The Doll

by Elizabeth Andrews

  ‘I should get her home,’ Queenie announced. She leant forward and carefully took the mug from her sister’s slack fingers. ‘Sybil! Wake up. It’s time to go home.’

  She stirred reluctantly and opened one eye. ‘What?’ she mumbled.

  ‘Time to go; you old lush!’

  ‘You don’t have to go. Why don’t you both stay another night?’ urged Paul, looking concerned. ‘After all, you have no food at home and it’s safe and warm here.’

  Queenie smiled at him. ‘Thanks, but I think we would be better off sleeping in a comfortable bed tonight.’

  Sybil snorted and stretched. ‘Your bed is anything but comfortable,’ she grumbled. ‘It’s horrendous!’

  ‘Stop complaining and get up,’ ordered Queenie. ‘We are going home.’

  ‘At least have something to eat before you go!’ suggested Paul.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘We’ll be off before it gets too cold.’

  Archie nodded to himself and stood up draining his coffee in one gulp then moved across to help Sybil to her feet. ‘I’ll give you a lift home.’

  ‘We can walk.’

  ‘No. I insist, if there are these nasty creatures out there I would feel happier seeing you both home,’ he said firmly. ‘I have also taken the liberty of buying you a few groceries. So I can drop those off at the same time.’

  ‘You did?’ Queenie said, looking surprised. ‘That was kind of you.’

  ‘I remembered Sybil saying you had run out of food.’ He shrugged and gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘I had to get a few things myself so it was no problem.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said then paused eyeing him thoughtfully. ‘What did you get for us?’

  ‘Bread, milk, tea, the usual,’ he chuckled. ‘Oh and a steak and kidney pie which I hope you will like.’ He looked pleased as Queenie nodded vigorously. ‘So that’s settled then. I’ll run you both home and drop off the groceries.’ Archie then turned to Paul. ‘And would you like me to see if I can find anything else relating to Agnes Moor and Dorcas Hangler?’

  Paul nodded. ‘Please. I know I am asking a lot but if I send you a copy of the page can you try and decipher the other two names?’

  ‘I’ll have a go,’ he agreed. ‘And I will drop in tomorrow and show you what I have found.’

  The moon had risen by the time Archie had got Queenie and a drowsy Sybil into the car; the temperature had dropped dramatically and a sparkling layer of ice covered everything, from the parked cars to the surface of the road. The drive was treacherous with the frozen ice and his wheels span as he backed slowly out onto the road.

  ‘It’s going to be another cold night,’ he said, tightening the collar of his coat.

  ‘Shame,’ muttered Queenie. ‘With the sun breaking through this afternoon I thought all the snow would have melted by now.’

  ‘No such luck,’ he murmured, concentrating on the steep hill. ‘It won’t be gone for a few days yet.’

  She nodded then pointed to a convenient space near the entrance to the alley.

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Yep,’ she said.

  Archie slowed and pulled in behind a van. ‘Not far at all.’

  ‘No,’ she said coolly. ‘That’s why I said we could walk.’

  ‘But he has food, Queenie,’ said Sybil from the back seat, ‘and carrying heavy bags of groceries down that hill would be tricky.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said grudgingly and glanced sideways across the dark interior and watched as he methodically turned off the lights, checked the handbrake and pulled in the wing mirrors. ‘Were you an accountant before you retired by any chance?’ she asked in amusement.

  ‘No,’ he replied looking surprised. ‘A Bank Manager.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Why?’

  Queenie suppressed a shudder. ‘It was your attention to detail,’ she said, smiling blandly, and opened the door. ‘Come on Sybil.’ She opened the rear door and helped her clamber out of the car.

  ‘Was that a compliment? Because I do pride myself on my organisational skills.’

  ‘Yes, she said. ‘We noticed with your multi coloured graphs.’

  The pavement was thick with ice and it was difficult to keep their footing as they struggled arm in arm towards the passage to Queenie’s home. A kind neighbour had taken the time to grit the narrow alley to the terrace. Even so it was still treacherous in the dark.

  ‘Careful,’ cautioned Queenie over her shoulder. ‘Don’t fall.’

