‘What nonsense, man!’ Bell Baker scolded. ‘Whatever it is that you think you know is brought on by a morbid vanity! Heroic tales– true ones are thin in supply and you may well have to make do with your label of murderer and nothing else! We would all welcome redemption, friend!’ Whether his words were simply to comfort or show faith, mattered not – for they certainly convinced Reuben and that was miracle enough.
***
The journey to Hares Folly was spent then in good spirit, each one of these four crusaders enjoying the dupe about to be played out. Meddler’s old magic had deserted him almost in entirety, or was how it seemed – for he was full of optimism and hope where once may have been dire resignation.
Anything was possible as long as it was willed! Bell Baker announced – and that the Lord never took from a happy man who was unaware. ‘That,’ he added coldly, ‘was the Devil.’
‘Well, I for one feel no evil here amongst us, or behind!’ Harry said cheerfully. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel as though we awaken a new dawn! Meddler, can you tell if evil waits before us? ‘
‘You would know!’ He replied clumsily, ‘But what I have stated before, not wishing to spoil this jolly atmosphere, but so long as you feel you need to – then I see before us a future for all.’ He put his finger up to quieten Harry. ‘Let me finish, please! We have a new magic to toy with – and shamefully I have to admit that I am as much in the dark as you. But!’ he said, as Harry ventured a response again. ‘I am aware still, of a little of the old magic, though this new one has greater potency.’
‘Is the future a realm already?’ Harry was full of wonder, now believing in himself as a conjurer of sorts. ‘I wonder to myself. I wonder if, in fact what we embark on is a journey into the unknown!’
‘How ironic for you, Meddler,’ Bell Baker sarcastically quipped, ‘when it would appear that you are, in truth, a know all.’
‘Precisely, Reverend!’ Meddler was happily unaware of the sarcasm and glowed with pride and affection for the Reverend’s words.
Harry winked and laughed a little, whistling a happy tune that all joined in on at the chorus.
‘A wanderer is what I’ll be,
With a soul and heart for all to see!’
And so they continued, not so sure-footed as one who walks in the tracks of another – but the uncertainty made them cling together – and then there we have faith.
***
Soon the menacing outline of Hares Folly’s gothic skyscape came into view and all the might of the sun’s rays that day could not comfort the heavy hearts on this sight.
‘If we ever needed the witch,’ Harry bitterly said as they made their way through the heavily gated walls.
‘I never thought to ask,’ said Reuben. ‘Why the gates, Harry? Do you keep out or in? Is odd to me.’
‘There is a story – a history you may not have heard, Reuben. People’s pets and such like have been going missing for a few years now – some turn up and some do not, but the ones that do are dead and tortured with a look of ghastly horror – and the evil on their faces that did for them.’
‘If they are blessed with keeping their faces, that is,’ Bell Baker added solemnly. ‘So the town’s committee had these walls and gates erected, believing it to be the work of a witch. Fantasy of course, and I have my suspicion, as do you Harry, of who is guilty of these atrocities.’
‘I am sure we all do!’ Reuben roared, becoming a little impatient.
‘Of course, but I shall continue the tale never the less. A young girl is said to have been found at the witch’s fingers, not five years back; her long, milky white blonde hair made black and crimson with her own blood – and bound to the boughs with it! Her teeth were embedded into her lips as though she died in severe agony – limbs broken, which would not have been difficult as she was delicate and frail and was with child.’
‘There was three, that they know of, three guilty and evil souls! Ay, Reverend?’
‘Indeed, Harry, three perpetrators.’
‘How did they know that there were three in particular?’ Reuben asked.
‘Three signatures were found, carved into her bare flesh.’
‘But the names then, Bell Baker – surely they were found out? Sounds foolish to me.’
Meddler cleared his throat, ‘May I, Reverend? The old magic is so scarce of late that I truly enjoy it when it surfaces.’
‘Of course, Meddler – please continue.’
‘The signatures were the names of three town’s folk – it now becomes convoluted, Reuben, so please try to pay attention.’
