,’ she cursed to herself. Why there’s an old building here she thought although there wasn’t much left of the structure, just four crumbling walls surrounding a stone slab floor. There were the remains of an old garden behind the cottage walls, very overgrown but a few robust rose bushes still struggled to bloom in the tangle.

Kitty caught the fragrance from some straggly lavender bushes lining a path that trailed off in front of her. The grass was surprisingly short in the clearing but then Kitty caught a glimpse of a small white tail disappearing quickly under the brambles. Nero bounded after the rabbit in hot pursuit, but it ran beneath the tangled stems and disappeared down its burrow. The stems of the bramble bushes were too thick for the dog to push his way through and he whined in frustration and started scrabbling in the sandy soil trying to dig the rabbit out of its hole.

Sunlight shone through the trees making the clearing bright and cheerful, bees buzzed around the lavender creating such a feeling of peace that Kitty perched for a moment on part of the wall.

Closing her eyes she lifted her smiling face to the sun enjoying the warmth. She lost all track of time sitting in the sun but gradually became aware of the sound of footstep approaching up the stony lane and the regular thump of a stick on the ground. Kitty’s eyes flicked open, the sunlight had faded and a chill wind sprang up and blew across the clearing making the dried stems of the lavender rustle.

Kitty shivered, suddenly aware how quiet and remote the ruined cottage was. Nero came trotting up to her, his tail down and ears drooping. He pushed his head into Kitty’s lap and whined.

‘Come on let’s go,’ she said quietly and stood up, the footsteps came closer, and she fancied she could hear the sound of breathing behind the tangle of brambles.

She walked quickly off down the path; outside the confines of the garden it seemed darker as though the storm clouds had already arrived. For a moment Kitty was reluctant to leave the warmth and light of the garden but a few stones rattled behind her so calling the dog hurried off through the old garden gate that was still hanging from its wooden post. A narrow path led off down the hillside and Kitty followed it, half running, eager to get off the hill and away from whatever or whoever was behind her.

The path widened as she got farther down but it became increasingly rough with stones and potholes, gullies that had been gouged out by rain water and then filled with silky mud and sand. Kitty scrambled  on worried that she would sprain an ankle, the thought of being stuck there with an injured ankle made her slow down and take more care. Glancing behind Kitty could see nothing but the feeling persisted that she was being followed.

Nero’s ears were still down and every now and then he would stop and growl back up the path.

‘Nero come on,’ she called impatiently, she had spotted a gate and on the other side of that was a narrow road. ‘There’s a road, hurry up.’

 Nero had stopped completely and was staring back up the path, his hackles were up and he was trembling. He started growling at the dark shadows under the trees as more stones rattled down the path after them.

The sound of a car driving down the narrow lane made her jump, Nero barked defiantly one last time at the shadows and came running over to Kitty’s side.

‘Come on.’

 Kitty hurried down the hill hopping over the potholes and reached the gate. She leant on it for a few minutes getting her breath and stared back up towards the hill; she still had a strange prickling feeling of being watched by unfriendly eyes. Kitty opened the gate and stepped out into the road, in the distance were a few buildings and she could just see the church tower. She followed the road downhill hoping to get to the village quickly and plodded on, her legs aching from the unaccustomed exercise but very relieved to be off the hill.  Kitty only glanced behind her once as she walked into the village, just to her left was the public house The Witch and Broomstick and even though it was still quite early there were already people sitting outside with drinks.

Kitty waved and called ‘good morning’ in relief. Turning right she headed back up the road to the cottage with Nero tucked in close to her side.

There was low rumble of thunder and the sun disappeared behind the dark clouds that Kitty had seen earlier. A gust of wind blew up the hill and whipped her hair into her eyes.

‘Looks like we timed this well, Nero.’

A few spots of rain spattered on the road. Her legs were too tired to hurry but they still managed to make it back to the house before the rain started to fall too heavily.

Kitty unlocked the back door and pushed it open.

‘Come on inside before we get wet.’

 Nero collapsed into his basket near the radiator with a sigh, his tail giving a few brief thumps.

‘Tired?’ she bent and gave the panting dog a reassuring pat. ‘That was an interesting walk wasn’t it!’ Kitty laughed nervously to herself. ‘I don’t think I’ll be going up there on my own again,’ on that thought Kitty locked the back door. ‘There! Now I’ll put the kettle on and calm down.’

Kitty had just finished making herself a sandwich when she heard a car on the gravel drive, a door clunked shut and there was her husband coming in the front door laden down with bags of tackle and fishing rods.

‘Well, I didn’t expect to see you for a while.’

‘I gave up, I was all fingers and thumbs today and nothing was biting. And the weather wasn’t looking too good so I decided to come home.’

‘Do you want a sandwich? I’m just making myself one.’

‘Please, I ate my lunch in the first hour, I was so bored.’ Gordon put his bag down on the table and gave her a quick kiss. ‘How was your walk?’

Kitty buttered some bread and started slicing some cheese.

 ‘I found a cottage up there, it was in ruins though and an old garden with roses and lavender, it was lovely. Except somebody else was up there and I got a bit spooked. Silly really but I didn’t hang around so I followed the lane down and came out near the pub.’

Gordon filled the kettle, turned it on and took a mug from the cupboard.

 ‘Isn’t the witch’s cottage up there, on Castle Hill?’

‘Perhaps it was her,’ she joked.

‘No, it was probably some farmer wondering what a middle aged woman was doing trespassing on his land,’ he sounded a bit short.

‘It was a footpath,’ Kitty said defiantly.

‘Well you don’t know who could be wandering around up there, you should be more careful.’

‘I took the dog with me.’

 They both turned to look at Nero who was lying on his back, legs in the air and tongue lolling out of his mouth. His legs were twitching and he was making whimpering noises as he dreamed of rabbits.

They both laughed.

 ‘Here’s your sandwich.’

‘Thanks, but stay off that hill Kitty.’

‘I’ll take you up there next time and show you the cottage.’

There was crack of thunder overhead and they both jumped, the kitchen grew dark as the rain clouds massed over their house.

‘Oh, here it comes,’ said Gordon, just as he spoke the heavens opened and the rain fell from the sky in a torrent.

It rained nonstop for the rest of the day but by the evening the skies had cleared and the first few stars had appeared.

Gordon took the opportunity to put the car away in the garage.

