The Haunting Page 9

  They drove towards Upper Marston and then passed through the village. Sebastian was surprised when the van in front indicated to turn into the lane where Briony had insisted he drop her off. He followed the van down the narrow road until the brake lights of the van in front obliged him to stop. Getting out he joined the manager as they walked a little way further down the lane stopping at a parked police car. A lone policeman met them,

  ‘You the manager then?’ He asked.

  Bradley, the phone manager, said he was and asked if anyone had seen Nathan.

  The policeman was a bit vague with his answer.

  ‘Nothing yet, but there’s a team combing the woods over yonder, they’ve called a dog out so if he’s there they’ll find him.’

  The van was lodged in a narrow ditch at the side of the road, but it wasn’t so much the ditch that was the problem, it was the tree which had caused the damage. Nathan must have hit it fair and square judging by the large vee in the bonnet. The impact had torn the engine from its mounts so he must have hit it at speed. The driver’s door lay open indicating a hasty escape from the wreck, so at least Nathan was perhaps not too severely injured.

  A dog could be heard barking from the direction of the wood at the same time as the policeman’s radio burst into life. He bent his head down to listen and in that same position raised his eyes to look at Bradley and Sebastian.

  ‘They found him, in the woods.’ He said without smiling.

  ‘Is he okay?’ Asked Bradley, hope evident in his voice.

  ‘Fraid not sir, looks like he hanged himself in there. He’s dead.’ Replied the policeman.

  Bradley staggered slightly, and Sebastian held his arm to steady him. Neither man spoke as the policeman took out his notebook and asked their full names and addresses for future reference.

  Bradley said little else after that, and in a line, they both reversed out of the lane to the main road. He turned to go back to his office and Sebastian headed in the opposite direction, heading for upper Marston.

  He drove almost on autopilot as he tried to take in the enormity of the tragedy which had befallen poor Nathan. What would make a man take such drastic action? And what exactly had happened in his bedroom to bring it on?

  He drove through the village with his mind so taken up with the recent events he almost missed Briony standing on the pavement. He was tempted to stop and talk to her but remembered her strict instruction never to do that. Instead, he slowed down and pulled into the kerbside. He observed her in the rear view mirror; she was standing, still concentrating her looks across the road. He followed her gaze and saw James standing in his doorway looking back at her. The two appeared to be communicating in some way, neither had any expression on their face to reveal what that might be, though.

  James suddenly withdrew back into his office, slamming the door noisily. Sebastian saw the glimmer of a smile pass across Briony’s features as she turned away from him and began walking towards the other end of the village. To turn around and follow her would be very obvious, so he pulled away from the kerb in the direction of the bakery and home.

  Sebastian sat in the kitchen contemplating the old range with a glass of scotch in his hand. What a day, he thought. The morning had brought such promise too, but now a man was dead and for what reason? He looked at the phone hanging on the wall and thought about the young man who had so recently placed it there with a cheerful smile on his face. What could have happened to change that smile into a girlish scream? Why had he driven off in such a panic, crashed the van and then apparently hanged himself in the wood? Sebastian glanced upwards, trying to peer through the ceiling to his bedroom directly above as if that would furnish an answer. He slowly walked upstairs and sitting on his bed contemplated the bedside phone. The phone which had in some way caused the death of that young man. He lifted the phone off its cradle and listened to the tone dial, it worked. He had a phone, but at what cost?

  Returning downstairs, he replenished his glass and decided to walk around the yard, sitting indoors was only making him maudlin. He walked over to inspect his work on the bakery door that morning and stood staring at it, sipping his scotch and wondering how he could have mistakenly secured the padlock with the door still being open. He rattled it against the hasp, and sure enough, it was closed. But not the door, it stood slightly ajar almost mocking him in his attempt to secure it.

