He had about ten, fifteen minutes. His mother thought he was doing homework and she’d warned Joe and Millie not to come near him. Fifteen minutes might be enough.
Climbing up, Tom was shocked to discover how much of his house could be seen from the tree. He could see Joe crawling along the back of the sofa with his machine gun tucked under his arm. Tom could even see quite a lot of the upstairs rooms too. There was his mum in the bathroom, reaching into the cupboard for one of Millie’s nappies. All of which made him wonder. Did she sit here, on this branch, watching them? Yew trees never lose their leaves. Tucked up in here, if she kept still, she could watch his family for hours and they’d never know.
Round his neck, tucked into his sweatshirt to keep it safe, he had his dad’s digital camera. He knew how to set the flash, how to focus and how to zoom in and out. He’d practised all yesterday evening, taking pictures of Millie dancing around the living room, and then his dad had showed him how to download them on to the computer. Tom was going to wait until the little girl appeared and take photographs. As many as he could. And then they’d have to believe him. If he could show them pictures they’d know he’d been telling the truth. That he wasn’t mad. Best of all, he’d know he wasn’t mad.
In a couple of hours it could all be over.
45
‘SO WHAT’S THE PLAN, REVEREND? KICK OFF WITH SOME voodoo rites before a spot of ritual sacrifice, quick break for a hot-dog and then zombies rising around midnight?’
‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,’ replied Harry, guiding Evi round two girls who were clinging to each other in the middle of the road. One of them had the glassy-eyed look of the seriously intoxicated. Ahead of them a pink and green firework exploded in the sky. For a second, he could see the sparks reflected in the clouds. Then darkness again.
‘Am too,’ said Evi. ‘I did a project in my first year on crowd psychology. I love seeing it in action.’
A boy in his late teens appeared from one of Heptonclough’s numerous stone alleyways and lurched towards them. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth. ‘Godda light?’ he enquired, before looking into Harry’s face. ‘Oh, sorry, vicar.’ He stumbled away down the hill. Evi gave a soft laugh.
The town was more crowded than Harry had seen it before and he’d been forced to park almost a quarter of a mile down the hill. He’d offered to drop Evi off at the church, so that she could wait for him on the shepherds’ bench, but she’d refused and now they’d joined the others who were walking up the hill towards the bonfire field. The night was heavy with the smell of gunpowder and wood smoke.
Every few seconds, people who were able to move faster passed them. Most turned to nod, wish Harry good evening and stare curiously at Evi. And he really didn’t blame them. In a dark-blue quilted coat the exact colour of her eyes and a matching hat, she might just be the prettiest girl any of them had seen in a long time.
‘What are your professional observations so far?’ he asked.
Evi stretched her neck to look round, then peered up at him. ‘Everything you might expect,’ she said. ‘Kids are excited, so they’re playing up. That makes the parents a bit tetchy – they’re scared of losing them in the dark, so they’ll be over-protective, a bit anxious. That’ll manifest itself as bad temper.’
There was that tiny freckle again, just below her right ear.
‘The older kids will be drinking more than usual,’ she went on. ‘Those old enough to get away with it will be in the pub. The younger ones will have bottles of cider tucked away in dark corners. There’s potential for arguments, even violence, but probably not for another couple of hours.’
If he kissed that freckle, he’d be able to feel the curve of her ear on his cheek, and her hair would tickle his nose.
‘The main problem,’ she said, ‘is that events like this create a certain sense of expectation. Everyone’s waiting for something to happen. People are in a state of anticipation, and if they’re disappointed in some way, then that’s when the trouble will start because they’ll need a vent for their frustration. Are you even listening to me?’
‘Most certainly,’ he said, knowing he was grinning like a fool. ‘Are we still talking about the bonfire?’
The Fletchers left the house just before seven, tucked up in all their warmest clothes. Millie was in her mother’s arms, Joe on his dad’s shoulders and Tom had been told, several times by both parents, that if they lost sight of him for a second they’d cut off his toes. The camera was round his neck.
