Village Secrets

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘Go to bed – how can I? I shan’t sleep a wink.’

  ‘Of course you will.’ He kissed her cheek again, his face full of excitement.

  ‘I think I’ll come with you. I shall be dressed in a trice.’

  ‘Absolutely not, my dear. I cannot allow it.’

  Reluctantly, Muriel acquiesced. ‘Very well then, but take care, Ralph, you’re all I’ve got.’

  ‘Muriel! But someone has to get rid of these people, haven’t they – and who better than me?’

  ‘No one better than you.’ They heard a knock at the door. ‘Off you go.’

  ‘I’ll try not to wake you when I get back.’

  Muriel couldn’t help smiling. How on earth did he think she was going to sleep with all this going on? As he left to go downstairs to answer the door she called over the banister, ‘And they haven’t got turnips for heads! Remember!’

  Ralph chuckled as he opened the front door to Peter and Jimbo.

  The three of them walked through Ralph’s house into the garden and then via his back gate into Pipe and Nook Lane. They climbed over the stone wall and stood quietly conferring.

  ‘There’s no cover at all. I think the best thing is to walk round the perimeter anti-clockwise, don’t you?’ whispered Jimbo.

  ‘And come up on the lee-side of the door, so to speak? Yes, I agree. Let’s keep well into the hedge.’ Ralph led the way. He had his walking stick with him and he noticed Jimbo had one too. Peter had come unarmed.

  The sky, still sombre and looming after the storm, afforded little light for their walk. Ralph set a steady pace and Peter remembered his heart attack and wondered whether it was wise for Ralph to have come. But there was no stopping him once he’d made up his mind. Above the heads of Jimbo and Ralph he could see the barn. There was a glimmer of light through the opening at the top of the roof. They must surely be there then. In his heart, Peter was dreading the confrontation. Who would they find? A few women in need of excitement like Ellie had said, or an evil woman set on devilry? A few sad teenagers lulled into believing like Rhett had been, or serious opposition? Real danger from a handful of fanatics, or two illicit lovers having found a safe place to meet? Then they really would feel foolish.

  They arrived at the barn rather sooner than Peter would have wished. Listening below the opening at the apex of the roof they could hear very little: the murmur of voices, rustling of feet, nothing more.

  Ralph went quietly round the end of the barn to the huge door set midway in the long wall. He couldn’t get it open. The three of them stood holding their breath but no one inside appeared to have noticed they were trying to get in. The door was made to open outwards and it took all Peter’s strength to budge it. He did it slowly, slowly, daring it to creak. He slipped inside first, followed by Ralph and then Jimbo.

  At the far end, an altar had been made from an upended bale of hay. Glowing black candles were balanced precariously on it. On top of the bales which were stacked two and three high against the walls, about twenty more candles had been lit to illuminate the great barn. Six people, all dressed in black, were standing within a circle drawn on the floor of the barn. In the light of the candle-flames Peter could recognise Simone, Venetia, Valda and Thelma Senior, Ellie and … he couldn’t believe it … Kate. He wiped the sweat from his top lip and glanced at Ralph and then at Jimbo. They were quite motionless. Eyes wide. Staring.

  The candles cast wavering shadows on the walls of the barn and on the bales of hay. The air was filled by the smell of the burning wax and, overlaying that, the reek of old dry-as-dust hay. The combined stench was suffocating. Peter shuddered. The group was chanting. There was a strange feeling in the air – a menacing atmosphere by which a man of his calibre and outlook should not be affected. But he couldn’t help it. It was like being in church yet not, just as Rhett had said. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Peter could feel his spine begin to tingle. He and Jimbo and Ralph were still undetected. The figures in black were too intensely involved in their chanting, to be aware of the three men standing in the shadows by the door.

  There was a movement just beyond him on his left. Instinctively, he flicked his head to see what the threat was. There was Cat crouching high up on a bale. Her tail wagged furiously from side to side, the movement of it playing a sinister dancing pattern on the wall behind her. Suddenly Cat leapt down to the earth floor, and covered the distance between herself and Peter in less time than he believed possible. She sprang and yowled at the same moment. Her claws, like a dozen fine needles, sank into his leg. He bit his lip to stop himself from shouting out and alerting the worshippers, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Cat’s spiteful howl had broken the absorption of the group swaying in the circle. It took them a moment to focus, for their minds were so completely out of this world, that they couldn’t take in what had happened. When they did, their reaction was like that of Cat’s.