‘What a beautiful evening,’ he stood on the drive with his hands on his hips and stared up at the clear night sky. ‘Smells wonderful out here.’

Kitty glanced at him through the open door on her way to the sitting room, outside the shadows lengthened along the drive and she shivered.

‘Are you coming in Gordon? It’s getting cold in here.’

‘Umm, yeah, just coming,’ he looked around to the end of the drive where he heard a noise.

‘Evening,’ he called and raised a hand in greeting.

‘Who was that?’

‘Not too sure, there was somebody there, just passing I suppose.’

He pushed the front door shut and entered the sitting room.

Kitty was sat in front of the empty fireplace. ‘I wonder who used to live there?’ she pondered.

‘What? What are you talking about? Who used to live where?’

‘On the hill, it’s lovely spot but quite a lonely place to live.’

‘Ask Mr Beamish, he’s bound to know.’

‘Do you think that really was the witch’s cottage?

‘It’s just a story Kitty,’ Gordon sat down in the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace, stretched his legs out and sighed. Yawning he glanced around the room. ‘That air freshener is nice.’

‘There isn’t one in here; I still haven’t found the ones I bought in the supermarket.’

‘Well, there’s a nice smell coming from somewhere, it must be you, dear.’

 He rubbed his neck and arms. ‘I’m really out of practice casting, my arm and shoulders are killing me,’ he said ruefully, he paused and cocked his head on one side.

Outside there was the sound of hurrying footsteps on the gravel drive followed by a sudden crash on the front door, making the glass panels rattle.

They both jumped and the dog started barking in the kitchen.

‘What was that?’ Kitty yelped.

 Gordon leapt to his feet, rushed into the hall and yanked the door open.

‘What is it?’ Kitty followed him out into the hall.

‘Nothing, there’s nothing here,’ He stepped outside and gazed around the outside of the house. ‘Put the outside light on.’

Kitty clicked it on and the light flooded the drive.

‘I can’t see anything,’ he said.

Kitty folded her arms tightly around her and shivered, it was very quiet and the pool of light made the shadows seem even darker.

‘Perhaps it was an animal, a rabbit or something.’

‘A rabbit? It sounded more like a rhino charging the door!’ he exclaimed examining the door. ‘Well there aren’t any marks on it...’

 He walked a few paces down the drive and peered into the dark shadows at the end of the drive.

‘There’s something moving down there,’ he exclaimed and crunched down the gravel to the road to have a look. Gordon stood looking up and down the road, it was very quiet and one of the resident bats skimmed low over his head, but there was no injured animal lying in the road that he could see.

Kitty watched him from the doorway; she could just see his white shirt in the darkness.

Watching him it seemed that the shadows started to lengthen and the circle of light cast by their lamp grew smaller.

‘Gordon,’ she called.

He didn’t answer and moved away following the road down into the village, she watched his figure disappear into the gloom and listened to his footsteps on the road. With a start she realised that the footsteps had changed, it was the same heavy tread and measured thump of a walking stick on the tarmac that she had heard that afternoon on the hillside. A feeling of chill and dread crept over her again. Kitty stepped back into the hall and slammed and locked the door, while chiding herself for being silly. Nero pushed his nose against her leg making her jump; she was surprised to see the dog still in the house.

 ‘Why didn’t you go with dad then?’  Nero usually followed Gordon everywhere and never turned down the chance of a last minute walk. ‘Are you a scaredy-cat as well?’

He started to whine gently which slowly turned to a growl, he put his nose to the crack under the door, the hairs standing up on the ridge of his back.

‘It’s alright, there’s nothing there,’ said Kitty trying to sound calm but she wasn’t too sure whether she was trying to convince herself or the dog.

The back door banged open making them both jump.

 ‘Gordon! Where did you go? I was getting worried here on my own.’

He came in and closed the door looking at her in surprise.

 ‘Why?’ he questioned. ‘I wasn’t gone that long, I walked to the entrance to the farm, and I thought I saw something disappearing down the lane but I couldn’t catch it so I suppose it couldn’t have been injured.’

‘What was it, a rabbit?’

‘No it was too big to be a rabbit, and anyway I couldn’t see it properly.’

Gordon put the kettle on and pulled out the biscuit tin from the cupboard, Kitty stayed in the hall looking into the kitchen.

 ‘Have you locked the back door?’ she asked nervously

‘What are you so jittery about?’ but he turned and locked the door. ‘There! Happy now?’

‘I’m not jittery, I was just worried that’s all,’ Kitty shivered. ‘I think I’ll go and have a bath.’

She walked out into the hall. ‘Do you think we should leave the outside light on?’

‘What for?’

‘Well just in case, in case it comes back.’

‘No, turn it off.’

Kitty switched the light off and made sure the front door was locked. Gordon watched her in amusement from the kitchen

 ‘Making sure the bogey man doesn’t get in?’

‘Very funny.’

She walked slowly up the stairs and was half way up when a slight fragrance reached her.

‘Kitty’

She felt a slight touch on her shoulder and yelped in shock, Kitty swung round to see who was behind, lost her footing and sat down with a bump on the stair.

‘What is it now?’ Gordon came out from the kitchen holding a biscuit. ‘I thought you were going for a bath, did you trip?’

‘There was somebody behind me on the stairs, there was somebody here!’ Her white face peered at him through the banister.

‘Don’t be daft, there’s nobody here. It’s just your imagination working overtime again.’

‘I wasn’t imagining it,’ she snapped.  ‘Somebody said my name and touched my shoulder.’

Gordon laughed at his wife’s upset face. ‘You’ll be saying the house is haunted next.’

‘Well perhaps it is.’

‘How can a new house be haunted,’ Gordon said impatiently.

‘Well perhaps it’s the orchard, perhaps something awful happened here years ago and the ghosts have invaded the house, like building on Indian burial grounds or something. Remember the film Poltergeist?’

 He looked at his wife in disbelief. ‘That was just a stupid film, this is real life Katherine, things like that do not happen,’ he said firmly.

‘Strange things do happen Gordon just because you don’t believe in them doesn’t make them untrue.’

‘You’re absolutely right..., perhaps there is a local tradition of burying young virgins under apple trees so tomorrow you had better go out into the garden and start digging under the trees. The spade is in the garage.’

‘This isn’t a joke Gordon.’

‘Oh for goodness sake go and have your bath and stop being so daft!’

‘You can be such a git sometimes Gordon,’ Kitty snapped at him.