  Sebastian still had the keys in his pocket and setting his drink down smoothly inserted one of the keys into the new padlock. It wouldn’t turn. He applied more pressure, but still, it wouldn’t budge. Frustrated now and getting angry he retreated to the kitchen for his tool kit. Back at the bakery door, he used a pair of pliers on the padlock key; surely it couldn’t be corroded or stiff with rust, it was brand new. He turned the key and felt it give slightly, applying more pressure with the pliers he sensed victory, just as the key snapped off in the lock.

  He stood looking stupidly at the padlock, now entirely useless and unusable. He would have to use bolt croppers on the thing now, and meanwhile, the bakery door would remain unlocked.

  Sebastian pushed the door closed and secured it as best he could at the same time acknowledging that by the morning it would once again be wide open.

  Returning once again to the kitchen, he frowned at the thought of cooking himself a meal and opted to once again drive into Upper Marston, to the pub.

  As he pulled out of the yard around the house, he almost bumped into a wispy smoke shrouded figure returning from the direction in which he was headed. He didn’t notice it, his thoughts still on the unfortunate young man’s death. The figure dissolved into a long line of dark smoke disappearing into the bakery through the door, which was once again standing open.

  The conversation in the pub was, predictably, centred around the death of the young man from the phone company. Sebastian was drawn into the discussion as he entered the bar on his way through to the dining room. It had already become common knowledge that the man had been working at the bakery shortly before his death and Sebastian was quizzed about the state of his health, particularly his mental condition. He assured everyone that the man had been perfectly happy in his work and it had been a surprise when he had bolted out of the bakery leaving everything behind in his haste.

  The police had not yet called at the bakery, but he was sure they wouldn’t be far away.

  The next morning Sebastian woke to the sound of the dawn chorus and bright sunshine streaming through his window. He had enjoyed a dreamless sleep and felt refreshed and reinvigorated, itching to get started on the house once again.

  After breakfast, he set about stripping the old paint off the walls in the room he had decided would become the dining room. It was small but had direct access from the kitchen so would be ideal. Under the paint, he discovered old wallpaper and stripped this as well. More paper followed, and he wondered how many layers there would be. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to take the wall back to the original, no easy task after countless generations of decorating.

  Eventually, he had a patch of the wall stripped back to the original plaster. He knew this because on digging into the plaster, he revealed the laths underneath and working out from the exposed section he eventually uncovered the entire wall. The plaster was far from being smooth, but the fact it was the original excited him enough to want to expose the whole house back to the time when it had been constructed.

  It was late in the day, and he felt tired; the work had been slow and monotonous. A microwaved dinner was appropriate in Sebastian’s view, and he levered out a boxed pre-cooked meal from the chest freezer in the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table with a glass of his favourite scotch in hand waiting for the microwave bell which would tell him dinner was ready.

  Sitting wearily at the kitchen table he had only just finished his meal when on looking down noticed a stain at his feet. It was the same as before and looked for all the world like a large patch of dried blood. He scuffed his shoe over it but made no
impression on the mark. Bending down from his chair he rubbed his hand over it, feeling the dryness of the old flagstone floor and when he lifted his hand and turned it over, he was flabbergasted to see bright blood. It was running down his palm, and Sebastian looked at it not believing what was so evident in front of his eyes. He touched the liquid with a finger of his other hand, bringing it up to his face as if he meant to taste it. Sebastian stopped himself as his finger touched his lips, but could smell and faintly taste the coppery blood. Getting up slowly with an unbelieving look on his face he made his way to the sink and held both hands under the tap, watching as the blood washed from them and disappeared down the plug.

  An agonising tiredness swept through his body and trudging wearily up the stairs he sank down on the bed, not bothering to undress. In moments, he was fast asleep, his body twitching restlessly.

  Chapter 15

  Luke now spent most of his waking life in the confines of the bakery. With Tom, no longer there to lend a hand it meant long hours preparing, kneading the dough and finally baking the loaves. His father worked beside him, and very few words were exchanged between them. In the morning, Luke had to deliver the bread to the rest of the village before he could pause for breakfast and collapse into bed for a few hours rest.

