Page 23 of The Spook's Secret


  'She'd have been safe in your house at Chipenden, wouldn't she? The boggart would have stopped the constable getting anywhere near her.'

  'It would that, lad. It would have stopped him dead! But he was just doing his job, and although I loved Meg, I didn't want the loss of that young constable's life on my conscience so I had to make sure that Meg disappeared. I went down into the village and met him there and, with the help of the blacksmith as witness, managed to convince him that she'd fled the County.

  'As a result I brought her here and she spent her summers locked in the room on the cellar steps and her winters confined to the house. It was either that or she'd swing at the end of a rope - as you know, they hang witches at Caster. At one point, years later, she got out and terrified some of the locals. To keep them quiet, I had to promise that I'd bind her in a pit in the cellar. That was why Shanks was so upset when he saw her that morning. Anyway, now, at long last, she's going home. It was something I should have done years ago but I just couldn't let her go.'

  'So she wants to go home?'

  'I think she knows it's for the best. Besides, Meg no longer feels about me the way I still feel about her,' he said, looking older and sadder than I'd ever seen him before. 'I'm going to miss her, lad. Miss her sorely. Life won't be the same without her. She was the only thing that made the winters here bearable ...'

  At sunset I watched the Spook seal Meg's sister, Marcia, into her coffin. Then, when the last of the brass screws had been tightened, I helped him carry it down the clough. It was heavy and we staggered a bit under the weight, struggling to keep our feet on the soft, muddy ground, while Meg walked behind carrying her own bags. As we proceeded in solemn silence down into the gloom of the valley, it reminded me of a real funeral.

  The Spook had arranged for a coach to be waiting for us on the road. The four horses became nervous as we approached, their nostrils dilating, breath steaming in the moonlight, and the driver struggled to control them. Once they'd been steadied, he climbed down, looking very nervous himself, came across to the Spook and touched his own cap in deference. His jowls were wobbling and he looked ready to jump out of his skin.

  'There's nothing to fear, and as I promised, I'll pay you well. Now help me lift this up,' the Spook said to him, tapping Marcia's coffin. They heaved it up onto the rack at the rear of the coach and the Spook watched closely as the driver secured it with rope.

  While they were busy, Meg approached and smiled at me grimly, showing her teeth.

  'You're a dangerous boy, Tom Ward, a very dangerous boy,' she said, leaning closer. 'Take care not to make too many enemies ...'

  I wasn't sure what to say to that.

  'Will you do one thing for me, boy?' she whispered in my ear.

  I nodded uneasily.

  'He's not as cold as he'd have everyone believe,' she said, gesturing to my master. 'Look after him for me.' So I smiled and nodded.

  When the Spook joined us, she gave him a warm, friendly smile that made me think that deep down she still cared something for him. And then she took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. He opened his mouth as if to say something but no words came out. Tears were glistening in his eyes and he looked choked with emotion.

  Embarrassed, I turned my back on them and walked away a few paces. They whispered to each other for a few moments and then walked to the coach together. While the driver held open the door and gave her a little bow, the Spook helped Meg up. Then he walked back over to me.

  'Right, lad, we'll be on our way. You get yourself back to the house,' said the Spook.

  'Would it help if I came with you?' I asked.

  'Nay, lad, thanks all the same. There are some things that I need to do on my own. One day, when you're older, I think you'll understand. But I hope you'll never have to go through anything like this ...'

  But I understood already: I remembered seeing him with Meg in the kitchen, tears on his cheeks. I knew how he felt. Also, I could imagine myself being in the Spook's position and having to say goodbye to Alice for the last time. Was this how Alice and I would end up?

  A few moments later the Spook got in, and no sooner had he seated himself down next to Meg than the driver flicked his whip above the backs of the four horses. The coach trundled away and began to gather speed. They were on their way north, their destination Sunderland Point, while I made my way slowly back up the clough towards the house.