 She stormed upstairs to the bathroom and slammed the door after her. Kitty angrily locked the door but checked in the shower cubicle just in case. She was just lying back in the hot scented water when there was loud bang on the door. Kitty lurched up sending water and bubbles sloshing out onto the bathroom floor

‘Are you alright in there? Do you want your back washed or is your invisible friend going to do it for you?’

Kitty lay back in the bath and shouted at the closed door. ‘Shut up Gordon,’ she could hear him laughing outside the bathroom door.  ‘That’s not funny!’

The Lavender Witch: serialised part 2

Outside it was already getting dark and there was an autumnal nip in the air. They walked slowly back up the hill towards the cottage, a few cars speeding past on their way home from the coast.

Just outside the farmhouse Mr Beamish was talking to the elderly lady from the shop.

‘Hello,’ he called across. ‘Been for a walk? Mrs Leavenham said she saw you earlier.’

‘We needed milk, and some fresh air so we abandoned everything and retreated to the pub,’ said Kitty smiling at the pair.

Mrs Leavenham said comfortably ‘Well it takes a few days to get sorted and settle in.’

Mr Beamish smiled, his pale blue eyes disappearing into the wrinkles around his eyes. ‘It’s a lovely evening for a stroll, and this weather is supposed to last a few more days.’

It was difficult to tell how old he was, his face was quite careworn and rugged and he had the peculiarity of farmers his age that while the lower part of his face was ruddy and weathered the forehead was soft white and unlined from spending the most part of his life wearing a cap. 

He ran his hand through his thinning hair. ‘It’s nice to have you moved in at last, though I have enjoyed watching the house go up. It’s amazing how quickly they can build a house these days.’

‘All this activity going on in William’s orchard has kept him entertained for weeks you know,’ Mrs Leavenham looked at the old man sympathetically. ‘He’s going to miss talking to those builders of yours.’

Mr Beamish started laughing. ‘If it hadn’t been for me I’m sure your house would have been built in half the time.’

‘Well you must come in and have a coffee when you’re passing and have a look around now it’s finished.’

‘I’ll take you up on that.’

‘Did that cat come through here?’ asked Kitty hurrying into the kitchen.

‘What cat?’

‘The one I saw earlier, from the farm.’

Gordon looked up from his newspaper and stared at her over his glasses, he finished a mouthful of sandwich and shook his head. ‘I didn’t see a cat.

‘I was coming down the stairs and it was there, sat in the hall.’

‘Well, look in the front room then.’

‘It couldn’t have gone in there, the door’s shut.”’ She peered around the kitchen and under the table. ‘Are you sure it didn’t come in here?’

‘You must have been seeing things Kitty.’

‘Oh for goodness sake that’s your answer for everything isn’t it?’ she said sarcastically.  ‘Kitty’s seeing things!’

‘Okay, calm down,’ he answered irritably. ‘If there is a cat in here somewhere it will pop out soon enough. Open a tin of Tuna or something, the smell will bring it out from where ever it’s hiding.’

Kitty snorted and went back into the hall; she stared around the small space wondering how she could have missed it.

‘What’s all this on the doormat?’

‘Not cat poo I hope,’ he said drily.

‘No... It’s dried up twigs or something,’ Kitty bent and picked up a piece. ‘It’s lavender, how strange, where did that come from?’

She stared down at the fragrant stalks in her hand and shook her head.

‘You must have tracked it in from the garden, you or the dog.’

‘There isn’t any lavender in the garden. There was nothing left alive out there apart from the two apple trees, the diggers saw to that.’

‘I expect there is some out there somewhere,’ said Gordon, turning back to his newspaper.

Kitty straightened and sighed rubbing her head, she looked at the scattered seeds and twigs on the mat.

‘Oh, I can’t be bothered to clean this up now; I have had enough for today. I’ll do it in the morning.’

Gordon yawned and pushed his plate away from him.

‘Yeah it can wait, let’s have an early night and we’ll finish unpacking in the morning.

Kitty pulled back the duvet and climbed thankfully into bed, she lay back against the soft pillows and closed her eyes hoping the nagging headache she’d had all evening would go.

The sound of Gordon rattling about in the bathroom receded. As she began to doze soft footsteps approached across the bedroom carpet. Her side of the bed dipped slightly and a soft hand began to gently stroke the hair away from her forehead.

‘Night,’ Kitty mumbled not even bothering to open her eyes, her bedside light clicked off leaving that side of the room in darkness and Kitty was just aware of a figure walking slowly across the room and out onto the landing.

Saturday

‘I thought you had cleaned this up?’

‘What?’ Kitty called from the utility room.

‘All this mess on the front door mat.’

‘I did it earlier with the vacuum cleaner.’

‘Well it’s still here Kitty,’ he said impatiently, shaking his head.

He hefted the pile of books to one arm and bent down to pick up the mat, meaning to shake it outside. The books started to slip from his grasp as he did so and spilled onto the floor.

‘Dammit!’

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Kitty coming into the hall.

‘I’m trying to do two things at once and failing miserably,’ he snapped. ‘Look at this mess.’

Kitty looked at the lavender scattered over the floor.

‘I’m sure I did that,’ she said puzzled.

‘Well you couldn’t have, you probably meant to and went on and did something else and forgot about it. I know what you’re like.’

Gordon took a firm grip on the pile of books and walked off into the sitting room leaving Kitty staring blankly at the mat.

I’m sure I did it, didn’t I? she thought to herself.

 Shaking her head she headed back into the kitchen to fetch a broom. Nero’s tail was gently thumping on the side of his bed and he was staring intently at the back door.

Kitty opened the back door for him.

 ‘Did you want to go out Nero?’

He clambered out of his bed and stared out into the garden wagging his tail, Kitty followed his gaze.

Sat just outside on the path was the grey cat.

‘Hello puss,’ Kitty said softly.

She looked down and held out her hand, as she did so she saw their new neighbour Mr Beamish  standing at the end of the garden and staring intently over the wall at her. Kitty raised her hand and waved at the old man before looking down at the cat again.

The cat didn’t move, it just fixed her with a calm gaze from its strange pale eyes then stood up, stretched and sauntered past her into the kitchen.

‘Oh come in, please,’ she said smiling in amusement.  ‘And Nero behave yourself,’ she told him firmly.

The cat rubbed itself against Kitty’s legs purring gently.

