Over the next few days the temperature dropped even further and the nights fell earlier. Darkness made matters worse and each evening as he walked home Ralf heard, for the first time ever in the village, the heavy thudding of the locking of doors.
Depression hung like a pall over the village and Ralf, exhausted by hard work and disturbed nights, drudged through the cold November days until a knock on the door brought a telegram from Niall:
HOME ON LEAVE FRIDAY WITH MICHAEL STOP FRANCE MONDAY STOP APPLE PIE PLEASE STOP
Hilda was all of a fluster and started making preparations the moment she got home from work, making up Niall’s bed and peeling apples for the pie. By the time Ralf got home from school the house was spick and span and Hilda was in a clean apron stirring a pot of stew. By quarter past six she was getting twitchy and had started straightening the cutlery on the already neatly laid table but boot steps on cobbles at half past had them both running into the lane where Tom, Ron, Old Bill and Leo were already waiting for Michael’s return.
‘Gordon will have your guts for garters if you don’t shut that door, Hilda!’ a laughing voice called. Then two smiling, khaki clad young men stepped into the light to be embraced by their families.
Perhaps it was the contrast with his loneliness at Janus Gate, or the years he’d spent amusing himself as a child, but that night and the next day were easily the best times of Ralf’s life so far. Niall was all he could have hoped for in an elder brother; energetic, funny and genuinely interested in everything Ralf had to say. The fact that he spoilt Ralf rotten didn’t hurt either. They ate magnificently, laughed, listened to long stories about Niall’s training and his beetroot-faced Sergeant Major, fished on The Sara Luz and laughed and talked some more. Ralf didn’t even mind that they all had to go to church on Sunday because Niall was going too.
Niall’s rich tenor burst through each hymn and his enthusiasm seemed to be catching. Voices swelled to fill the little church with song. He and Michael Arbuckle winked and pulled faces at Ralf and Leo throughout the service. It was only at the end of the sermon, when Denning mentioned it that Ralf remembered what had happened on Hallowe’en.
‘We are facing a difficult time and perhaps we in King’s Hadow have a particularly hard task to face in the coming weeks.’
‘I am aware that there have been a series of unfortunate incidents involving animals and – er – fish in the village of late,’ the vicar continued, ‘and there have, moreover, been unsettling events of a different kind. I am referring, of course to the sightings by some of you of lights in the fields and strange, if not to say, diabolical sounding noises from the woods at night.’
As Ralf cast his eyes over the crowd, wondering which of them had been responsible for all the strange things that had happened, he noticed Burrowes. He was sitting in the Lady Chapel, which faced the side of the main congregation. What was he doing there?
Denning’s voice got louder now and Ralf tuned back in to what he was saying.
‘Some parishioners have sought my advice on these matters,’ Denning went on, ‘and I say now to you all what I have said to them. This is a trying time, a time of great uncertainty, a time of great anxiety for all of us. But we must not allow our imaginations to run away with us.’
The Reverend made an attempt at what he thought was a comforting smile. Leo flashed Ralf a look but Ralf was busy watching Burrowes. His eyes roamed over the faces just as Ralf’s had been doing a few minutes earlier.
Denning went on. ‘I am not a man of science. I am a man of God, but I do believe there are, if we but look closely enough, perfectly natural explanations for the things some of you have experienced.
‘Lights in the fields – mayflies.’ Burrowes’ eyebrows shot up at this and Gordon Kemp shook his head. Ralf stifled a laugh. Denning must think they were simple if he thought anyone was going to believe that pathetic explanation.
‘Shrieking in the woods? The barn owl has, I’m told, a cry very like that of a screaming woman. And if these mundane explanations are not sufficient, I think it worth reminding the young folk in our midst that All Hallows Eve is now over and though done in fun, the dolls with pins in upset some people greatly.’ The vicar cast stern eyes over the congregation letting them rest on each of the older children in turn. ‘The pranks must now stop.’
After the service, everyone milled around outside. Ralf and Leo broke away to join Valen and Alfie under the old oak.
‘No ghosts today, then,’ said Alfie cheerfully.
‘I don’t understand it,’ said Leo. ‘If Fear really is what causes them, you would have thought after all those dolls and everything that happened up at the Sedleys' there’d be Falls popping up all over the place.’
There was a dark blur to their left and the leaves rustled. Seth stepped out from behind the tree.
Leo looked nettled. ‘Did you just Shift?’ he hissed. ‘In broad daylight? In front of a churchyard full of people?’
Seth shrugged. ‘Relax. No one saw. They’re all too busy fawning over Ralf’s big brother.’
It was true. Niall and Michael were causing quite a stir by the gate and many of the villagers stopped to pat them on the back or hear about their training. Hilda was with them, beaming with pride and clucking like an old mother hen.
‘The mood’s changed,’ said Seth. ‘Everyone’s so pleased to see them home; they’ve forgotten to be afraid. I’m betting we won’t be seeing any more Falls for a while.’
‘Unless something else happens,’ said Valen, darkly. ‘I bet that – Wolf, are you listening to me?’
But Ralf could not listen. Cabal had appeared on the edge of the Village Green. He caught sight or scent of Ralf then bounded over to give him a doggy embrace. With his front paws on Ralf’s shoulders he looked enormous. Their conversation forgotten, the children patted and fussed him and he frolicked about. Some of the villagers looked startled at the dog’s sudden appearance but many were smiling. Niall chuckled as he excused himself from the gaggle around him and came across. Burrowes joined them a moment later.