  Once inside, I heated some pea soup for my supper and settled down beside the fire. There was no wind outside and I could hear every squeak and groan in the old house. The floorboards settled, a stair creaked, a mouse pattered behind the wall. And I even fancied that below in the cellar, far beyond the metal gate, I could hear the whisperings of the dead and the nearly dead down in their pits.

  It was then that I realized just how far I'd come. There I was, alone in a big house with a cellar full of trapped boggarts and witches, and I wasn't scared one little bit. I was the Spook's apprentice and in the spring I'd have completed my first year of training. Four more years and I'd be a spook myself!

  Chapter 23

  Late one morning at the very end of April, as I went to get water from the stream, the Spook followed me outside. The sun had just risen over the edge of the clough and he smiled up towards its faint warmth. On the cliff behind the house the ice stalactites were melting fast, water dripping onto the flags.

  'This is the first day of spring, lad,' he said, 'so we'll go to Chipenden!'

  I'd been waiting to hear those words for weeks. Since returning without Meg, the Spook had been very quiet, retreating into himself, and the house had seemed more gloomy and depressing than ever. I was desperate to get away.

  So for the next hour I rushed around doing all the necessary jobs: cleaning out the grates and washing all the pots, plates and cups to make life easier on our return next winter. At last the Spook locked the back door behind us and was striding away down the clough with me following happily at his heels, carrying two bags as usual as well as my rowan staff.

  I had remembered my promise to Alice - to ask if she could come with us to Chipenden - but was just waiting for the right moment, when I realized that, rather than taking the most direct route to the north, we were heading straight towards Adlington. Even though he'd visited him the previous day, I supposed that the Spook wanted to say another farewell to his brother. I was still dithering about mentioning Alice when we came in sight of the shop.

  To my surprise, both Andrew and Alice came out to meet us on the cobbled street. Alice was carrying a small bundle of belongings and looked ready for a journey. She was smiling and looked excited.

  'Have a good, prosperous summer, Andrew,' the Spook called out cheerfully. 'See you in November!'

  'Same to you, brother!' Andrew replied with a wave.

  Next, to my utter astonishment, the Spook turned and led the way and, when I turned to follow, Alice fell into step beside me grinning from ear to ear.

  'Oh, I forgot to tell you, lad,' called the Spook over his shoulder, 'Alice will be coming to stay with us in Chipenden on the same terms as previously. I arranged it all yesterday with Andrew. She needs to be where I can keep a watchful eye on her!'

  'Big surprise, is it, Tom? Glad to see me, are you?' Alice asked.

  'Of course I'm glad to see you and I'm really pleased that you're coming back to Chipenden with us. It's the last thing I expected. Mr Gregory didn't say a word about it.'

  'Oh! Didn't he?' laughed Alice. 'Well, now you know what it feels like when people keep secrets and don't tell you things you ought to know! Serves you right!'

  I laughed as well. I didn't mind Alice's gibe. I deserved it. I should have told her all about my intention to steal the grimoire. If I had, she might have drummed some sense into my head. But it was all over now and we walked along happily together on our way back to Chipenden at last.

  The following day there was another surprise. The route back to Chipenden led us to within about four miles of our farm. I was goi
ng to ask if I could call in but the Spook beat me to it.

  'I reckon you should pay a visit home, lad. You might find that mother of yours is back; if so, she'll be expecting to see you. I'll press straight ahead, because I need to visit a surgeon on the way.'

  'A surgeon? Are you ill?' I asked, starting to worry for him.

  'Nay, lad. The man in question does a bit of dentistry as a side-line. He's got a big supply of dead men's teeth and there's bound to be something that'll fit,' he said, giving me a wide smile so that I had a good view of the gap left where the boggart had knocked out his front tooth.

  'Where does he get them from?' I asked, appalled.

  'From grave robbers?'

  'Most of them come from old battlefields,' the Spook said, with a shake of his head. 'He'll make me up a denture and I'll soon be as good as new. He does a nice line in bone buttons too. Meg made all her own dresses and was one of his best customers,' the Spook said sadly.

  I was glad to hear that. At least her buttons hadn't come from her past victims, as I'd first suspected.