‘Oh you are friendly aren’t you?’ she said bending down and gently tickling the cat behind its ear. ‘Would you like something to eat? How about some Tuna? That’s all I’ve got I’m afraid.’

The cat followed Kitty around the kitchen purring gently while she found a saucer and a tin of fish in the cupboard.

‘Talking to yourself again?’ inquired Gordon from the hall. He came to the door and peered into the kitchen holding a box in his arms.

‘The cat is here again, so I’m going to feed it.’ said Kitty opening the tin of Tuna.

‘It has obviously taken a fancy to you Kitty, or it knows you’re a soft touch.’

‘Who me?’ she grinned.

Kitty turned back to the cat, saucer in hand but it had disappeared from the kitchen.

She glanced out into the garden but there was no sign of it outside the house either.

‘My! That cat moves fast, it’s disappeared again.’She looked at the saucer full of fish she had prepared for it.

 ‘Oh well never mind, I’ll put it outside the door and hopefully the cat will find it.’

‘Hmm, if Nero doesn’t find it first.’

‘He’s not going to touch it and anyway I’ll shut the door so he can’t get it.’

‘We’re not adopting a cat, you know I don’t like cats,’ he said firmly.

‘Ah, that’s why it ran off then,’ she said, pointing an accusing finger at him and smiling.

‘Yeah, my fault again.’

Kitty looked at the box he was holding. ‘What’s in there?’

‘Photographs, I think some of them are framed so you’ll have to sort through them and decide which ones you want up. We haven’t got room for all of them on the walls.’ Gordon walked back into the hall. ‘I’ll put the box in the sitting room for now,’ he called over his shoulder.

‘Okay, I’m just coming.’ Kitty placed the saucer of food outside and looked towards the end of the garden where the apple trees were. Mr Beamish was still leaning on the wall staring across at the house, she waved uncertainly at him and quickly shooed Nero back into the kitchen. ‘Go on in Nero,’ she said quietly. ‘And no, you’re not having it,’ she said shutting the door firmly.

Nero sighed and followed her sulkily into the sitting room.

‘Where’s the box?’ she inquired.

‘Over there,’ he gestured to the oak bookshelf behind the sofa; the box was sitting on the top shelf.

She started sorting through the box pulling out different photographs of the children in various poses.

‘Look at this one of Eve and Roger at the zoo, that’s a nice photo and there’s this one of all of us on holiday in Scotland. That’s a nice one as well.’

 Kitty put the two pictures to one side and continued pulling out different framed prints.

‘Our wedding, that will have to go up and this one of your parents...’

‘Not too many Kitty, I don’t want you cluttering up the place like the last house.’

‘It wasn’t cluttered,’ she said indignantly. ‘It was homely.’

‘Well let’s try being homely without so much clutter.’

‘You’re such a grump Gordon. We’ve got some lovely pictures of the children and I want to display them,’ she said firmly.

‘Just choose the more recent ones then,’ he suggested.

‘Well I’ll leave out your parents’ picture then,’ she replied tartly.

‘Suits me.’

Kitty turned her back on him and rummaged further into the box. Right at the bottom was an old album full of faded sepia photographs.

I’d forgotten I had this, she thought to herself turning the thick brown pages. ‘I’ve found mother’s old photo album.’ she said to Gordon.

‘Hmm?’

She looked closely at the groups posing stiffly in their best clothes.

‘I’m not sure who all these people are,’ she said slowly turning to the last page.

‘Oh I recognise this group,’ Kitty said pleased to able to recognise the faces. ‘This is great-granny’s family,’ she looked closely at the group. ‘It must have been a wedding, they all look very grand and some of the men are wearing buttonholes. I wonder whose wedding it was? It doesn’t say...’

‘Ask your mum, she’s bound to know,’ Gordon said absently untangling some wires that he had found in the box. ‘I was so careful to coil these up neatly and now look at them. Right, now this is the one I wanted, and I’m sure I put it in the box with the television,’ he grumbled.

‘Do you need a hand with that?’

‘Nope, I’ll have all these wires plugged in next to no time now I have found everything. I could do with a cup of tea though.’

‘Okay.’

She closed the album and placed it back in the box, picked up the framed prints she had chosen and placed them on the coffee table.

‘Here’s some I’d like up Gordon.’

He glanced at the pile. ‘How many have you got there?’

‘It’s only a few, there are some more in another box upstairs. There’s that lovely picture of Emily somewhere.’

‘Oh yes, that will have to go up.’

‘Right, now I’ll go and make some tea.’ Kitty walked out into the hall, Nero following closely at her heels. ‘I suppose you’re waiting for your tea as well,’ she said looking down at the dog but he had stopped and was staring up at the top of the stairs. He started to whine gently, and Kitty quickly looked up to the landing almost expecting to see the cat but there was nothing there.

 ‘What are you looking at you silly dog?’ but Nero continued to stare his ears pricked, his tail was gently wagging and banging against Kitty’s leg. She looked again at the empty space at the top of the stairs and then at the dog. ‘What is it?’

Nero looked at her then at the stairs, still wagging his tail.

‘You’re a silly dog, come on.’ she coaxed him into the kitchen and picked his food bowl up off of the floor.  He followed Kitty reluctantly, still staring towards the hall then soon lost interest when he heard the dog biscuits being poured into the bowl.

Kitty made the tea and leant against the worktop thoughtfully watching as he finished off the last few biscuits. He pushed the bowl around the kitchen floor hopefully searching for any that he had missed, and then climbed into his bed. Nero wagged his tail at Kitty and settled down with his head between his paws.

‘The dog’s seeing things,’ she said walking back in to the sitting room with the tray of tea.

‘Seeing what?’

‘I don’t know, something in the hall.’

‘That dog is as daft as you are dear.’

Gordon was kneeling in front of the television trying to sort out the wires for the DVD player.

‘You are such a charmer Gordon, and here’s your tea.’

Kitty put the tray down on the coffee table and leant against the old oak mantelpiece watching as he pulled the television out from the corner of the room.

‘This has worm,’ she said looking closely at the fireplace. Kitty ran her hand along the pitted wood and yawned. ‘And there are holes all along the top,’ she rested her head against it and yawned again.

‘It’s okay, it was treated at the reclamation yard before it was delivered,’ He stood up and came over to stand next to Kitty. He ran his hand lovingly over the old wood. ‘It’s beautiful isn’t it? Look at these marks, years of wear. I wonder what this fireplace has seen, eh?’