Reuben clipped his ear. ‘Get on with it!’
‘Shall we?’ Bell Baker asked, ‘the town’s well is a good place to sit and listen.’
So they sat and Meddler took the stage, setting the scene of the crying witch and the curse of the three.
‘The girl’s name was Tamara Fairface, though alas she is no longer this.’
‘Hey?’ Harry was confused at the suggestion that she still lived.
‘She has moved on, Harry! Please, I cannot continue if there are to be many such interruptions!’
‘To another realm?’
‘Exactly! Where she now resembles one lit by darkness and preys on the guilty, driven to her swamp – beyond a great hill, deep within a valley; a treacherous and perilous journey that some feel compelled to make, though no reason can be found for it. At night, when all feels safe – here in Hares Folly, she can be seen to venture forth in search of those that did for her!’
‘But she cannot be happy there? What justice is there for her there amongst flies and crawlies and the stinking mud? And you say some go willingly? I cannot see it, Meddler. Your tales that cheered me, now depress!’
Bell Baker intervened. ‘It is said in some ancient scripture, that in order to progress to Heaven we must first atone and do so willingly. That a beauty in one life is of no consequence to he who sits in judgement – it will sometimes return as a fearful monster or entity and rid herself of a raging revenge – for although she may have been wronged, the heart and soul must be pure to pass through the gates of Heaven. Tell me, Harry, would you lay yourself open to a judgement if you felt Heaven a breath away? Subconsciously of course?’
‘No, No!‘ Meddler said, impatiently, ‘you have it all wrong and apply too much intellect! A bairn with no schooling will still understand at the end, you see?’
‘Please!’ Reuben roared again. ‘The story!’
Meddler shook as did the others and shakily he continued. ‘Tamara Fairface – a child of fifteen was stuck in the middle – where no one noticed her busy teaching the younger and fetching for the older. You see where she might be missed?’
‘But she was pretty, you say?’
‘Yes, but as were they all, Reuben – and she was not in any way the most fetching of the Fairface clan. Anyway, was a fine spring morning and Tamara, having finished her chores and this and that, decided to walk to town – not five minutes away.’
‘Yes the old mansion is just beyond here.’ Harry waved at the gates. ‘Hence, all this.’
‘Please!’ Meddler implored, quickly continuing, ‘Pretty blooms flanked her progress, snowbells and daisy maids – and she skipped a little a she saw the then, pretty and goodly town of Hares Folly.’
‘Is an odd name, I thinks, you know?’
‘Reuben!’ Our little story teller was quite exasperated. ‘You are trying to beat me to it, you old dragon! In summary, let me tell you that the town became known it shortly after her death!’ He danced before Reuben, taunting him, ‘Come on then, what was it known as before?’
‘I did not say I knew that, Creature – just that the name was odd. Now a little respect if you please, less you want red ears!’
‘And by the way! It is in actual fact, Here’s Folly , but said with the local accent – and has adapted to ‘Hares Folly’. Now, the town’s folk of ‘Summers Long’, for was once known so, were a happy lot generally – and the few st
range ones made the majority shine brighter. Niamh, herself just learning to squawk at passers-by, had a following of sorts. All bad, though some much more than others – some were dangerous and looked to her to bring about change; to bring a winter to the pretty town named after infinite summers. From day one they were under her spell, only allowing her ridicule because she seemed to thrive on it!’
And as the tale became darker so did the sky and the wind moaned about their ears, wailing like a banshee hungry for souls. Even Meddler felt a little trepidation in the telling, but still he carried on,
‘Tamara Fairface had a smile for everyone, even Niamh, who would prove to be this fragile light’s nemesis! Seth took a keen interest in Tamara too, as he did anything exhibiting a vulnerability – you see where I show you, that she was not watched after? At least not by any good.’
Reuben yawned. ‘My, there is a lot of detail!’
‘I am building the scene, Reuben, thank you! May I continue?’
He huffed and puffed, stretching out his legs, and tickled the old cobb’s nose with a feather that blew his way.
‘Fi Fi La La, was her first stop this day.’
