by John Booth
“Mike tells me that five chickens were killed and arranged in a circle with their heads pointing towards the center, like spokes on a wheel. Dark magic, that is.”
Mike was her son and worked nights getting the milking machines ready for the early morning session. He’d be in bed by now.
“The vicar told him they desecrated the graveyard as well.” She seemed to savor the word desecrated a little too much for my liking. “Gravestones were knocked over. That’s pure spite, that is. Attacking the dead.”
“But they’ve been grounded. It must be someone else.”
Me; taking the suspects side? Whatever next?
Mrs. Vernon looked from side to side, as if checking that we weren’t being overheard. Then she gave me a condescending smile, as if I wasn’t as bright as I should be.
“They’re sneaking out at night and hoping we will be as innocent as you, Andrew, and think they didn’t do any of it. Those kids were born wrong, you mark my words. They have the devil in them. That and having daft parents who won’t get the strap out when their kids need it. The worlds going mad.”
“I could be idiots driving over from Sutton, looking to have some fun at our expense?” It had happened before. Drunk Townies with cars are a perennial menace in the area.
“Think nobody would have seen them?”
She had a point. I swear some of the villagers write down the number plates of every strange car that drives past.
“You take care of yourself, Andrew, and keep yourself pure. There’s a lot riding on you. They’ll be more trouble tonight, you mark my words.” With that warning ringing in my ears, Mrs. Vernon took her paper out of my hands and closed the door.
What could possibly be riding on me? For some reason her words sent a shiver through me. Then I laughed at myself. I’d known the usual suspects since they were in nappies and while I didn’t like them; I didn’t think for a minute that they were evil or meant any real harm.
On Friday evening, I took Kylie up to the Long Barrow with Shep, so she could see it up close and admire the view from the top. We trudged up the hillside deep in thought, but when we cleared the tree line she gasped at the view. I sometimes forget how spectacular it is.
“You can see forever.”
“Not in winter, clouds seem to like the valley and sometimes all you can see are the peaks rising through the mist.
“I guess that’s why they call this the Peak District.”
She was teasing me.
“Wow. I’d never have thought of that.”
The elbow in my ribs was worth it, I think.
“It’s a great view.”
“There was a semi-naked woman running about over there. She led me to the tunnel.”
Mentioning the tunnel changed the mood, or maybe it was mentioning the almost naked woman.
“Do you often chase women?”
There was belligerence in her tone.
Shep barked as if trying to distract us. It worked for a few seconds as both of us looked around for unclothed women.
“I was chasing Shep. He was chasing the woman.”
Kylie gave a snarl of a laugh. “Blaming your dog? How pathetic can you get?”
“It’s true,” I replied staring at my shoes. Girls can be really strange sometimes.
“Let’s go back,” Kylie said. I could tell I was out of favor.
As we walked back we heard voices in the distance. Almost without thinking about it we turned in the direction they were coming from. Shep decided this was a hunting game and led us forward, slinking across the ground like his wolf ancestors.
He led us to the fallen oak tree and the gully beside it.
“Do you think it’s the village vandals?” Kylie whispered, her eyes shining. “Let’s sneak up on them.”
I nodded. It was great to be back in her good books again. We snuck forward, bending down to the height of the ferns.
As we got closer, it became clear it was the four oldest usual suspects, Sally, Jane, Brian and Peter. We decided to hide and listen to them talk. I say ‘we’, but the truth was, Kylie held me back and pulled me lower into the ferns.
“This is all your fault, all that magic circles and black candles,” Sally told Peter.
“Brian brought the cat. I never thought he’d get a real one.” Peter retorted. He gave Brian an angry push, which started a fight, with the two boys rolling on the ground punching each other.
“Stop it, you morons,” said Jane, kicking the boys. “It was Sally and me who got walloped, you just got grounded.” The boys pushed at each other on the ground, each wanting to get in the last punch before finally getting up. They began brushing the dirt off their shirts and jeans while avoiding looking at each other.
“My Dad said he’d whip me black and blue if he found out I was lying to him,” Brian grumbled. “That farmer came round complaining and Dad told him if he ever caught me in his fields he could thrash me too.”
“Which is what will happen to all of you when we tell your parents we caught you out in these woods,” Kylie said loudly, standing up and walking towards the four. There was a gratifying look of fear on the kids’ faces.
“You’ll be lucky if you can sit down again this summer when your parents find out,” I added as I straightened up. Scaring the four was fun.
Four voices overlapped as they begged us not to tell anyone. Sally appealed directly to Kylie, “I’ve still got bruises on my bottom. You can look at them if you want?”
“How many of these things have you four been responsible for?” I asked.
“None of them, honest Andrew, it wasn’t us.” Peter sounded as if he might actually be telling the truth, which would have been a first for him, if he really was.
I should tell you, dear journal, that on a purely personal basis, these four have caused me so much grief over the last couple of years that I would have been satisfied with herding them down the hill and letting their parents punish them. Kylie though, had other ideas.
