The Doll

by Elizabeth Andrews

  ‘They are having a discussion about our trip this morning,’ he said.

  ‘You’re going out in this?’ she replied, looking out into the snow covered garden. ‘Where?’

  ‘To see a friend of Queenie’s.’

  ‘She’s no friend of mine,’ Queenie snapped, turning her attention to the young couple. ‘She’s a manipulative cantankerous old bag!’

  ‘And that’s why I have to accompany you this morning,’ exclaimed Sybil, ‘to keep the peace.’

  Queenie turned an exasperated gaze on her sister. ‘I don’t know what you think I am going to do to her.’

  ‘I am more concerned about what she will do to you!’

  Queenie bridled. ‘Oh really! I am more than capable of dealing with that old woman.’

  ‘You are an old woman yourself, Queenie.’

  ‘And you are a liability, you old fool, and that’s why you are staying here!’

  ‘How can you say that to me?’ Sybil whimpered, raising a shaky hand to her face. ‘After everything we have been through!’

  ‘Because it’s true!’ replied Queenie crossly and paused in horrified amazement as Sybil began to sob loudly into a lacy handkerchief she had pulled from her pocket. ‘Sybil! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean it!’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ she wailed. ‘I do my best and that’s all the thanks I get.’

  ‘That’s not true; you know you are always helpful.’

  ‘No, I realise now, I just hold you back. You are better off without me. I’ll get on the bus and go back to Devon as soon as possible and leave you in peace. I don’t want to be a burden.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s alright dear, I realise I am useless, good for nothing but knitting and babysitting,’ she sniffed into her handkerchief. ‘Everybody would be better off without me.’

  Queenie’s face paled and she said hastily, ‘All right, all right. You can come.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I promise.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sybil, calmly replacing the handkerchief into her pocket. She met the dawning expression of outrage on her sister’s face with a bland smile.

  ‘You!’ Queenie spluttered, ‘deceitful old woman!’

  ‘Yes, I learnt from the master,’ she replied, looking amused. ‘A few tears and you are such a push over Queenie.’ She then smiled brightly at Paul who was doing his best not to laugh. ‘And what time are we planning on going?’

  ‘Breakfast first,’ he suggested quickly before Queenie could say anything. ‘Although I will have to dig the car out first before we can go. But,’ he said, glancing out of the window as the first warm rays of the sun appeared over the rooftops, ‘it looks like it’s going to be a nice day so hopefully the roads will clear.’

  It was later than they had planned before they could leave. The drive was deep in snow and it took an hour before Paul, with the help of his daughters, were able to clear enough of the drifts to move the Vicar’s Land Rover.

  The sisters were ready for him by the time he had finished, wrapped in coats and scarves; they waited silently at the table while Victoria fixed a thermos of coffee for the trip. They had been joined in the kitchen by Patricia. She had taken the chair next to Queenie and sat there silent and pale as the children swarmed into the warm room chattering and laughing.

  ‘Morning Pat,’ Paul said as he closed the door against the chill air, ‘how are you feeling?’

  She stirred and turned her blank gaze on him before rousing herself to answer. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked in concern, looking at her pale face.

  ‘Alright I think, I...had the strangest dreams,’ she said falteringly, her voice trailed off and she slowly turned away to continue staring blankly into space.

  ‘She is still very upset,’ whispered Victoria in her husband’s ear. ‘Do you think I should call Dr Barker and see if he could make a house call?’

  ‘You could try,’ he said, ‘whether he will be able to make it in this weather is another thing.’

  She nodded and looked at Patricia. ‘I will call,’ she said decisively. ‘I’m worried about her.’

  Paul nodded. ‘Okay.’ He hesitated then said in a low voice. ‘And try and keep the children inside until I am home.’

  ‘I will, but be careful Paul, please.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ he said, trying to sound confident.

  A small crucifix dangled from the rear view mirror and as Queenie clambered into the front seat of the Land Rover she glanced at Paul. ‘Insurance?’

  ‘I thought it would be a good idea,’ he confessed. ‘It seemed to work last time.