‘Creature!’ Reuben gave him a look.
‘Oh no, Reuben – this is not a time for teasing. I am the bearer of a solemn and tragic tale, I assure you.’
‘Very well then, Creature – on you go.’
‘Thank you, Reuben – now where was I? Ah ha, yes at the infamous Fi Fi LaLa! Ribbons and frills filled her mind – the display was almost edible and she was delighted to receive an invite to tea and cake.’
‘Whoosh!’ Caroline said to Tamara, ‘how the weather has changed! You shall have to stay, child or you shall be wet through!’
‘So strange those clouds,’ Tamara said wistfully, ‘the strangest I have seen.’
And how that wind blew – and how it battered the door and windows.
‘Shall make us all the more cosy!’ The lady proprietor, Caroline Westerly, said, stoking the small fire. Tamara said that she would send word to her mama and papa through Weaver Smith, who loitered at the front door. ‘He lives not far, and owes me a kindness. You see, papa accused him of stealing a smile from me – saying that he was a thief through and through though I diffused his indignation by saying that I simply found him laughable!’
‘Go on then, child.’ Caroline was amused at the obvious and innocent attempt for these two to spend some time together. Truth was she had seen them plenty, stealing a kiss or disappearing together when they thought no one was looking. Often behind the old gaol – never used you see, perhaps with the exemption of a man so inebriated his wife had locked him out. Such was the town of Summers Long, such were its people; peace loving and Christian, mostly…
And so, an enthusiastic Tamara begged an audience with her beau, who was only too happy to oblige – saying that he would inform her parents that the lady proprietor had sent word through him, omitting the detail of their conversation. Then he brushed her finger tips with a kiss, and was gone.
Both Caroline and herself, although relieved and grateful that he was to deliver the message, did say that they worried – for the storm was so violent and threatening,
‘He hadn’t even a coat!’ Tamara exploded as they sat staring into the fire.
‘Oh Lord, girl, he never does! Now stop your worrying and take some tea and cake – he will be along shortly.’
With a crash the door flew open – the bell sounding violently and the pretty lace curtains soaked and torn on the hinge. Tamara leapt up.
‘Oh Caroline, I am so sorry! I cannot have shut it properly!’
‘No child, I am sure you did – and will need more than a latch to keep that weather out. Turn the lock, girl – I am sure we will have no customers today.’
Tamara let out a cry and a gasp as she went to shut the door. Niamh stood in the open, not feet from her – lashed by the torrential rain and blown ragged by the vicious wind. It was madness! All had taken cover, bar her, standing there with dark, brooding – black – eyes and surveying the scene at Fi Fi La La’s. Her two cousins, although under cover, stood as one with her – which made Tamara shudder then impulsively, as she was a soft girl, rush to her – holding her tight and pulling her into the shop.
‘You poor lamb! You look wet through, what has got into you?’
Caroline was none too pleased. She thought the three of them strange at the best of times – unholy, but could not, would not ever say. They were, after all, just babes and she hid her abhorrence from Tamara, though knew that the wretch that stood before her was only too aware of her feelings.
‘Here, look – come to the fire and warm,’ Tamara went to encourage her, as Caroline could not. but Niamh would not move. She clenched her white fists so tight that her palms started to bleed.
‘Please, child,’ Tamara said, trying to loosen her grip. Violently Niamh trembled – then screamed so shrill it rang in their ears and above the wail of the storm – the door flew open once again and Seth and Wilhelmina rushed in.
‘How dare you!’ Wilhelmina cried. ‘What do you think to do? Kidnap her? Wicked, wicked people,’ she said with a sickening smile flickering across her cold, taut lips.
‘I shall take care of my charge thank you!’ Seth said, grabbing Niamh, who whimpered and fell into his arms.
‘We shall see about this!’ was Wilhelmina’s parting shot – remembering to smile sweetly; she had always to be seen to be sweet.
‘Well!’ Caroline exclaimed, locking the door tightly.
‘Oh, they are a strange lot, Caroline, and my logic says more treats for us!’