Kitty looked at it doubtfully. ‘It is nice but don’t you think it’s a bit big? It dominates the room. I think something smaller would have been better.’

‘No, no, it’s perfect, it’s just what I wanted for this room, it gives it character,’ Gordon said firmly.

‘Oh well I’m sure I’ll get used to it, as long as the wood worm doesn’t spread.’

She rested her head against the wood again and yawned. ‘Oh boy, I’m tired.’

Kitty stood watching her husband as he pushed the television back into the corner. She closed her eyes for what just seemed a second, the noises in the room slowly receded and her mind began to drift.

‘Kitty’

‘Mmm,’ she murmured, her eyes flickering open. ‘What?’

‘What?’ asked Gordon vaguely.

‘Did you say something to me? ‘

He didn’t answer; Gordon was staring in frustration at the instruction manual. ‘These inscrutable Japanese, I can’t understand a word of this!’

Kitty straightened and rubbed the small of her back. ‘I’m dozing off here, I had better move before I fall asleep altogether.  I’ll go and find some cake, would you like a piece to go with your tea?’

Gordon didn’t answer, but she knew from experience that he never turned down cake so she walked slowly out into the hall and glanced through the window as she went past.

‘Oh there’s Mr Beamish,’ she called through to him. ‘I wonder if he’s going to come in, he’s been hanging around outside all afternoon. I expect he could do with a cup of tea.’

He stood at the end of the drive leaning on a stick and staring intently at the house, his cap pulled low over his eyes.

Gordon followed her out into the hall, wires in one hand and instruction manual in the other. He peered over his wife’s shoulder. ‘He’s admiring the house I expect,’ and tucked the manual under his arm, leant forward, tapped on the window and waved.

Mr Beamish turned and walked slowly away down the lane to the farmhouse.

‘Oh! I thought he was going to come in, he looked a bit grim don’t you think?’ Kitty looked at Gordon in surprise.

‘Perhaps he’s having a bad day.’

Kitty suddenly felt worried. ‘You don’t think he’s regretting selling us the orchard do you?’

‘Kitty, for goodness sake why should he? You heard him yesterday he’s been enjoying watching the house go up. And anyway we gave him a good price for the land; he’s laughing all the way to the bank.’

‘He didn’t look as though he was laughing,’ Kitty for some strange reason shivered.

Gordon looked at her. ‘Some cake would be nice.’

‘Okay, okay, I’m going!’

 She opened the cupboard to get a couple of plates and as she shut the door a slight scent of lavender wafted around her head. Slightly puzzled she stepped back looking around the kitchen.

There was a yelp from behind her. ‘Oh Nero! You made me jump,’ Kitty patted the dog’s head and picked up the cake tin.

She heard footsteps approaching along the tiled hall floor and out of the corner of her eye caught a flicker of movement in the doorway.

‘I’m just coming,’ Kitty said turning around.

The doorway was empty.

‘What did you say?’ Gordon called through from the sitting room.

Kitty blinked in surprise, she was just going to answer him when she heard the same footsteps run lightly up the stairs.

Kitty hurried out into the hall and stared up the stairs. ‘Gordon, was that you?’ she called.

‘Was what me?’

Kitty spun around in surprise, Gordon was still kneeling in front of the television, tuning in the channels.

‘I heard somebody run upstairs, I thought it was you.’

He looked up from the control box and peered over his spectacles.

‘Perhaps it was the dog.’

‘No,’ she said impatiently. ‘He was in the kitchen with me.’ Kitty looked nervously up the stairs and then glanced into the front room at her husband. ‘Do you think you ought to go and look?’

‘Kitty, there isn’t anybody in the house except us and I would have seen if anybody had come in the front door.’ He continued flicking through the different channels and then looked up as Kitty remained hovering nervously in the doorway.‘Kitty,’ he said impatiently. ‘You just heard a few creaks and groans that’s all, perhaps it was the wind outside or something. Are you going to stand there all afternoon?’

She looked uncertainly up the stairs. ‘But I heard somebody go up there, I’m sure it was footsteps Gordon.’

Kitty walked to the bottom of the staircase and peered up, the light was fading and the area above was in shadow.

‘Kitty, there is nobody in the house except us,’ he repeated his attention back on the television; he glanced towards her still stood in the hall and said impatiently ‘Well go and check then if it will make you feel better.’

She stepped back hesitantly and moved into the front room. ‘Well I don’t suppose it was anything, like you said it was probably the wind.’

The Lavender Witch: serialised

I am going to post 'The Lavender Witch' as a twice weekly series which I hope you will enjoy reading and that you won't get too frustrated that it's in dribs and drabs! ( what a lovely expression, makes me think of old spinster aunts!) Anyway I hope you enjoy it....

D

evon, a beautiful green county of gentle rolling hills and woodlands. Steeped in history, and home to the Anglo Saxon tribe the Dumnonii from which the county reputedly gained its name. Dumnonii meaning ‘deep valley dwellers’; an apt name for this beautiful countryside.  Hiding scores of small villages and hamlets deep in the fertile valleys of the Blackdown Hills and reached by a maze of winding single track lanes enclosed on either side by high banks and hedges which in high summer grow together and meet overhead forming long green tunnels.  Within just a few miles of the bustling towns and roads you enter a different world where the past is so close that it could be just around the next bend of the road.

The small village of Medbury, worthy of mention in the Domesday book is bounded by the river Yarty to the west and the county border of Dorset to the east, its single street winding its way along the valley and rising gently to the slopes of Castle Hill. The street petering out at the rambling buildings of Castle Farm, originally the last residence on that road but with the overgrown orchard to the side of the barn recently having been sold, a new dwelling had risen inside the old stone walls of the orchard. The builders rubble had gone, lush green turf had been laid and a new gravel drive led up to the front door. Orchard Cottage was finished, and deep in the soil something stirred

Friday

There were a few early fallers under the two remaining apple trees in the orchard behind the house, the old neglected trees had long since stopped producing a decent crop but the wasps had found the few apples that had dropped and were drunkenly crawling over the rotting fruit.

 One stray wasp flew in through the kitchen door and buzzed slowly around the room until it found the empty tubs of the Indian takeaway on the table. Kitty flicked it away with a tea towel and swept the debris into a carrier bag.

‘Thanks for bringing the Indian.’