  Bethany silently prepared the meal which father and son devoured at the kitchen table. They both occasionally looked at the stain still visible on the flagged floor. Bethany had spent hours scrubbing it with a stiff brush, but it remained as a constant reminder of Tom and his painful death.

  The men trudged upstairs to rest, each to their separate rooms, while Bethany cleared the table.

  While she was engaged in once again scrubbing the stained flagstones, she noticed a movement behind her and thinking it was Luke wiggled suggestively, laughing softly.

  ‘Not that tired then.’ She laughed softly, smiling down at the floor.

  She sensed him kneel behind her and felt her skirt being raised.

  ‘Now then Luke, your da might catch us and then what?’

  She gasped as she felt him enter her and pushed back, the beginning of a soft moan on her lips, stifled as looking down at the hands now holding her she realised it was not her Luke. The hands were old and worn.

  She went to cry out in protest, but her voice was stilled by harsh words.

  ‘Cry out if you must, but it’ll be the hangman for your husband, and that is certain.’

  Bethany was devastated, this man was using her, and to protect Luke, she could say nothing against it.

  It was over mercifully quickly and as he withdrew she struggled to her feet turning to confront her abuser.

  Seth remained on his knees the instrument of his savage attack on her still visible as she drew her hand back, slapping him as hard as she could. He merely laughed up at her.

  ‘You can slap me as hard as you like Miss, but I’ll have you whenever I want and wherever I want and don’t you forget it. I hold your husband’s life in my hands, not to mention yours. You are as guilty as he and I’ll see you both hang if necessary.

  Bethany looked down at the cruel, uncaring face and realised the truth of his words. Seth wouldn’t hesitate to send both to the gallows if he didn’t get his way.

  ‘You would see your own flesh and blood swing from a rope?’ She said, knowing the answer already.

  ‘My flesh and blood? Your husband killed his brother just as Cain slew Abel. He is cursed for all time and you with him. It was you who drove Tom to distraction; you might as well have wielded the axe yourself.’ Seth got to his feet and adjusted his clothing.

  ‘And what of you? I suppose I have driven you mad with lust too?’ Bethany said.

  ‘Yes, indeed you have Miss, but you shall not kill me, I have you here.’ He displayed his balled up fist to her, shaking it gently in her face.

  ‘Say nothing to Luke or tell him. It makes no difference; you will be wife to both now.’

  Bethany was fuming at her predicament, her life and the life of her husband rested in the hands of this man in front of her. He showed no remorse and no pity; she thought him the evilest man in the world. But she had one avenue of hope, her father. Jeb would be furious and she knew would kill Seth with his bare hands if he ever found out, but could she endanger her whole family. If Jeb were caught, he would be hanged immediately, no trial for a Gypsy, no justice for them.

  It was if Seth was reading her mind.

  ‘Go ahead, tell your father, it makes no odds to me. I’ll have them all rounded up and sold into slavery, is that what you want?’

  Bethany left the kitchen and walked out into the yard; she wanted to be away from Seth. She hated him with all her heart, but couldn’t see any way of avoiding him or his crude intentions. A thought struck her like a hammer blow. Suppose he made her pregnant? Luke would be overjoyed, but what if it was his father’s child growing inside her? How would she live not knowing whose child she was carrying?

  Bethany decided to say nothing to Luke; perhaps they could run away? But Seth would set the authorities on them, and they would be run down like dogs. His evidence would send both to the gallows. She returned to the house and was glad Seth had returned upstairs. She needed Luke now, needed his loving and caring arms about her; perhaps one could negate the other?

  Climbing the stairs, she quietly entered her bedroom and slipped into bed beside her husband. She caressed his broad back suggestively, and he turned towards her. They made love sleepily and finding such comfort in the act she began to cry softly.