  Archie smiled to himself as he retrieved the bags of groceries from the boot of the car and began to follow the sisters into the alley.

  ‘Nice of you to be concerned,’ he commented.

  ‘I simply don’t want you to fall and spoil any of the food!’

  ‘Oh I see...and there I was thinking you cared!’

  She swung round and nearly slipped on the ice. ‘Think again old man!’ She steadied herself against the rough wall bordering the path and glared at the dim figure behind her. ‘Just hurry up, I’m getting cold!’ She fumbled for her sister’s arm in the dark and guided her along the uneven surface to the front door of her house.

  ‘You could do with a light out here,’ he observed.

  ‘I usually have a torch,’ Sybil said. ‘But I left it in the kitchen.’

  ‘We are here now so stop complaining,’ said Queenie, searching for the keys in her coat pocket. ‘And it’s good to be home,’ she sighed as she opened the door and flicked on the hall light.

  Archie paused in the doorway looking at the chipped paintwork and peeling wallpaper and an expression of concern flickered across his face.

  ‘Where would you like this?’ he asked quickly, hefting one of the carrier bags.

  ‘In the kitchen,’ she replied, while shrugging off her coat. ‘This way,’ and led him down the narrow hall to the back of the house.

  The kitchen was as they had left it, with the wreckage of the table still lying in the middle of the small room.

  Archie looked at it in surprise. ‘What happened here?’

  ‘Paul did that,’ she said and held out her hand for the bags. ‘I’ll put this away and then I’ll make a cup of tea. You’ll stay for one, won’t you?’ she asked diffidently while she busied herself about.

  ‘Thank you.’ He bent and picked up one of the splintered table legs.

  ‘Don’t bother with that,’ she said quickly. ‘I will glue it back together another day.’

  ‘Glue? That won’t hold. No, it has to be done properly. Leave it with me,’ he said firmly, picked up the legs and carried them down the hall to the front door where he neatly stacked them against the wall.

  Sybil was just coming down the stairs as he walked past. ‘Are you going to put them on the bonfire?’ she yawned.

  ‘No, I’m going to repair it.’

  ‘Why? It’s rubbish,’ she said doubtfully. ‘Queenie?’ she called, following Archie back to the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you get rid of that old thing and buy a new table?’

  ‘It’s an antique,’ Queenie said reprovingly.

  ‘It needs burning!’

  ‘Well,’ Archie said, picking up the table top, ‘I have to disagree, Sybil. It’s a nice bit of antique pine and with a bit of TLC this will look great.’

  She sighed and collapsed onto a chair in resignation. ‘I give up; you are bad as my sister!’ she complained and looked across at Queenie who was busy with the teapot. ‘Are you making tea?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘Yes, don’t look so shocked. I can be quite handy around the kitchen sometimes.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Sybil replied.

  There was thump from the hall as Archie leant the top against the wall.

  ‘Don’t worry, that was just me,’ he called.

  ‘We weren’t,’ said Queenie under her breath and winked at her sister. ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘Yes. Why? Are you going to cook as well?’

  ‘I thought I might do something with that pie that Archie bought.
’ She pulled it out of the bag and peered at the wrapping. ‘Does it need cooking?’

  ‘Of course it does,’ he said, coming back into the kitchen. ‘About forty minutes in the oven and I bought a bag of oven chip to go with it.’

  ‘Right,’ she said vaguely and looked across the room at her sister.

  ‘Would you like me to do it?’ Sybil offered.

  She was still looking pale and exhausted from their earlier outing so Archie held out his hand. ‘I’ll do it.’ He opened the packet and slid the pie out onto his hand. ‘Now... a baking tray?’

  ‘In there,’ Sybil gestured to the old gas stove in the corner.

  He stared dumbfounded at the pale green enamel Belling cooker. ‘How old is that and more importantly is it safe?’

  ‘Of course it is!’ Queenie replied, looking offended.

  ‘When was the last time it was serviced?’ he asked suspiciously and opened the small door and peered inside.

  Sybil chuckled. ‘It’s from the 1940’s Archie. I doubt there is anybody left alive who would know what to do with it!’