Gordon pushed his empty plate away and stood up. ‘Well, I thought it would be easier for you, after all,’ he said looking at the piles of boxes in the hall. ‘You’ve had a busy day. So what time did the removal company finish?’

Kitty sighed and pushed her greying hair back from her face.

 ‘I think we finished unpacking the van about five, so then they had one last cup of tea and went on about five thirtyish.’ She picked up the dirty plates and piled them in the sink. ‘I’ve run out of milk as well, they drank so much tea and coffee. I was brewing up the whole time they were here.’

‘Oh well, at least they worked hard for it and moving all our junk in one trip! I’m sure they deserved all the tea they could drink for that.’

A cool breeze blew in the door, outside dusk was falling and the last few minutes of bird song drifted over the newly landscaped garden.

‘Thank goodness it stayed dry, there’s nothing worse than trying to move in the rain.’

Gordon opened the fridge. ‘Yeah.. We were lucky this time, is there enough milk left for a cup of tea?’ he picked up the carton and shook it. ‘Nope, it’s dry,’ he complained. ‘It will have to be a black coffee.’

Kitty pulled a couple of clean mugs out of a cardboard box on the table.

‘I hope I’ve got enough coffee left, there’s some tea, but black tea? And by the way there’s something wrong with this door,’ she indicated the back door.  ‘It won’t stay open.’

Gordon raised his eyebrows and sighed mockingly. ‘A new house and you’re finding fault already.’

‘I’m not finding fault, it just won’t stay open. And the front door is just as bad. It kept shutting when we were trying to bring things in. I’m sure the men thought I was doing it for a joke, so Greg propped it open with your armchair. He had a look at it; he said it might be the hinges.’

Gordon rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Okay, I’ll look at it tomorrow; have you found the coffee yet?’

‘What?’

‘The coffee,’ he said impatiently. ‘Oh never mind I’ve got it,’ Gordon opened the jar. ‘There’s not enough here for one cup let alone two,’ he looked at his watch. ‘I wonder if the village shop is still open.’

Kitty looked up from the box. ‘I shouldn’t think so, not at this time of night.’

Gordon sighed. ‘How about a beer then?’

‘A beer? Well,’ she hesitated. ‘Yes, that would be nice, I could do with getting out of here for a while,’ she looked at the dog who was pushing his now empty bowl around the floor. ‘And Nero could do with a walk,’ she bent down and fondled his ears. ‘You’ve been such a good dog today, haven’t you?’

Kitty straightened slowly wincing. ‘I’m going to ache tomorrow,’ she complained rubbing her back.

‘Why didn’t you let the men do the lifting?’

‘I had to help Gordon; I couldn’t stand back and just watch.’

 She turned away from him to shut the back door and noticed an elderly grey cat sitting in the doorway.

‘Hey, we’ve got a visitor, our first one. Hello puss.’ She put out a tentative hand and gently tickled it behind its ear. ‘Now who do you belong to?’

Gordon came back in from the hall, he had taken off his jacket and tie and had pulled on a thick jumper.

‘What?’

‘A cat,’ she turned back to the door. ‘Oh it’s gone already.’

‘It’s probably from the farm or a stray.’

‘It looked too plump to be a stray.’

‘Then it’s from the village or the farm, and no... we are not taking it in,’ he warned her.

‘I wasn’t thinking of that,’ she muttered. ‘Anyway Nero wouldn’t like it, would you boy?’

She patted his head and stepped over him to shut the door and caught sight of her hands, they were covered in the black ink from the newspapers.

 ‘I had better wash my hands first, they are filthy from unpacking this lot,’ she looked at the box of crockery.  ‘I should have got rid of all this china before we moved, who uses cups and saucers these days anyway?’ she said moving the box off the table. ‘We’ve got far too much now.’

‘Didn’t you wash them before we ate?’

‘Nope,’ she grimaced. ‘I forgot, I was too hungry, never mind,’ she rinsed them under the tap.  ‘A bit of ink won’t kill me.’

Gordon waited impatiently as Kitty dried her hands and got the dog lead from the utility room.

‘Are you ready now?’

‘Yes I am,’ she replied calmly. ‘Oh where’s my handbag?’

Gordon was walking to the front door and called back over his shoulder ‘You don’t need it, I’ve got some money, will you come on Kitty?’

Gordon pulled the door shut behind him and followed his wife down the drive. He glanced back at the house.

‘Once we sort out the front garden the place will look as though it has always been here.’

Kitty stopped and turned round, she smiled contentedly. ‘It blends in nicely with the old farm buildings, doesn’t it? And it feels like home already.’

Gordon put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug as they walked out into the lane.  ‘We need to plant some more apple trees in the back garden, we can’t call it Orchard Cottage if it hasn’t got an orchard.’

‘Perhaps we ought to grow some of the older types of apple, I wonder if Mr Beamish can remember what varieties the original trees were.’‘Maybe, it’s a shame we couldn’t keep a few more but I think most of the old trees were past saving.’

They turned right and followed the old stone wall of the orchard past the farm and walked down the lane into the village, the dog running a few paces in front of them

 A bat swooped over their heads and disappeared into the farm buildings.

‘What a lovely evening.’

The lights were still on in the shop as the couple walked past.

‘It looks open,’ said Kitty surprised. ‘Shall I try the door?’

An elderly woman stood behind the counter reading a newspaper, she looked up, sensing she was being watched and smiled when she saw Kitty peering in through the window.

Kitty opened the door making the bell over the door tinkle madly.

 ‘Are you still open?’ she asked.

‘Yes dear,’ she looked at her wrist watch. ‘Oh goodness! Is that the time? I didn’t realise it was so late,’ she shook her head and folded the newspaper.

‘We’ve run out of milk and coffee, are you usually open this late?’

‘No, I just lost track of time, I don’t usually work on Friday night but my nephew had an appointment so I volunteered.’ The woman watched as Kitty wandered around the shop picking up the milk and coffee, she also picked up a crusty loaf of bread.

‘Freshly baked this morning, dear.’

‘It smells lovely; I’ll have one of these as well.’ Kitty placed it all on the counter. ‘Do you have any eggs?’ she asked looking around the shelves.

‘Over there by the newspapers. They’re free range; they come from Mr Squire’s farm.’

Kitty placed a half a dozen next her other purchases on the counter. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t bring a bag, we weren’t expecting the shop to be open.’