“What was all that magic circle stuff?” she asked and the four went instantly quiet and stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with us. “This is your last chance to speak or we’ll go and tell your parents,” Kylie said in a threatening voice and Sally decided to speak up on behalf of all of them.
“We found this book about magic spells in the loft in Peter’s house. There was a spell that said it would open the door to things forgotten, so we decided to give it a go.”
Sally looked sheepish. “We had to draw this circle with a star in it using a stolen knife and stick candles at each point of the star. Then we had to chant this stuff in a foreign language. You need a dead cat to do the spell as well.” She stopped to stare accusingly at Brian.
“So where is this book?” Kylie asked.
“I put it back.” Peter said quietly.
“When and where did you perform this spell?” I asked, genuinely curious despite myself. I’d never done that sort of thing, but I might have if I had ever had the chance. It sounded cool.
“Here, inside the oak tree. It was our hiding place, but we can’t get in there as it’s tipped over.” Jane said, talking excitedly. “It was last Thursday because there was a full moon and we did it at midnight.”
“But there wasn’t a storm on Thursday,” I pointed out. “The tree must have fallen over weeks ago.”
“The girls did it naked,” Brian said, smirking at me. “That was the only reason I came,” Sally stepped closer to him and thumped him hard in the belly. I winced in sympathy as Brian doubled over, gasping in pain. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to have mentioned that part of the spell.
“It said we had to, in the book,” Jane said, her face glowing bright red. “Peter didn’t chant because he was too scared to get undressed and you had to be naked if you were doing the chanting.”
“But what about the tree?” Kylie asked, while I was wondering why my life had been so dull when I was these kids age. I was beginning to envy the boys. Well not Brian, because it
looked like Sally had hit him lower on the body than I thought and he was writhing on the ground with his hands between his legs. The other three ignored him.
“We finished the chant and were giggling and putting our clothes back on when the tree began to shake,” Sally said
She turned her face away from us before continuing.
“I’d only managed to get my knickers on and had to grab the rest of my clothes and run.”
“And then the tree fell over and we had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit,” Peter told us, obviously enjoying telling us that part of the story.
“Do you actually expect us to believe any of this rubbish?” I asked.
“It’s true, Andrew,” Jane protested. “If you go into the tree you’ll find our magic circle on the floor and the candles.”
I decided to take a hard line with them.
“Which is conveniently impossible to do, because the way in is buried. I think we should take you back to your parents and let them deal with you.” The kids blanched. They had forgotten we had caught them when they were all supposed to be at home in their rooms.
“No, we won’t this time,” Kylie said. “But you four owe us big time and you’ll do anything we ask you to from now on. Now get home before your parents discover you’re missing.”
“Thanks, Kylie,” Sally said quickly, and the four ran off towards the village before we could change our minds. Brian was holding his groin as he ran.
“Did you believe any of that?” I asked in disbelief.
“You’re the one who keeps telling me about ancient legends and stuff,”
“Yes, but…”
“And some strange things have happened to us, haven’t they?” Kylie continued, and I had to agree she was right on that point. I’d almost convinced myself that the whole tunnel and snakes thing had been a dream. But I’m well grounded in reality and I knew it had happened.
“You think those idiots somehow caused what happened to us?” I asked.
“No, But I think they might have woken something up.” Kylie said somberly. I had no answer to that, so we started down the hill. I thought I saw a flash of something white moving in the woodlands, but it was gone when I looked again.
8. Deeds and Demons
Saturday has been a hectic day, what with traipsing off to the police station in Sutton, having to make a statement and everything. My life has certainly livened up recently. But enough of the highlights, I suppose I should tell you the story from the beginning.
Saturday dawned warm and bright. I got up before my parents as I always do, even at the weekend. Because, come sunshine, rain, hail or snow, the village paperboy must be up and out at dawn to perform his sacred rounds. Lord knows what would happen if Mrs. Grayson didn’t get her Daily Mail before she started her breakfast at eight, or if Mr. Jenkins was unable to plan his racing bets in meticulous detail from the sports pages of The Sun. But I’m always there for them and so life in the village glides smoothly on.
I should have suspected something was up when Len Barrowclough, who owns the Post Office/Newspaper shop, wanted me to stop and chat when I picked up the papers.
“Don’t be so eager to be off,” he said, blocking my way out of the shop. “I hear you’ve got a girlfriend. How’s that working out? Being a gentleman, I trust?”
“I’m already late. You’ll have customers banging at the door.”
Len gave a wave and made a piffing sound. “Most of them won’t be up for a couple of hours. Let me put the kettle on and you can tell me all about Kylie over a nice cup of tea.”
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Kylie, and there was a danger I might give away something I shouldn’t. I’d never had so many secrets before, or any, really. Besides, he never delays me unless there’s something he wants.
A thought reared its ugly head.
“I haven’t got the time to help remove the graffiti.”
That was the only thing I could think of. It would take a lot of effort to clean off the paint smeared on the Post Office wall.