He’d managed twenty minutes in the churchyard before his mum had appeared at the back door yelling for him. He’d scrambled down the wall and run across the garden, with one hand over the camera to protect it. Once his mother had got the necessary telling-off out of her system, Tom had told her he’d been taking pictures of the sunset for a school project. She’d seemed happy enough. So was he. It hadn’t been a wasted twenty minutes. Oh no. Not wasted at all.
As they reached the top of the hill, Harry suspected Evi was starting to tire. She was less talkative and her pace had noticeably slowed. Why hadn’t she let him drive her up? And would she bite his head off if he suggested stopping to rest for a moment?
‘Can we sit down for a sec?’ asked Evi.
Cute as a button and stubborn as a mule. She was going to be so much trouble; he really had no business being this happy. He steered her over to the shepherds’ bench and they sat down together. Most of the townsfolk had already turned into Wite Lane. He could hear the roar and crackle of the fire and see a faint orange glow above the buildings. Turning to check uphill, he saw that the bone men had all been removed from around the abbey. Apart from the one that he’d handed over to Detective Chief Superintendent Rushton a couple of hours ago. The one that would be checked for fingerprints and other trace evidence over the next few days. He and Rushton had both agreed to say nothing to the Fletchers until they knew more.
‘Was Alice OK when you spoke to her?’ asked Harry. His busy day had continued and he hadn’t been able to answer the phone when Evi had called him earlier. A short message had told him where to pick her up.
‘Yes, she seemed fine.’ Evi was still breathing hard, her cheeks pink. ‘She seemed pretty certain the children all wanted to go to the bonfire. Tom’s developed a keen interest in photography, apparently, and wants to get some good shots. And one of her friends from the town has promised her that nothing sinister happens.’
‘First time for everything,’ muttered Harry.
‘Sorry?’
Harry shook his head. ‘Nothing, go on.’
‘So we decided that, as long as nothing upsets or scares them, doing things as a family will be good for them. And then she insisted I join you all for dinner. She’s sweet.’
‘Nice to see thee with a young lady, Reverend.’
Harry turned from Evi to see three elderly women, including the one who’d admired his legs earlier. She was looking from him to Evi with an evil grin on her face. ‘I always says how vicars should be married,’ she finished. That wasn’t a grin, it was a leer. Evi gave a soft snigger at his side and he felt his cheeks glowing. Lucky it was dark.
‘No, no, Mrs Hawthorn,’ he called. ‘Dr Oliver is a colleague. All strictly professional.’
Minnie Hawthorn’s two friends had joined in. All three of them stood grinning at him like something from a pantomime version of Macbeth. Witch Hawthorn looked at Evi, then back at Harry. ‘Aye lad,’ she agreed, nodding her woollen-capped head. ‘Ah can see that.’
Tittering, the three of them followed the crowd along Wite Lane, Minnie Hawthorn glancing back at the last second. Did she just wink at him?
‘There’s no fooling the old crones,’ said Harry quietly.
‘We should get on,’ said Evi. ‘I’m fine now. And we haven’t even seen the Fletchers yet.’
‘Hang on a sec. While I have your full attention, there’s something else you should know.’
A loud bang made them both jump. A shower of
gold shot into the air over Evi’s head and disappeared into ever-thickening cloud. The ruined walls of the old abbey stood out sharply against the brief flash of light. They looked strangely empty without the bone men, although one of them seemed to have been left behind.
Harry dropped his eyes to look directly at Evi. ‘I bumped into Gillian today,’ he said.
As predicted, Evi’s face stiffened. She opened her mouth and he held up one hand to stop her. ‘I know you’re not allowed to talk about her,’ he said, ‘but there’s nothing to stop me from doing it, so just listen.’
Yes, there was definitely still one of the bone men left in the ruin, he could see a figure in the window of the tower. He had to concentrate, this was important. He made himself look down at Evi, not too difficult really. ‘She was in the grounds of her old house, close to hysterical,’ he said. ‘Clutching one of her daughter’s toys. I had to drive her home, but she was barely functioning. Her mother arrived after a few minutes, which was—’
‘Her mother?’