The woman pulled a carrier out from under the counter and started packing Kitty’s groceries.

‘How’s the move going?’ she asked suddenly. ‘William’s a good friend, he’s been keeping me informed,’ she smiled at Kitty’s surprised face. ‘It’s a small village dear, you’ll get used to it.’

Kitty smiled back at her. ‘It’s lovely here, it feels like home already.’

‘I’m sure it does,’ the woman said quietly. She passed Kitty’s shopping over. ‘That will be six pounds fifty please.’

Kitty opened Gordon’s wallet and handed over a ten pound note. The women’s hand closed over the money and Kitty’s hand.

‘Sybil,’ she said.

‘Sorry?’

‘Sybil Leavenham, my name,’ she explained. ‘I know you’re going to be happy here Kitty, and if you need help with anything,’ she shook Kitty’s hand as if to emphasis the point. ‘Anything at all just ask.’

Kitty smiled hesitantly. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you.’

Sybil smiled and released her hand, she nodded towards Gordon standing outside, ‘He’s getting impatient and he wants his beer.’

Kitty glanced around; her husband was gently tapping on the window and gesturing at her to her to hurry up.

‘I’d better go,’ she gathered up the bag and her change. ‘Thanks, see you again.’

‘Oh you will. Goodnight.’

Kitty smiled and pulled the shop door closed behind her. Gordon looked at the carrier bag in her hand and smiled ruefully.

‘I thought it was just milk and coffee you needed?’

‘Well I thought I would pick up a few things for breakfast as well.’ Kitty handed back his wallet and looked up, Sybil was standing in the window calmly watching the couple outside.

Kitty waved and she smiled slightly in response.

‘She seemed very nice, she’s a friend of Mr Beamish. She knew all about us.’

‘Really?’

‘She even knew I was called Kitty.’

Gordon looked puzzled for a minute. He started to say something but behind them the shop lights suddenly turned off leaving them standing in the dark.

 ‘Oh, time to go I think,’ as he said this he turned and glanced back into the darkened interior of the shop, just on the other side of the window a dim figure stood, arms folded watching them through the glass. Gordon shrugged off the strange feeling of unease and took Kitty’s hand.

‘Come on; let’s get off to the pub Kitty.’

The street was deserted, pools of light shone out of the cottage windows lighting their way down to the public house. They crossed the narrow lane leading to Castle Hill and walked the few yards to the traditional square red brick building, which had a brand new sign hanging over the front door.

‘The Witch and Broomstick, huh! They’ve changed the name. It used to be The Red Lion,’ said Gordon.

‘I don’t remember coming here before,’ said Kitty surprised, looking at Gordon in the dim light.

She looked up at the lurid painted sign, a fearsome looking witch was riding across the night sky on a broomstick.

‘What a strange thing to call a pub.’

‘Remind you of anybody?’ Gordon said raising an eyebrow at her.

Kitty looked puzzled ‘Not really.’

‘No? I thought it was quite a good likeness of your mother,’ he laughed at her indignant face and pushed open the door to the public bar and reminded her. 'I used to play darts here many years ago with the Young Farmers Club.'

‘Ah.. Your wild and woolly past.’‘Half a pint of cider and a bag of chips on the way home,’ Gordon grinned at her and shrugged.  ‘Yeah, really wild!’

‘Yes and I suppose you still had change from a shilling or was it a farthing?’

‘Half a pig actually, so who’s buying, you or me?’

‘You are, I left my bag at home remember?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said ruefully.

Inside it was deserted except for the landlord who was wiping down the bar; it looked a traditional pub with horse brasses hanging from the old beams, however there were a few unusual additions to the decor.

Gordon bumped his head on one as he approached the bar.

‘Good evening, what can I get you?’

‘Evening, it’s quiet in here,’ said Gordon looking around the small room. ‘Well now let’s see, what local beers have you got?’

The landlord smiled. ‘It’s a bit early for the regulars yet, they’ll be in  later. Now,’ he said turning to the pumps. ‘We have Plymouth Pilgrim, Hunters Gold, or there’s Palmers IPA, and I’ve just put on a fresh barrel of Otter.’

‘I’ll try a pint of the Otter thanks, what will you have Kitty?’

‘I think I’ll have the same but just a half.’

Kitty stared at the toy witches hanging from the beams.

 ‘Why all the witches?’

‘That’s all to do with our famous local witch, The Witch of Medbury.’

‘Who? I’ve never heard of her,’ said Kitty puzzled.

‘Oh well you can’t be local then if you’ve never heard of Hannah.’

‘Well my family are local, from Axmouth, they used to run The Ship Inn,’ said Kitty.

‘Really? Here you are sir,’ and placed a foaming beer glass in front of Gordon who took a mouthful. 

‘Ahh... that’s good... that doesn’t sound like a Devon accent, where are you from?’

‘My partner and I are from Woking, in Surrey that is. We think it’s important to keep the local traditions alive. It’s surprising that so few people around here know about her.’

‘Hmm, really,’ Gordon said drily.

‘Rumour has it that she was an evil old woman, terrorised the village, it’s even said that she killed several people. She was snatched away by old Nick himself at the end.’

‘Where did you find out about all this? It sounds like nonsense to me,’ said Gordon disparagingly.

‘Well Sheena is very interested in the occult, she has been researching the witch and thought it would be great to try and bring local history alive. She was even thinking of having a séance here.’

‘A séance! Wow,’ said Kitty.

‘Perhaps you’d be interested in attending?’‘Oh I don’t think so,’ said Gordon firmly, picked up the glasses and pushed Kitty towards a small table near the fireplace. ‘I don’t think we want to get involved in anything like that.’

Nero plodded over to the smouldering fire and sat down on the hearth with his nose just inches from the burning embers. Kitty hooked a finger through his collar and pulled him away from the fire.

‘Move you silly dog, you’ll burn,’ and pushed him under the table. ‘Now sit there, I hope they don’t mind the dog coming in but the landlord didn’t say anything did he?’

Gordon placed the glasses down on the table and sat down.

‘The dog is fine Kitty, stop fussing.’ He put a glass in front of her. ‘There you are.’

‘Thanks,’ she picked up a beer mat off the table. ‘Look, the witch is on here as well.’

Kitty handed it to Gordon for him to read and while he searched for his glasses in his coat pocket she took the opportunity to gaze around the pub. Her examination of the many obligatory horse brasses hanging around the fireplace was cut short by the sound of Gordon laughing as he read out the text on the mat.