  None of the three men had fought with a woman before but they were doing it now. Only Kate stood back; the other five were clawing, biting, kicking, clutching, grabbing, screeching. As they struggled and fought, they cannoned into the bales of hay and the candles wobbled dangerously. Some fell to the floor. Small fires began here and there but no one noticed.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Kate screamed. She rushed forward to try to pull the women away, first one and then another. But her meagre strength could do nothing with these maniacal figures. Ralph in desperation began hitting out with his walking stick, threatening rather than striking. Cat clawed and bit whenever the opportunity arose, and the pain of that, combined with the utter surprise of these wild women attacking them, almost overwhelmed the men.

  Jimbo, who was nearest to the door, managed to push it open again and get out into the field. ‘Come on! Come on!’ he shouted.

  The rush of cold air sharpened Peter’s wits, ‘THAT WILL DO! STOP IT THIS INSTANT,’ he bellowed.

  He gained a moment’s respite and he used it to say again: ‘THAT WILL DO. STOP NOW!’

  But Simone wouldn’t stop. She was the one least influenced by him. Howling like a banshee, she went behind the altar with the candles still burning on it, came out with a knife in her hand and lunged straight towards Peter, her eyes wild with hate.

  Kate saw her intention and darted at Simone. She pushed her back; Simone ricocheted against the altar and more candles fell over. In a second the loose hay scattered on the floor flared up.

  Ralph, looking round and realising that the fire was catching hold, saw their danger. ‘Get out, everyone! Get out!’ he shouted. But the foot-wide gap afforded by the open door impeded their escape.

  Jimbo tried to open it further from the outside but couldn’t. One by one, the women struggled out. Then Ralph. Then last of all Peter. They stood gasping for air, their struggle forgotten in the fear of being burned alive. Peter was standing bent over, his hands gripping his thighs trying to get his breath back so he could speak.

  ‘Who’s missing?’ Ralph shouted. ‘There’s someone missing!’

  No one answered him, for just then a column of rats streaked through the gap of the door and squeezed out through the rotting places at the bottom, young and old, large and small, tumbling over each other in their rush to escape. The women screamed and they all hastily leapt about to avoid the rats running over thier feet. They could hear the scrabbling of their feet and the rush of their bodies through the grass as they fled certain death.

  When their panic had subsided, Ralph looked around. ‘Simone’s not here,’ he said.

  Peter rapidly counted heads. ‘You’re right. Stay there – I’ll go in!’Jimbo went ahead of him but neither of them could see anything at all. The barn was filled with acrid smoke and scorching flames.

  ‘We can’t leave her.’

  ‘We can’t see. ’Jimbo began coughing.

  ‘She was by the altar.’

  Jimbo grabbed Peter’s arm. ‘Get out, come on – out!’

  The smoke made Peter’s eyes stream with tears. ‘W
e can’t leave her,’ he said again.

  ‘Get out! And that’s an order!’ he grabbed Peter’s arm and hauled him through the door. ‘Ralph – tell him he’s not going back in!’

  Kate was weeping. Venetia cried too, thick rivulets of mascara running down her cheeks. Valda and Thelma stood rigid with shock. Ellie was retching into the long grass. Of Cat there was no sign. The flames were leaping at the barn door and licking at the openings at each end. It was an inferno. No one could be alive in there now.

  ‘The fire brigade!’ Peter shouted. ‘We need the fire brigade!’ Jimbo dragged his mobile phone out of his pocket and was punching in 999 when they heard shouting.

  Across the field from the direction of the Big House they could see someone. It was Jeremy, lumbering along as fast as he could.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he called out. ‘What on earth’s happened? Have you seen Venetia?’

  Jimbo waved his mobile phone. ‘She’s over there. I’m just phoning the fire brigade.’