  'Anyway off you go now,' said the Spook, 'and take the girl with you for a bit of company on the way back.'

  I was happy to obey. No doubt the Spook didn't want Alice following at his heels. But I would have the usual problem. Jack wouldn't want her to take one step across the farm boundary and, as Brewer's Farm belonged to him now, it wasn't worth arguing.

  An hour or so later Alice and I were in sight of the farm when I noticed something very unusual. To the north, just beyond the farm boundary, was Hangman's Hill, where a plume of dark smoke was now rising from the trees at its summit. Someone had lit a fire there. Who would do that? Nobody ever went there because it was haunted by the ghasts of men who'd been hanged during the civil war that had swept through the County generations earlier. Even the farm dogs kept well clear.

  Instinctively I knew it was Mam. Why she should be up there I couldn't guess, but who else would dare? So we skirted the farm to the east and, once beyond its northern boundary, headed up the hill through the trees. Of the ghasts there was no sign and Hangman's Hill was silent and still, the bare branches gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. The leaf buds were swollen but it would still be a week or so until they unfolded. Spring had come very late this year.

  Immediately we came to its summit, I was proved right. Mam was sitting in front of a fire gazing into the flames. She was sheltering under a refuge of branches, twigs and dead leaves which shielded her from the sunlight. Her hair was matted with dirt and it looked as if she hadn't washed for a long time. She'd lost weight too and her face was gaunt, her expression sad and weary, perhaps of life itself.

  'Mam! Mam!' I said, sitting down beside her on the damp earth. 'Are you all right?'

  She didn't answer right away and there was a faraway look in her eyes. At first I thought she hadn't heard me. But then, still staring into the fire, she put her left hand on my shoulder.

  'I'm glad you're back, Tom,' she said at last. 'I've been waiting here for days .. .' 'Where've you been, Mam?'

  She didn't answer, but after a long pause she looked up and met my eyes. 'I'll be on my way soon but we need to talk before I leave.'

  'No, Mam, you're in no state to go anywhere. Why don't you go down to the farm and get some food inside you. You need a good night's sleep too. Does Jack know you're here?'

  'He knows, son. Jack comes up to see me every day and begs me to do what you've just asked. But it's too painful to go down there now that your dad's not at home. It's hit me hard, Tom, and my heart is broken. But now that you've come at last, I'll force myself to go back down there one last time before I leave the County for ever.' 'Don't go, Mam! Please don't leave us!' I begged. Mam didn't reply but just stared into the flames. 'Think of your first grandson, Mam!' I continued desperately. 'Don't you want to see him born? Don't you want to see little Mary grow up either? And what about me? I need you! Don't you want me to complete my time and become a spook? You've saved me in the past and I might need your help again just to get that far...'

  Still Mam didn't reply and Alice suddenly seated herself so that she was facing her directly across the fire. 'Not sure, are you?' she said to Mam, her eyes fierce in the firelight. 'You don't really know what to do.'

  Mam looked up, her own eyes glistening with tears. 'How old are you, girl? Thirteen, is it?' she asked. 'You're just a child. So what can you know about my business?'

  'May only be thirteen,' Alice retorted defiantly, 'but I know things. More things than some who've lived a whole lifetime. Some were taught me. Others I just know. Maybe I was born knowing them. Ain't no idea why. Just is, that's all. And I know about you. Some things anyway. And I know that you're torn between going and staying. Ain't that so? It's true, ain't it?'

  Mam bowed her head and then, to my astonishment, nodded.

  'The dark is growing in power, that's plain enough, and it's something I've told Tom before,' Mam said, turning to face me again, her eyes glittering more fiercely than those of any witch I'd faced. 'You see, it's the whole world that's falling under the power of the dark, not just the County. I need to fight it in my own land. If I go back now, I might just be able to do something about it before it's too late! And there are other things there that I've left unresolved.'

  'What things, Mam?'

  'You'll know soon enough. Don't ask me now.'

  'But you'd be alone, Mam. What can you do alone?'

  'No, Tom, I wouldn't be alone. There are others who'd help me - precious few, I must confess.'