  ‘Serviced? It’s just a stove!’ Queenie muttered, looking baffled. ‘What a fuss about nothing!’

  ‘Let me light it,’ offered Sybil, standing up she took a box of matches from the drawer. ‘It can be quite tricky.’ She bent forward and fiddled with the regulo knob and gingerly held a lit match to the burner at the back of the oven. There was a woomph and a blue flame flared into life.

  ‘There,’ she said looking relieved. ‘The beast is awake. We’ll have to watch it though as the temperature gauge is a bit dodgy.’

  ‘God,’ Archie said, drawing back as the flames began to roar. ‘I’m surprised you’re still alive Queenie, it’s a death trap!’

  ‘She has survived this long,’ Sybil said calmly, sliding in the tray of pie and chips. ‘I don’t think an old stove is going to get the better of her.’

  ‘You are both being very rude about my treasured antique appliance,’ Queenie said primly and held out a cup of tea. ‘Here, Sybil. Archie...sugar?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he said, taking the proffered cup. ‘I bought some tinned vegetables to go with it.’

  ‘Vegetables?’

  ‘Yes Queenie, those green things I keep trying to make you eat.’

  ‘You do have a saucepan I suppose?’ he asked, looking around the sparse kitchen then spotted the small one on the wooden draining board.

  ‘Not that one,’ Queenie said quickly. ‘I was using that for brewing a potion.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said blankly. ‘And what was that for?’

  ‘It was to help us expel the power from the poppet.’

  He picked up the saucepan and looked at the remains of the herbs and frankincense sticking to the bottom. ‘Well,’ he said, gingerly sniffing the pan. ‘Judging by the awful smell it would be enough to banish anything.’ He chuckled to himself and turned to place it in the sink and began scrubbing at the congealed mess with a brillo pad. A dark shadow flitted across the window outside momentarily caught his attention and as Archie glanced up his hand froze for a second.

  ‘What...’ he stammered and started back from the sink still holding the saucepan.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Queenie asked sharply.

  ‘Nothing,’ he smiled nervously. ‘It must have been my reflection in the glass, that’s all.’

  She moved quickly to the door ignoring Archie’s protestations and flung it open. Queenie stepped out into the snow and stared around the shadowy yard.

  ‘Queenie! It was just a shadow,’ he protested, following her out into the cold. ‘Come back inside.’

  She wordlessly pointed to the dark figure standing on top of the wall.

  ‘Still think it was a shadow?’ she murmured.

  ‘What the hell...’ he breathed and involuntarily stepped back, feeling for the door. ‘Who is that?’

  ‘It’s either Agnes Moor or Dorcas Hangler.’ She frowned, hesitating for a minute then snatched the saucepan out of his hand and hurled it towards the lurking figure. Queenie crowed with delight as it caught the witch a glancing blow on the side of her head.

  She fell back with a shriek onto the tiled roof of the outhouse as blood began to flow from the gash on her forehead. Loose tiles slid off the roof, crashing into the yard below as she scrambled to regain her footing on the icy roof.

  ‘Damn good shot Queenie!’ congratulated Sybil, from the doorway.

  ‘Thank you!’ her sister said in amusement, then frowned as the creature began crawling across the roof towards the top of the wall.

  She turned to glare down at them and the light from the kitchen fell full on her face. It was the red headed witch. She hissed through her stained teeth, ‘You have not seen the last of us!’

  ‘Shut up, you old hag!’

  She had regained her position on top of the crumbling brickwork and she stood there swaying as the blood dripped down her face.

  ‘This is not over!’ she said and stretching her arms out began to slowly transform back into a bird. A triumphant croak echoed around the yard as it prepared to launch into the sky. With a powerful beat of its wings it lifted off and for a second hovered over the tiled roof.

  Seizing her chance Queenie ran forward, scrambled up on an old dustbin next to the shed, and tried to snatch at the birds legs.

  ‘Come here,’ she shouted as she tottered wildly on top of the bin. ‘I’m going to wring your scrawny neck!’ Her fingers closed on a spindly leg as the bird screeched. There was a flurry of wings and a cloud of feathers flew around Queenie’s head the crow struggled to free herself from the old woman’s tight grip.