And the two giggled a little saying that, that night they would enjoy all the fancies and frills and drink all the tea that they wanted.
‘Thoroughly reprehensible!’ Caroline added, but as nobody would know, the two set about the mouth-watering cakes and tea before them and tried on whatever lace took their fancy. Tamara could not help, at times to look worriedly out of the window after Weaver Smith.
‘He has been gone a while,’ she whispered.
‘He is as tough as you are not! And will be fine,’ Caroline urged her to calm. ‘Take more tea, my sweet – you are making me feel guilty for having more than my share.’
And so the day passed with Caroline coaxing Tamara out of a state of disrepair and both of them glancing at the storm – wondering aloud if there had ever been such a day in Summers Long, before.
‘There is nothing to be done by worrying, dear.’
‘I know, Caroline – and I am sure he shall be along shortly.’
‘And we shall feed him tea and hotly buttered crumpets!’
Caroline, for her part, was not worried about the scallywag at all, but she knew that Tamara was, and enjoyed comforting her.
So much, much more eating of treats and supping of warm drinks followed – as did the girlish chit chat – and then, just as Tamara was about to mention Weaver again, a rap at the door.
‘Come on, then! I am wet through!’
‘Weaver!’ Tamara cried, and rushed to the door, pulling him into the shop – fussing and blushing prettily, as the two caught each other’s eye.
‘You will be held up here tonight then, miss!’
‘She shall, Weaver,’ Caroline intervened, pretending to be a solicitous chaperone, will you take some tea and crumpets?’
‘I am not sure I should Miss – what with this being a lady’s establishment. I must say, I feel quite conspicuous!’
‘Oh, but they are so thickly buttered and the cakes so finely iced – would be a shame to waste them. I am sure we cannot manage another mouthful!’
Weaver wiped his mouth, drooling at the thought.
‘I think he shall, you know!’ Tamara said, passing him a plate – which he piled high, washing down with warm, sweet tea.
‘All of us shall be before the beak!’ he said, ‘for daring to be so indulgent!’ Which all three found highly amusing.
Many hours passed, and all too
quickly it seemed. Weaver announced, ‘I must leave you now, ladies, but I will say that I have never spent a more pleasing time in such pleasant company!’
Tamara touched his hand as he went to leave and he stood there frozen, as though death itself had reached out to him.
‘You will not leave here, miss? Not to go home or even to peek at the storm?’ he said.
‘Why, Weaver! You look ghastly all of a sudden. Am I a mess in this light?’
‘No miss, you know you are not – you know that you light my days,’ he said bashfully, ‘I just says this, as I know you are as bold as a mayor’s buttons – this is a harsh storm.’
‘I promise,’ she whispered to him, and he stroked her fair cheek.
‘Sweet girl of mine, Tamara,’ he whispered back and was gone. Holding the door, she watched him disappear and felt such a strange loss that her voice caught in her throat when Caroline begged her return to the fire.
‘Come, come my sweet – we shall have even more fun now that your friend has left!’
And from behind her back pulled out some risqué novelettes, that she said she kept for just such heart breaking occasions – she announced that if these didn’t work, she would dance a jig in her night gown for all the street to see! Tamara found this highly amusing, saying that she might feign disappointment just to see it! And so the mood became light again, Caroline proving to be a bit of a witch herself.
The night fell quickly as the skies refused to give up the war they waged, and the two friends bid each other goodnight – so warm and cosy by the lamp light they had been that they really were quite sleepy.
Caroline was sure she locked the door again that night – and would state as much at the inquest later, but the weather made the doors and windows buckle and bow and had flown open at least twice during the storm so ferociously, that a pane had cracked and the lace curtains lay in tatters.
You see, on the morn, when Caroline – an early riser – went to check on Tamara, she was gone. In fact, her bed had not been disturbed. Caroline screamed and ran downstairs. The door was wide open – but no sign of Tamara – no sign at all. She ran into the street, distraught, bumping into Weaver, who upon seeing her face, shook and went a deathly white.
The Meddler Page 14