  'Stay here, Mam. Stay here and let it come to us,' I begged. 'Let's face it together in my land, not yours...'

  Mam smiled sadly. 'This is your land, is it?'

  'It is, Mam. This is the County, where I was born. The land I was born to defend against the dark. That's what you told me. You said I'd be the Spook's last apprentice and then it would be up to me to keep everything safe.'

  'That's true enough and I won't deny it,' Mam said wearily, staring into the flames.

  'Then stay and let's face it together. The Spook's training me. Why don't you train me too? There are things you can do that even he can't. The way you once silenced the ghasts here on Hangman's Hill. He said that nothing could be done about ghasts; that they just faded away in their own time. But you did it. They were silent for months afterwards! And then I've inherited other things too. 'Intimations of death', that's what you called it. I knew when the Spook was close to death recently. And when I think back, I knew when he was on the mend too. I'll know next time when somebody turns the corner on the way back to health. Don't go, please. Stay and teach me.'

  'No, Tom,' said Mam, coming to her feet. 'I'm sorry, but my mind's made up. I'll stay here one more night, but I'll be on my way tomorrow.'

  I knew I'd argued enough and it was just selfish to continue. I'd promised my dad that I'd let her go when the time came and the time was now. Alice was right: Mam was in two minds, but I knew it wasn't up to me to make the decision for her.

  Mam turned to face Alice. 'You've travelled a long way, girl. Further than I ever dared hope. But there are bigger tests yet to come. For what's ahead you'll both need all of your combined strengths. John Gregory's star is starting to fade. You two are the future and the hope of the County. He needs you both by his side.'

  Mam was looking down at me as she finished speaking. I stared into the fire for a moment and shivered. 'The fire's nearly out, Mam,' I said, giving her a smile.

  'You're right,' said Mam. 'Let's go down to the farm. All three of us.'

  'Jack won't want to see Alice,' I reminded her.

  'Well, he'll just have to put up with it,' Mam said, in a tone that told me she'd stand no messing from Jack.

  And the truth was, in his happiness to see Mam back, Jack hardly seemed to notice Alice at all.

  After having a bath and changing her clothes, despite Ellie's pleas that she should rest, Mam insisted on making the hotpot supper. I stayed with her in the kitchen while she
cooked, and told her most of what had been happening up on Anglezarke. What I didn't tell her was how Morgan had tortured Dad's spirit. Knowing Mam, I wouldn't have been surprised to find out that she knew already But even if that had been the case, it would still have been too painful for her. So I just didn't mention it. She'd been hurt enough.

  When I'd finished, she didn't say much except to draw me close and tell me I'd made her proud. It felt good to be home. Little Mary was upstairs safely asleep, the beeswax candle was in the brass candlestick at the centre of the table, a warm fire was blazing in the grate and Mam's food was on the table.

  But beneath the surface things had changed and were continuing to do so. We all knew that.

  Mam sat at the head of the table, in the place that had once been Dad's, and almost looked like her old self. Alice and I sat opposite Jack and Ellie. Of course, by now Jack had been able to collect his thoughts and you could tell that he didn't feel comfortable with Alice being there but there was nothing he could do about it.

  Little was said at the table that night, but as we finished our hotpot, Mam pushed away her plate and came to her feet. She looked at each of us in turn before she spoke.

  This might well be the last supper that we'll ever share together' she said. 'Tomorrow night I'll be leaving the County and I might never return.'

  'Nay Mam! Don't say that' Jack begged, but she silenced him by raising her left hand.

  'You'll all need to look after each other now' she said sadly. 'That's what your dad and I would wish for you. But I've something to say to you, Jack. So listen well. What it says in your dad's will can't be changed because it reflects my wishes too. The room under the attic must belong to Tom for the rest of his life. Even if you were to die and your own son inherited, that would still be the case. I can't explain my reasons to you, Jack, because you wouldn't like what I told you. But there are a lot more things at stake than just your feelings. My last wish, before I leave, is that you fully accept what has to be done. Well, son, do you?'