‘The Witch of Medbury

In the early 1800’s at Castle Hill near the village of Medbury lived a witch called Hannah who was reputed to possess great powers. She was the most famous witch in East Devon and could change into a hare, bewitch animals and it is said her powers caused the death of several residents of the village. Hannah died a horrible death dragged out of her cottage on Castle Hill by the Devil and left hanging in a tree.’

‘For God’s sake where did they dig this nonsense up from?’

‘Perhaps they’re going to turn this into a theme pub with a hologram of a hags head coming out of the wall.’

‘They could hire your mother to sit in the corner of the bar, an authentic witch. Can she cackle?

‘Oh how cruel!’ she laughed. ‘Anyway she would scare all the trade away.’

‘Very true....well here’s to the first day in our new home,’ Gordon raised his glass to his wife. ‘Here’s to our new home, at last!’

 Gordon settled back in his chair and closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for months, no maintenance, no painting windows, no worrying about guttering or dodgy drains, great!’

‘The old house wasn’t that bad.’

‘I was tired of having to continually patch things up and we don’t need all that space, not now.’

Kitty looked a bit glum. ‘Will we have room for all the children at Christmas?’

He stared at her over the top of his glass. ‘They’re not children any more, they have all got their own homes and families. We can go to them for Christmas, let the kids wait on us for a change.’‘The grandchildren will still be able to come and stay if they want, we’ll be able to squeeze two or three into the spare room, that would be nice,’ she said hopefully.

Gordon took a few mouthfuls of beer and sighed contentedly. ‘They don’t need to stay, they only live a few miles away. I’m looking forward to a nice peaceful retirement, no kids, no decorating, just fishing!’

Kitty shook her head. ‘I’m sure you don’t mean that and anyway you’re not retired yet.’

She sipped her beer slowly and stared at her husband.

Gordon put down his glass. ‘Just one more year and that will be it.’

The landlord came over and gave the smouldering fire a vigorous poke and then placed a fresh log on the rekindled flames.

‘It’s a bit early for a fire but it gives the place a welcoming feel, don’t you think?’ he asked, addressing Kitty.

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Well it’s getting chillier in the evenings now; I think our Indian summer is over.’

He nodded in agreement. ‘Are you here on holiday?’

‘No, we’ve just moved into Orchard Cottage, at the top of the village.’

The landlord looked blank. ‘I don’t think I know that one.’

‘It’s the new house at Castle Farm,’ explained Kitty.  ‘We bought the orchard off of Mr Beamish.’

‘Oh Castle Farm, I know the one you mean. We walked up the lane a few weeks ago, it’s those lovely old buildings at the top isn’t it?’

‘That’s right,’ said Kitty.

 ‘We haven’t seen Mr Beamish in the pub yet.’

Kitty looked at him in amusement.

‘I don’t think you will, he is rather elderly.’

‘Did you say you were from Axmouth?’ he went on. ‘That’s a busy little village isn’t it? Right on the holiday route. There is a nice pub there; I can’t remember what it’s called.’

‘It’s The Ship,’ put in Kitty.

‘No, no, I’m sure it was The Admiral. We stayed there while we were viewing different properties. Very busy little pub and it is a nice area. W e didn’t realise how quiet this village was when we leased this pub.’

‘Medbury is off the beaten track,’ agreed Kitty.

‘Yes, but,’ he brightened. ‘We do have plans, we’re going to concentrate on food and try and get a regular clientele and give it a bit of atmosphere. Sheena is working on the menu this morning. She’s going to experiment with a Caribbean theme; she wants to get away from the usual pub grub. Gastro pub I think she calls it.’

‘Good food will attract customers, even out here,’ said Kitty. ‘Well, we’ll look forward to seeing how you get on.’

‘We’ll be launching the new menu in a few weeks, I hope you will be able to come and join us?’

Kitty glanced at Gordon uncertainly. ‘Yes I’m sure we will be able to make it, won’t we?’

‘Wonderful, I’ll be able to tell Sheena that we have had positive feedback already.’

Kitty nodded and smiled faintly at him as he hurried back to the bar.

‘Caribbean?’

‘Hmm... He’s going to have a table reserved for you now.’

‘Oh well, it might be okay, I not sure how that is going to go down with the locals though, I’m sure they would rather have good cooked English food.’

Kitty yawned and rubbed the back of her neck.

‘I’m so tired and stiff, everything is aching and I’m really looking forward to a long soak in the tub tonight. It seems a long time since the removal van came this morning,’ she hesitated. ‘It’s a shame you couldn’t get the day off to help, it would have made it a bit easier.’

‘That’s why I hired that removal company, so they could do the work, not you.’

‘Yes but even so...’

‘I told you that we are really busy at the moment and I couldn’t spare the time Kitty. Now would you like another drink?’

‘No I’ve had enough.’

‘Okay let’s get on back then as you’re tired, we can have an early night. We can finish unpacking in the morning.’

Gordon picked up the empty glasses and took them back to the bar.

‘Thanks,’ he said, ducking his head to avoid the witches.

‘Thank you, hope to see you again,’ called the landlord from behind the bar.

‘I’m sure we will be back and we’ll give your regards to the witch if we see her on the way home.’

The Glaistig of Scotland

The Glaistig is a water faerie who is part alluring woman and part goat. She hides her cloven hooves under long flowing gowns and uses her good looks to entice men to dance with her, and when they are completely under her spell, she feeds on their blood. But on a gentler note she is kind to children and old people. On the island of Iona local women used to leave offerings of milk on the Glaistig Stone every evening as she lived nearby in a cave. In return for this kindness the Glaistig would guard their livestock during the night.

At Lochaber in Scotland a smith once caught a Glaistig and refused to release her until she gave him a herd of cattle; the cattle duly appeared. But the smith was still not satisfied; he demanded a house that neither enemy or faerie could harm.
The Glaistig summoned all the goblins from the surrounding countryside and they set to work building the house. It was completed in one night; the last piece was put in place just as the cock crowed. The goblins disappeared but not the Glaistig as she was still a captive of the smith.
She offered her hand to complete the bargain but the smith , obviously not trusting the faerie, burnt it with a red hot poker. The poor creature ran screaming into the hills where she bled to death. 
The surrounding ground and plants have ever since been stained red with her blood.

Faeries and Folklore of the British Isles