‘Yes. I only met her today. She was quite happy to take over, so I left. But the thing is, we all thought Gillian was getting better. People say she’s improved enormously over the last few weeks, pretty much since she’s been seeing you, but today I was worried. She talks about her daughter in a way that doesn’t seem normal. She said the girl was haunting her. She wanted me to carry out an exorcism.’
Evi was looking at the bench. He couldn’t see her eyes. Another firework hit the sky. He’d been mistaken about the figure. The tower window was empty.
‘I just thought you should know,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ said Evi, to the bench.
Harry took a deep breath. ‘And also,’ he said, ‘I hope it goes without saying that even if she weren’t seriously emotionally damaged and obviously in need of ongoing professional help, that never in a million years would I even consider … do I really need to say it?’
‘No,’ whispered Evi.
‘Thank you.’
‘But …’ She looked up.
‘Why is there always a but?’ asked Harry, wondering if holding hands might count as unprofessional.
‘Let’s just say, hypothetically, that I could see a potential conflict of interest in my treatment of a patient,’ said Evi. ‘The correct procedure would be to find a colleague suitable to take over the case. But that can’t always happen instantly. And the wishes of the patient have to be taken into account. They may not want to be referred. And as long as someone remains my patient, his or her interests have to remain my priority.’
‘Understood.’ Harry stood up and held out his hand to Evi. She took it, rose to her feet and then took his arm again. They crossed the now empty street and turned into Wite Lane.
The bone men were in a circle around the bonfire, being held upright by people who were dressed in black with black paint on their faces. ‘It’s just face paint,’ Tom’s mum kept saying to no one in particular. ‘Look, that’s Mr Marsden from the paper shop.’ Tom knew his mother meant well but she was wasting her breath. He knew they were people dressed in black. But when they kept to the shadows they could hardly be seen at all. As they’d walked past the family just minutes earlier, it had almost looked as if the bone men were moving by themselves. Now they were standing around the fire, bone men at the front, shadow men standing behind them. Then, forming another circle some distance back were people from the town. Tom and his family had stayed behind in the lane. Joe was still on his dad’s shoulders and Tom was on the wall, just behind his mum, who was starting to mutter about how long the rain was going to hold off. He could see easily over the heads of the crowd to the circle of bone men and the fire in the middle. It really was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.
It was hard, taking his eyes away even for a second, but he had to keep looking round. She was here somewhere, he knew it. She wouldn’t miss this.
As Harry and Evi crossed the street a bicycle ridden by a boy dressed all in black and with a black face came speeding past them. Sparklers blazed from the handlebars. He glared at Harry, before speeding away down the hill.
‘Friend of yours?’ asked Evi
‘Hardly,’ Harry replied. ‘That’s Tom Fletcher’s number-one enemy, a boy called Jake Knowles. I got him in trouble the day I arrived here. He’s never forgiven me. And he’s the prime suspect in the Millie-on-the-church-gallery debacle.’ Harry thought for a second. Had Jake Knowles been responsible for the effigy of Millie in the church? It was disturbed behaviour, even by the standards of a delinquent schoolboy.
‘I think he’s one of the boys who scared Duchess the day I fell off,’ said Evi. ‘I recognized the bike.’
‘Figures.’
There were no streetlights in Wite Lane. Torches, old-fashioned ones with real flames, had been fastened to walls and fences to light the way. Harry could smell the kerosene as they walked past. As the cobbles gave way to weeds, Evi stumbled and fell against Harry.
‘You know, I’m sure it would be easier for you if I put my arm around your waist,’ he offered.
‘Nice try, Vicar. I need a few drinks before that one will work.’
‘I thought you didn’t drink.’
She had a little smile on her face like a cat. ‘I said I’m not supposed to. I never said I didn’t.’
Harry laughed. ‘Finally, my day is starting to pick up.’