  ‘God! What the hell is going on? How did it start?’ Venetia ran into Jeremy’s arms. ‘Steady on, old girl. I say, steady on. You’re all right now.’ He clumsily rubbed her back as he comforted her.

  Venetia moaned, ‘Take me home, take me home.’

  Peter was too distraught at the thought of Simone’s death to take Jeremy aside and explain. He had to leave that to Ralph.

  Jeremy shuddered. ‘Simone? Oh no! Can’t we get her out? Surely we can.’

  Jimbo told him hoarsely: ‘We can’t get in, it’s a wall of fire in there. Believe me, we’ve tried.’

  They stood stricken as the flames roared. The huge wooden beams of the roof withstood the heat for a while but there was a sudden deafening roar and the roof began collapsing. Instinctively they retreated and helplessly watched Simone’s funeral pyre.

  Peter caught Jeremy’s eye and looked questioningly at him, but the other man, shamefaced, avoided his eyes. Peter guessed he’d known all the time what Venetia was doing.

  ‘I’ll go and open the field gate for the engine,’ Peter said and sprinted across the field towards the gate which was further down Pipe and Nook Lane beyond the rectory. As he rushed past, he saw Caroline standing at the end of their garden. He waved and shouted, ‘Don’t worry, we’re all fine! Just opening the gate for the fire brigade.’ The gate was held shut by a complication of chains but thankfully no padlock. On his way back, Peter stopped to speak to her. ‘We can’t do anything – the fire engine’s going to be far too late. The roof’s already going. Can’t stop.’ He embraced her briefly.

  ‘Peter, for God’s sake be careful,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Of course!’

  Five minutes afterwards the engine carefully negotiated the open gate and humped and bumped its way across the field, the large crowd which had gathered in the last few minutes separating to make way for it.

  ‘Heaven help us, whatever next!’

  ‘Thank God nobody’s inside!’

  ‘But Sir Ralph said …’

  ‘Simone? No!!’

  ‘Them poor kids!’

  ‘Oooh! They’ll be all on their own. Poor little devils!’

  Peter was devastated. If they hadn’t interfered, Simone would be alive still, and some harmless tampering with the devil would have, in all likelihood, soon fizzled out. Jeremy had taken Venetia home. Valda and Thelma still stood in silent shock. Ellie was clinging to the sergeant’s arm and impeding his activities. Kate stood watching alone. He went across to speak with her.

  It was difficult to talk. The noise of the fire-engine pump, the shouts of the men and the sound of the water pulsating onto the flames made conversation almost impossible. They’d put up the ladder from the engine now and were pumping water into the barn through one of the openings. Peter drew her to one side away from the noise and the ears of the crowd.

  ‘Kate!’ His reproachful tone brought tears to her eyes. She looked up at him, her face illuminated by the searchlight on the engine.

  ‘I came to ask her to stop, but somehow …’

  ‘Well, she’s gone now, God rest her soul, so it can all stop. For good.’

  ‘I’ve been punished for it, haven’t I?’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Cat’s not come out.’

  ‘Ah! Cat.’ Peter rubbed his leg where Cat’s claws had struck. ‘I deeply regret what’s happened tonight, but it does put an end to Simone’s bizarre influence, doesn’t it? If the sergeant’s finished with you, I’ll see you home. I’ve already spoken with him. He’ll be taking proper statements in the morning when they’ve … you know.’

  Kate’s face looked girm. ‘Found the body, you mean.’ Something occurred to her. ‘Peter! The children! She left them on their own when she came to the meetings.’

  Before he could answer, Caroline was at his elbow. Startled to find her there, his immediate thought was for his own children. ‘The twins – what have you done with them?’ he asked brusquely.

  ‘Calm down, calm down, Sylvia’s with them. I just had to come. Kate, you OK?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  Caroline looked devastated. ‘Dreadful thing to have happened, really dreadful.’

  Peter said, ‘Kate’s just reminded me of Simone’s children. She left them in the cottage on their own.’

  ‘I’ll go to little Derehams straight away and check on the poor things. I’ll just fetch the car.’