  ‘Don’t cry my love.’ Luke said, holding her close.

  ‘It’s just that you make me so happy.’ Bethany replied, holding him just as close.

  Life became a living hell for her. She tried desperately never to be alone in case Seth was lurking nearby, but could not prevent a random attack. He ruthlessly sought her out and gave her no respite, using her in any way he chose. The more it happened, the less chance she had of repelling him, and it was certainly too late to tell her husband, he might even believe she had encouraged Seth.

  She became morose, and Luke noticed the change in her, but could not help her to be happy whatever he tried.

  Seth, meanwhile, was enjoying life at long last. Caring nothing about Bethany’s feelings, he used her increasingly often. So much in fact that a part of him thought in his shallow way that he loved her. However, Jeb was never far from his mind and the danger he represented. He had seen the Gypsy once or twice and knew he was no match for him either in strength or fighting skills. He would have to ensure a confrontation would never take place and to that end sought out the local magistrate during his circuit visit to the village.

  Seth plied the corpulent upholder of the law with jug after jug of ale until he considered it the right moment to broach the subject of scurrilous Gypsies.

  ‘A blight on the country sir, that’s what they are.’ Affirmed the magistrate after Seth introduced the subject.

  ‘Our Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, rightly suggests that they all be got rid of.’ He said, accepting yet another jug of ale.

  Seth encouraged him to go on,

  ‘And how does he mean to accomplish such a thing?’ Seth asked, pretending he knew nothing of the recently introduced act of parliament concerning the Gypsy population.

  ‘Why! Get rid of them to the America’s, that’s how.’ The magistrate exclaimed. ‘They are crying out for labour, and we can provide it in plenty, making a profit for the Exchequer at the same time.’

  Seth closed his trap,

  ‘And just how is it decided who to take?’ He said meaningfully.

  The magistrate finished the ale, noting the appearance of another on the table.

  ‘Why there is no excuse needed, just round the buggers up and off with them!’ He exclaimed again, becoming louder as the evening wore on.

  The other men in the bar now took up the call,

  ‘Round them up, get rid of them, the buggers can’t be trusted anyway.’

  Seth pounced
.

  ‘What about that lot up the road in the woods? Ne’er do wells the lot of them.’

  The others joined in the call to rid the area of all Gypsies, especially that lot up yonder.

  The magistrate thanked Seth and assured him a troop of soldiers would be on the scene in no time at all. Seth left the inn well pleased with the night’s work. At the cost of a few jugs of ale, he had secured his future with Bethany.

  A week had passed, and Seth began to doubt the sincerity of the magistrate. Everyone had already forgotten the evening in the inn. No one cared about the Gypsies anymore, life carried on as normal, and folks still bought firewood, pegs and lucky white heather from Jeb and his family, who were still ensconced in the woods despite assuring Luke they would be moving on soon.

  It was the middle of the week, and after the hard work of making up the loaves and a quick nap, Luke and Bethany crept out of the house hand in hand. Bethany was missing her family and Luke had agreed to accompany her for a visit to their camp in the woods. Bethany had no intention of revealing her situation to her father; she just needed to be with them for a while. It would bring some sanity back into her life. Seth had been particularly attentive during the past week, and she feared that Luke would discover them at any time. How would she explain her behaviour to Luke now after so many weeks had passed? She was glad she was not with child, maybe she was barren? Bethany was both saddened and pleased at the same time.

  They made their way to the woods hand in hand approaching the ever-burning fire in the middle of the caravans. The family was pleased to see her, and much chatter ensued. Jeb and Luke sat apart from the rest and stared into the fire, finding nothing to say to each other.

  The dogs began to bark loudly but not the friendly yapping which had welcomed Luke and Bethany. Jeb leapt to his feet, shouting that strangers were approaching. The women gathered up startled children and made for the caravans, but it was too late. Suddenly the encampment was surrounded by soldiers, pointing their guns with long bayonets attached.