  ‘Got you!’ Queenie growled then jerked back with a yelp as the bird’s sharp beak stabbed at her hand. She lost her balance, the bin fell backwards and Queenie went with it, leaving her sprawled full length in the snow.

  The bird shot upwards free from her grasp, leaving just a few feathers clutched in Queenie’s hand as it escaped into the night sky.

  ‘Damn,’ she said in disgust and examined her hand. The wound was deep and blood was already welling up. ‘Look what that thing did!’ she exclaimed, holding out her hand towards Archie.

  He was speechless and just stared in horror at the top of the wall.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Sybil asked, hurrying forward to help her sister to her feet.

  She brushed past him and he jumped then stared wildly at the old woman.

  ‘What just happened?’

  ‘That was one of the witches,’ she explained patiently. ‘Why don’t you go inside and sit down?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Queenie agreed as she brushed the snow from her skirt.

  ‘I meant Archie!’

  ‘Oh.’ she said and picked up the saucepan which now had a large dent in the side. ‘Oh dear, looks like I will need a new saucepan, so no vegetables tonight,’ she added smugly.

  ‘Vegetables? You are worried about vegetables after that!’ he spluttered, sinking into a chair. ‘I just didn’t believe you!’ Archie stared at Queenie as she hovered in the open doorway taking one last look around the yard. ‘I never thought such things existed! How do you deal with all this?’

  The door was closed against the frosty air and Queenie turned to face him. ‘We are used to it,’ she said calmly and patted him on the shoulder.

  ‘So it seems your potion didn’t work as the witch is still here,’ he pointed out weakly, his eyes then lit on the cereal box which was still surrounded by a circle of salt. ‘Can I ask...’ his voice trailed off.

  ‘The poppet was in there for a while and yes, the potion did work. But it was made to strip the power from the doll, not to get rid of the witches. That is going to take more than a few herbs.’

  ‘The salt?’

  ‘That was to prevent any evil forces breaking through and gaining control of it again.’

  He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced nervously towards the door. ‘So it doesn’t need the salt now it’s in the church?’

&nb
sp; ‘How do you know it’s there?’ Queenie asked sharply.

  ‘It was obvious, even to me, what you were doing.’

  ‘Paul said it was okay to leave it there,’ Sybil put in quickly.

  He squirmed slightly as Queenie folded her arms and stared coldly at him.

  ‘It will be safe there,’ she stated. ‘She can’t step on sanctified ground.’

  ‘But you’re a witch, or so you keep telling me,’ he pointed out, ‘and you were in the church.’

  ‘That’s different!’

  ‘How so?’ he persisted.

  ‘Because she is evil,’ Queenie said, trying to keep her temper, ‘and has surrendered herself to the Dark Lord while I,’ she said gesturing to herself, ‘am all sweetness and light!’

  Sybil chuckled.

  ‘Yes I am,’ she declared, ‘some of the time,’ she added with a twinkle. ‘Any more questions Archie?’

  ‘No, I get it,’ he said and paused sniffing the air, ‘but on a more practical note I would like to point out that something is burning!’

  A fire blazed in the newly cleaned out grate, courtesy of Archie, warming the small room as they huddled in front of the glowing logs, plates of burnt pie and undercooked chips balanced on their knees.

  ‘So,’ he said, chewing on a piece of overdone pastry. ‘Just to recap, I need to gather as much information as possible about those two women, is that right?’

  ‘That’s right. We also need their names as well but I think Paul was going to give you the picture.’

  Archie nodded. ‘He will have sent it through to my email so I can have a look as soon as I get home.’ He hesitated and looked at the sisters as they contentedly tucked into their food. ‘Are you sure you are going to be alright tonight by yourselves?’

  Sybil smiled at the anxious look on his face. ‘Don’t worry we will be fine.’

  He laid down his knife and fork and leant forward. ‘Look,’ he began earnestly. ‘I will be up most of the night researching those names so if you need anything or something happens you can call me...at any time and I will come.’ He looked embarrassed as Queenie began to laugh.

  She looked up from her plate, her eyes twinkling. ‘Sybil! Shame on you, what would poor William think if he heard you were getting offers like that from another man?’