No sign of her so far, but Tom knew she’d be extra careful with all these people around. She’d be in the shadows somewhere, behind a wall, maybe on a low roof. Looking through the camera lens made it easier for him to search. There was less chance of being distracted and no one could tell that he was doing anything other than waiting for good photographs. He was still on the wall. How people could stand closer to the fire than he was, Tom had no idea. Its heat on his face was just about tolerable, but the crowd in the field were only yards away from the blaze. Then there were the shadow men, closer still, and then – although he didn’t suppose they would mind the heat – the bone men themselves. What were they waiting for? Harry and Evi had joined them and they were all just standing, waiting.
Harry was beginning to understand what Evi meant about a sense of expectation. He could see it in the faces of those around him, like people in a sale queue, waiting for the shop doors to open. They were trying to talk to their neighbours, making an effort to look unconcerned, but their eyes kept flicking to the grim circle in the field – who must surely be about to burn up, they were standing so close to the fire. In fact, they seemed even closer than when he and Evi had arrived, as though the fire was drawing them in. A sudden movement to his right caught his attention. He turned. Gillian was standing three yards away, very close to the gate of her old house, staring directly at him. She was wearing his coat.
The bone men were drawing closer to the fire. Tom had been watching them, he’d even let the camera fall loose around his neck. very slowly, the people holding them were taking small steps forward. How could they? How could they stand the heat? The noise of the crowd was dying down as well. One by one, it seemed, people were falling silent and turning to watch the bone men move steadily closer to the flames.
*
‘Harry, listen to me.’
Evi was talking to him, in a low voice that he struggled to hear above the roar of the fire. He tore his gaze away and bent lower.
‘I’m not happy,’ she said directly into his ear. ‘Something’s going to happen.’
He stretched up and looked back at the fire. The whole town, it seemed, was gathered around it in a massive circle. Less than a dozen people – including him and Evi, Gillian and the Fletcher family – were still in the lane. ‘What?’ he said, bending back down to her. ‘What’s going to happen?’
‘I think they’re building up for some sort of dare-devil stunt,’ she said. ‘I think most of these people know what it is and I think it sometimes goes wrong. Since we arrived tonight I’ve seen two people with fairly serious burns on their faces. And people are
nervous. Look at them.’
She was right. Couples had moved closer together. Parents were holding tightly to children. Men with beer glasses in their hands had stopped drinking. All eyes except his and Evi’s were on the fire. On the circle of men around it.
They were waiting. Tom didn’t know what for. He’d given up trying to take photographs, he didn’t want to miss what was going to happen next. Not far away from them a kid starting crying – for a second he thought it was Millie. Another three, possibly four steps and those bone men would be in the fire. They were made of straw and old rags, how could they possibly—
One of them was on fire. A stray spark must have caught it, because what a second ago had been a human-shaped figure was now a mass of flames being held high in the air.
‘We honour the dead!’
Tom didn’t know where the shout came from, but as it rang out across the moor the flaming bone man was flung high into the air. It landed almost on the summit of the fire and within seconds had melted into the whole. Someone higher on the moor, maybe on Morrell Tor, released a firework. It shot into the sky and it seemed as though the dead man’s soul was heading upwards.
Another of the bone men was alight and flying through the air. Another firework. Then a third bone man and a fourth. More fireworks. The crowd watched as, one by one, the bone men caught fire and were thrown on to the bonfire. As each one took to the air, the same shout went up.
‘We honour the dead!’
Some of the bone men must have had fireworks in their pockets, because coloured sparks started to shoot out of the fire in all directions. People in the crowd began to squeal and turn away. Just in front of Tom, his dad pulled Joe off his shoulders and put him on the ground. Alice, with Millie in her arms, took a step back and Tom felt his dad pull him down off the wall. Then the fire collapsed into the ground.
‘What in the …?’
Harry stepped forward, leaving Evi behind by the wall. He was vaguely aware of Gareth Fletcher instructing his family to stay where they were. The two men strode forward until they could step up on to the fence and get a better view.
S. J. Bolton Page 20