  ‘It won’t hurt,’ piped in Sybil, who had wedged herself in the back seat with the spare blankets and thermos. ‘Any port in a storm, as they say.’

  They sat quietly as Paul started the car and slowly pulled out of the drive. A few cars had already passed by the vicarage struggling along the snowy road, leaving deep ruts behind them.

  ‘Here goes,’ he said and bumped over the frozen drifts to join the road.

  A few hardy pedestrians were milling about in front of the bakers and small supermarket as they ground their way up through the High Street; the road was quiet, only a handful of vans and four by fours were chancing the slippery roads.

  The Monkey Jump roundabout at the top of the town was deserted and they got across to join the coast road with no problems apart from skidding on a few patches of black ice. Deep snow drifts lay on either side of the road where a snow plough had passed earlier leaving just a single track to follow. It was deserted apart from a white van which struggled on just in front of them.

  ‘It’s not too bad here,’ Paul said, breaking the silence.

  ‘It won’t be clear up on the hill,’ Queenie stated. ‘We might need to get out and walk.’

  ‘Walk, in this?’ said Sybil.

  ‘It won’t kill us.’

  ‘It might,’ she replied.

  ‘You wanted to come!’ pointed out Queenie tersely.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Paul put in quickly. ‘If we can’t get through to her cottage then we should call it off.’

  ‘No,’ said Queenie firmly. ‘We’re going.’

  He lapsed back into frustrated silence and concentrated on the icy road.

  The brake lights of the van in front sporadically flickered on and off as the driver struggled with the icy conditions; even at their slow pace they gained on it until it was just a few metres in front. Its lights flickered again as it slewed across the road and Paul quickly braked, swerving to one side to avoid hitting it. The van straightened and struggled on, hugging the middle of the road.

  ‘What is he doing?’ Paul muttered to himself, craning his neck to look past the crawling vehicle. ‘The road seems clear enough.’

  It came to a stop on the brow of the hill, brake lights on and exhaust fumes billowing out into the chill air.

  Paul pulled the land rover to one side assuming that another vehicle was approaching up the slope but nothing appeared. The van just sat there with its engine idling until Paul became impatient and sounded the horn.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Get a move on!’

  ‘Can’t you get past?’ enquired Queenie, trying to see past the parked vehicle.

  Sybil leant forward and gently nudged her sister. ‘I don’t like this,’ she said quietly in her ear. ‘I get the feeling that this isn’t a coincidence.’

  Queenie pursed her lips, reached over and sounded the horn, three sharp blasts and still no movement from within the van.

  ‘Perhaps the driver is ill,’ suggested Paul doubtfully. ‘I should go and check.’ He released his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

  ‘Don’t be so hasty Paul,’ said Queenie, laying a hand on his arm. ‘Just drive past and we will have a look.’

  ‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘Then we will give assistance if needed.’ He dropped it into low gear and steered the vehicle towar
ds the drifts at the side of the road. The wheels slipped and slithered but the land rover ploughed on through the deep snow slowly inching past the stopped van. As they drew level they peered across. The driver was staring blankly out of the front windscreen, his hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel. As they drove past he turned his head to meet Queenie’s gaze. A trickle of blood ran from his nostrils as he stared sightlessly at the occupants of the land rover.

  ‘He is hurt!’ exclaimed Paul. ‘I’m going to stop.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said doubtfully, staring into the cab of the van. ‘Something doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Just let me pull in front, I will go and check and see if there is anything I can do to help.’

  He slowly guided the vehicle back onto the road intending to stop just in front of the van but as they drew away the driver’s expression quickly changed. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and he slammed a bloody fist against the side window then threw back his head and howled.

  ‘Wow,’ said Queenie. ‘Now I wasn’t expecting that!’

  The van door flew open and the man half toppled out into the snow; in his hand he held a length of copper pipe. The blood dripping from his nose stained the snow beneath his feet as he lurched towards them brandishing the impromptu weapon.

  ‘Still want to help him, Paul?’ Queenie asked drily.