  ‘We’ll come too. You mustn’t go by yourself – heaven alone knows what you might find. Come on, Kate. Sergeant! We’re going to see to Simone’s children. Will you take Ms Pascoe’s statement tomorrow?’

  ‘Certainly, sir. We can do no more here tonight.’

  Peter drove the car to Little Derehams, Caroline beside him, Kate in the back. He caught the occasional sound of her weeping but he didn’t comment. She had more than enough to weep about, and he blamed her for a lot of what had happened. His leg was stinging and he’d be glad to get a chance to look at it. But first things first.

  The back door was shut but unlocked. Kate went in first and her fingers searched the wall for the light switch. When she pressed it, no light came on.

  ‘The electricity’s been cut off!’

  Caroline went back to the car for a torch. The beam showed them the utter chaos of the cottage. Caroline was speechless. She shone the torch along the walls to find another switch and picked her way carefully towards it. But nothing happened when she turned it on. ‘You’re right, there’s no power. How could they do it when there’s five small children in the house? It’s unbelievable.’

  At this moment Dickon piped up: ‘Simone? Simone?’

  Kate said ‘It’s all right, Dickon, it’s only me. Ms Pascoe from the school.’

  He stood up on the sofa cushions, his blanket in his hand. Tonight he didn’t even have a vest to wear.

  Kate went towards him. ‘Where’s the light, Dickon? We can’t see.’

  ‘Oil-lamp. Got no matches.’

  Caroline ran her fingers despairingly through her hair. ‘Dear Lord. What are we going to do?’

  As they stood motionless trying to take in the deprivations the children had been forced to tolerate, they heard a hesitant fumbling on the staircase. Caroline turned the beam of the torch towards the sound.

  Florentina, Valentine and Hansel were creeping quietly down. They were dressed in an odd assortment of clothes – not quite nightclothes and not quite day-clothes. The moment Valentine saw them he began screaming. He struggled down the last three steps, stumbled his way over to Dickon and, pulling him down from the sofa, flung his arms around him and howled.

  Florentina, rubbing her eyes, said, ‘Go away.’

  ‘The baby. Where’s the baby?’

  She nodded her head in the direction of the bedroom. Caroline found the baby sound asleep in a large drawer on the floor; it smelt as though its nappy hadn’t been changed all day. The bedroom stank of unwashed bodies, of bed-wetting and sheer neglect. Caroline retched.

  *r />
  ‘They’ve found her body. She and Cat were together. We think she stayed behind to rescue Cat and then—’

  ‘Peter, please! I can’t bear it. We’re all to blame – us, the school, social services. Every manjack of us.’

  ‘We weren’t to blame for this witchcraft business. That was her decision entirely. That’s when everything began to go wrong.’

  ‘They never appeared desperately neglected before all this, did they? They used to be clean and reasonably well fed, but as Kate said, this last few months Dickon and Florentina were useless where school was concerned. Too tired, too hungry, never there. Where are they now?’

  ‘A temporary foster home has been found for them all in Culworth. At least they’ll be clean and well-fed and cared for there.’

  ‘And Kate – what was her explanation for being at the bam?’

  ‘She’d gone to ask Simone to stop, and then kind of couldn’t resist her influence.’

  ‘I shouldn’t say this, but we’re well rid of her and that bloody cat.’

  ‘Caroline!’

  ‘It’s true. Not even you could have brought her to her senses.’

  Peter drew back the curtains and looked out at the fading light. ‘What a night! What a day!’

  ‘It was hell this morning in the surgery. I don’t mind telling you, if I made a correct diagnosis it was only by sheer chance. I felt and I’m told looked dreadful.’

  ‘You were brave to go. I’ve had a dreadful day too, full of recrimination and despair.’

  He was totally drained, his inner resources leached from him by the flood of people seeking his comfort and reassurance wherever he went.

  His early-morning prayers in church had been interrupted by a remorseful Venetia. She had come in and knelt beside him in the war memorial chapel and wept bitter tears. ‘Can I come to confession? Do you do that sort of thing?’

  ‘No. You have a direct line to God, Venetia. You don’t need me like some kind of holy telephone exchange.’