“Mike Vernon’s coming round with Terry Bunting this afternoon. We’ll get that off in no time.” Len smiled sympathetically at me. “It’s more you I’m worried about. All this trouble in the village must be unsettling for you. And a girlfriend as well. You know you’re very important to us.”
I had no idea what he was going on about. I had to get out and deliver the papers. He had moved away from the door and I took my chance. I grabbed hold of the door handle.
“Got to go, Len. Maybe we can chat tomorrow.” I left before he could answer.
I was back home by nine and took my parents tea and toast to their marital bed. I’m always careful to knock before I enter, ever since the time I rushed into their room without thinking at age twelve and was traumatized. You don’t expect to catch your parents at that sort of things. They are far too old for a start.
After seeing to my parent’s needs, I prepared my breakfast, I’m a cornflakes followed by toast man, by the way. No sooner had I made the toast and poured the milk than the doorbell rang. As it was only nine thirty, I thought it must be the post man, but it was Kylie and she was in a hurry.
“Get your coat on, we have things to do.”
“We do?” I didn’t remember arranging anything.
“We have to go to Jane Bradshaw’s and see her parents and then we have to go to the police,” Kylie replied enigmatically, but with great verve. Kylie does verve better than anybody I know, apart from my Mum, of course.
“Why? What has she done this time? I would have thought that after last night you’re the last person she would’ve done something too.”
“Don’t you keep up with the news?” Kylie took a slice of toast and started to apply butter and jam to it. I was already pouring her a cup of tea. I may not be versed in the way of girls, but I’d begun to suss out a pattern with this one. She never missed an opportunity to eat. Especially, it seemed, if it was my food she was eating. I moved my bowl of cornflakes further away from her, just as a precaution you understand.
“I could point out that I deliver the newspapers here.”
“Not newspaper news, well not yet.” Kylie’s voice bubbled with excitement. “Though I expect it will be, when word gets out. At six thirty five last night the Vicar’s dog was bludgeoned to death with a rock wrapped in a pullover.”
“Not Blackie!” I cried, utterly appalled. I regularly encounter the other dogs in the village when I take Shep for walks. I liked the Vicar’s dog. He was a young black mongrel and the apple of the Vicar’s eye. The poor man must be distraught. I’d have to go over and give him my condolences as soon as possible. I started looking for my shoes, which I’d taken off when I got home. Mum is very house proud and my shoes are usually in a bit of a state after doing the paper round, so they always end up flung off somewhere in the hall.
“The point is, it was Jane Bradshaw’s pullover.” Kylie said.
Anger at the usual suspects bubbled up inside me.
“I told you we should’ve taken them to their parents. You’re too soft hearted, Kylie. Those brats deserve to be whipped.” I was thinking of poor Blackie, I don’t know how I’ll cope when Shep dies as he’s much more than just my best friend, he’s part of my family, more like my brother than a dog.
“They know the exact time the dog was attacked, because the vicar was in the middle of mass when he heard Blackie bark. When he heard his dog scream in agony, he ran out of the church to find Blackie lying on the ground, dying on a grave.” Kylie continued remorselessly. Filling my head with images I don’t want in there with me.
“I hope they throw the book at her, after her father gives her the thrashing of her life.”
Shep came into the kitchen wondering what the fuss was about and sat in front of me, putting his head on my knees and whining. He could tell I was upset. I tousled his head and told him what a good boy he was.
He put a paw on me and turned his head so I could reach his favorite p
laces to scratch. For a short time, I was lost in caressing my dog and reassuring him it was all right and that no nasty girl would ever attack him. Not and live to tell the tale, anyway.
Kylie waited impatiently until I finished with Shep and then started up again.
“Where exactly were we at six thirty five last night?”
Now that was a stupid question because we were in the woods with… Finally I got her point. We were in the woods with Jane and her cohorts at the time the vicar’s dog had been attacked. There was no way any of them could be responsible for it.
“I see what you mean. But just because it’s her pullover doesn’t mean she’ll get the blame. After all she was supposed to be in her room, wasn’t she?”
“Except that her parents caught her sneaking back into the house at seven thirty.”
“Oh. That would look bad wouldn’t it?”
“The pullover had her name tag in it and the police were round to her house by nine o’clock.” Kylie continued.
“You get very detailed gossip.” And she’s hardly been here any time at all. I felt a small twinge of jealousy.
“Aunt Jen got phoned by Miss Berry late last night with all the juicy details.”
That explained it. Miss Berry was in her eighties and lived opposite the Bradshaw’s. She had had a feud with Jane ever since Mischief Night two years ago when the usual suspects tied up her front door with rope so she couldn’t get out. She would be delighted with the latest turn of events.
“They’ll charge Jane with cruelty to animals and she’ll be found guilty, unless we stop it,” Kylie continued.
“Well, you go then,” I said ungallantly. “I need to go and see the Vicar. He loved Blackie.”
“They might not believe me. But they’ll take your word for it.” Kylie pointed out. I suspected I was pissing her off more than a little with my lack of concern over Jane.
“Why would they take my word for it over yours?”