  Paul silently shook his head and put his foot down on the accelerator just as the man swung the piece of pipe at the rear window. It bounced off with a clang cracking the glass.

  ‘Hurry!’ exclaimed Sybil, staring out the back window. ‘He’s running after us.’

  ‘I can’t go too fast; we’ll end up in a ditch!’

  She watched anxiously as he ran awkwardly after them, slithering along the icy ruts but as they gathered speed he drew to a halt and slowly sank to his knees in the snow.

  ‘Look!’ whispered Sybil as a black crow appeared over the man. It hovered briefly over his bowed head then began with a few powerful beats of its wings to follow the land rover. ‘Queenie!’ she said urgently.

  ‘I see it,’ she replied, watching the bird in the side mirror.

  The crow drew alongside and kept pace with the vehicle as they approached the old Roman road that led to Eggardon Hill, where it quickly rose high into the sky and was joined by two more.

  They lost sight of the birds as a sudden squall blew a heavy drift of snow across the road, the sky went dark and the wind blew harder whirling the fallen snow from the drifts up and around the vehicle until Paul had to admit defeat and brought the car to a complete stop. They sat in silence as the storm battered at the side of the land rover piling the snow against the windows. The wipers struggled to keep the front windscreen free but even then they could only just see the road in front.

  It was blocked. No vehicles had passed that way since the snow had begun to fall and Paul looked in dismay at the deep drifts.

  ‘We can’t go up there,’ he said.

  ‘I thought you said this was a four by four?’ sniffed Queenie, as she began to fumble with her seat belt.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m going to walk,’ she replied, opening the door and letting a blast of snow laden air into the car. ‘You can stay here if you want to!’

  He seized her arm and pulled back into the seat. ‘No, you’re not,’ he snapped, angry spots of red in his cheeks. ‘I can’t let you do that, not in this storm.’ He reached across her and slammed the door. ‘Just let me go and have a look!’ He threw open his own door and jumped out onto the slippery road.

  The snow in the side road came over his ankles as he tentatively stepped forward. Paul stopped and gazed in despair up the impassable road.

  Above him a rough croak echoed across the silent snowy hills as the three birds slowly circled the Land Rover and without further comment Paul got back into the driver’s seat, put the car into gear and began edging towards the turning.

  Sybil peered through the snowy window and looked up at the sky where the crows were hovering above the vehicle.

  ‘All three are here now,’ she observed. ‘I wonder what else they are planning?’

  ‘Nothing good, I’m sure,’ muttered Queenie, keeping her eyes on the road as Paul slowly turned into the choked entrance, the wheels span and churned over the drifts but the vehicle slowly inched forward. Hands clenched on the wheel he stared fixedly ahead trying to guide the car through the worst of the drifts.

  ‘How far is the cottage?’

  ‘About seven miles,’ Queenie muttered, holding tightly to the edge of the seat as the vehicle jerked to one side. ‘Then we have to drop down the hill on the other side, her cottage is on the right.’

  He swung round momentarily losing concentration and stared at her in consternation. ‘Down the hill? We won’t make it.’

  ‘That’s what you keep saying; don’t be so negative Paul.’ she replied testily. ‘We have made it this far so we might just as well continue.’

  He stared at her wordlessly for a moment then turned his attention back to the narrow road that hugged the crest of the hill.

  The birds easily kept pace with the vehicle as it struggled along the snow choked road, skimming over the hedges and trees as they drew closer to the ramparts of the Iron Age fort on top of Eggardon Hill. Here they peeled off and with powerful beats of their wings headed into the

  dark clouds that hung above the earthworks. As they vanished from view in the ominous cloud bank the wind began to pick up driving the storm towards the road and the solitary vehicle.

  ‘Is that more snow coming our way?’ enquired Paul, a light sheen of nervous sweat covered his forehead and he blinked as it trickled into his eyes. He wiped it off quickly with his sleeve. ‘Or are they doing something to push the storm our way?’

  Queenie frowned and glanced behind at Sybil who was huddled beneath a blanket, her eyes wide with dismay peeping over the top.

  ‘Maybe,’ she said evasively.

  ‘That storm doesn’t look natural to me,’ muttered Sybil. ‘Especially the way it is closing in on us so quickly.’ She was right; the rolling clouds were speeding eerily across the hill. Sudden flashes of lightening lit the interior of the cloud, revealing the strange shapes moving within the grey mist.

  ‘I have heard many wild tales about these hills,’ she continued gravely. ‘I only hope they are not true.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to know,’ replied Paul.

  ‘You mean you are not interested in the tales of the Black Hunt that roam these hills, collecting the souls of the recently departed?’ Queenie asked in mock disbelief.

  ‘Stop joking, things are bad enough without you doing that,’ he replied.

  ‘Why do you find it so hard to believe especially after all you have seen?’

  ‘Because I don’t want to believe it. There is only so much that I can cope with!’ And,’ he pointed out, ‘as we are not dead we should be safe from your so called Black Hunt.’

  ‘Well as you said, we are not dead yet,’ said Queenie. ‘But I am sure she will do her best to remedy that situation.’

  The storm drew closer; trees bent and creaked before the strong wind, hurling branches high into the air. Flurries of snow hit the side of the vehicle making it shudder and shake under the strength of the gale.

  Indistinct shapes moved deep within the roiling storm cloud, as it closed on the vehicle Queenie peered in surprise through the snow covered windscreen.

  ‘My God!’ she swore. ‘She has done it!’

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘She has summoned the Black Hunt.’

  A pack of huge dogs burst from the cloud and sped across the snowy fields bearing down on the vehicle crawling slowly along the road.

  ‘Is that bad?’ Paul wavered while he struggled to keep the car on the road.

  ‘What do you think, you idiot!’ she snapped. ‘Those hounds are bound to do her bidding and now we are in real trouble!

  Muscle and sinew flexed be
neath their black hides as they bounded forward, their clawed feet dug deep into the snow sending out a shower of icy clods far behind them. Panting in the cold air, yellowing fangs protruding from their gaping mouths, they salivated as they bore down on their intended victims.

  They gained quickly on the Land Rover and as they closed to within a few feet they swerved from their original course and began to run alongside, keeping pace with the vehicle. More of the huge hounds appeared from the grey clouds and surrounded them on every side. Emboldened by the strength of numbers, the largest of the hounds leapt up onto the vehicle and under the weight and sudden impact it slewed sideways.

  Paul snatched at the steering vehicle as he tried to correct the skid and guide it back into the middle of the slippery road, all the time he stared in disbelief at the beast that had landed on the bonnet.

  As soon as the hound’s paws touched the metal it began to howl and slather with fury. Its claws frantically scrabbled on the slippery surface and the rough mane of hair bristled angrily as it lowered its head to charge the windscreen. Hot breath fogged the windscreen as it fixed its black eyes on the man inside the vehicle.

  He shuddered, tightened his grip on the steering wheel and wrenched it to one side. The hound flew off the bonnet, landing with a thud into the snow filled ditch at the side of the road. It slowly struggled to its feet, shrugged off the snow then raised its huge head to howl. The awful cry was repeated by the following hounds that raced after the speeding vehicle. It bounced over the icy drifts, swerving from side to side until Queenie quickly grasped his arm.

  ‘Slow down! You’ll put us in the ditch!’ He was trembling and she looked at him with concern. ‘You’re being very brave, Paul,’ she said reassuringly.

  He gulped and glanced to either side at the creatures that were still keeping pace with them. The huge beasts were pounding alongside the vehicle, steam billowing from their open mouths and sweating hides. They jostled against each other, huge paws digging deep as they flew over the snowy ground.

  ‘Then why am I so terrified?’ he demanded then squealed as another of the beasts crashed into the side of them, its teeth biting and tearing at the thick tyres. ‘Not my new tyres!’ he yelped and rammed the heavy vehicle sideways into the creature. There was a bone crushing bump and an anguished yelp as the heavy duty all terrain wheels ran straight over the hound’s body.