‘What on earth…?’ Niall began but Burrowes, it seemed, was a dog lover. He was all over Cabal with pats and scratches.
‘Oh, he’s a beauty isn’t he?’ the Inspector exclaimed. ‘You don’t see many like this, these days. He must be coming up to thirty inches.’
‘And he’s not fully grown yet!’ Ralf said proudly, scratching behind Cabal’s ears. The dog grinned at him, tongue lolling.
‘But, Ralf, wherever did you get him?’ Niall asked. ‘And how are you feeding him? Hilda must be going berserk!’
Ralf, who’d been revelling in their admiration for Cabal, felt suddenly awkward.
‘Well, he’s not actually mine,’ he admitted.
‘Look out!’ said Leo. Ralf followed his gaze. Brindle, wearing the vile green dress, which was now torn and covered in leaves and mud, was striding across the Green. A feathered felt hat sat askew on her head and she clutched a length of birch in her pudgy, pink fist.
‘You there!’ she shouted. ‘Osborne! I want a word with you!’
Cabal growled.
‘Steady now,’ Burrowes muttered.
Ralf put a restraining hand on the back of Cabal’s neck, fingers entwined in his coarse fur. The action was not lost on Brindle, whose face turned puce. She grasped at a chain hanging at her neck and put a tiny whistle to her lips, cheeks ballooning as she blew.
Cabal winced and dropped to his belly.
Ralf forgot himself at the sight of the distressed dog. ‘Stop it!’ he shouted. ‘Can’t you see he doesn’t like it?’
Brindle did take the whistle out of her mouth but only to make Ralf even more uncomfortable. ‘Burrowes!’ she puffed, joining the group. ‘This boy,’ she sneered, gesturing towards Ralf, ‘has stolen my dog!’
‘What?’ Ralf felt a surge of anger. ‘I’ve done no such thing! Can I help it if he doesn’t like you? He keeps running away because he wants to be with me!’
‘Yeah!’ Alfie
piped up, stepping forward. ‘What’s the stick for, eh?’
Brindle turned furiously to face him and the birch came up, almost of its own accord. Leo put a gentle hand on Brindle’s arm but her face contorted in disgust.
‘Don’t – you – touch – me,’ she said venomously.
‘Gonna get aggro at Leo now are you?’ Alfie asked.
‘Be quiet! No one can understand a word you say!’ Brindle snapped. She transferred her glare from Alfie to Ralf. ‘Not stolen him?’ she asked snidely, pulling a broken padlock from one of her ample pockets. ‘Then how do you explain this?’ She turned to Burrowes, who’d been watching the whole exchange with an expression of distaste. ‘Deliberately smashed! And with my own axe too! It will cost me a fortune to have it replaced with the price of metal as it is. What do you intend to do about it?’
‘Now wait just a second,’ Niall said. Ralf could see his brother’s usually merry eyes were hard with anger. ‘If Ralf says he didn’t take him, he didn’t. Anyone could have done that. And what are you doing leaving axes around where children can find them anyway?’
‘You go, Niall!’ said Val happily.
For a minute or two everyone was talking at once. The villagers in the churchyard were edging closer to better hear the show and Cabal was adding his whines to the general confusion.
‘That’s enough!’
Burrowes’ shout had the same effect as a gunshot. The silence was sudden and absolute.
‘Now, Miss Brindle,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m afraid my presence in King’s Hadow is in connection with a far more pressing matter than dog theft and therefore I am going to do nothing about it. You may, if you so wish, report this incident to Sergeant Minter and he will investigate the damage to your property. Until such time as he does, I will have to ask you to refrain from accusing anyone, however much you’d like.’
Brindle was furious and bristled further at the Inspector’s next comment. ‘He’s a fine animal. A good guard dog?’
Brindle sniffed. ‘When he isn’t running off.’
‘He didn’t kick off the night Charles Hart disappeared, I suppose?’
‘Why should he? That happened way out at Chax Forest.’
Burrowes ignored the comment. ‘Where did you get him?’
‘Hastings, if you must know.’ Brindle looked sideways and fiddled with the padlock in her hands. ‘But, I don’t have all day to stand around answering questions,’ she snapped. ‘It’s a fine state of affairs when hard working people are let down by police in this manner. But it’s no more than I expect from you John Burrowes. Even as a child you were a good for nothing wastrel with ideas above your station!’ She slapped her thigh with the birch. ‘Come!’
Cabal slunk over to her and with a reproachful look at Ralf, allowed Brindle to replace the collar he had slipped earlier. Brindle looked at Ralf and then at his sister who had hurried over at Burrowes’ shout. ‘Expect to hear from Sergeant Minter, Hilda.’
Hilda gave a curt nod. ‘Good day, Zilla.’
Burrowes excused himself then, shaking hands with Niall and doing a funny little bow at Hilda. She smiled graciously but frowned at Ralf the moment Burrowes’ back was turned.
‘Well?’
It took a while to convince his sister that Cabal really did come and go of his own accord and even longer to tell her of his concerns regarding the dog’s welfare.
‘Can you not just shoo him away?’ she asked in an exasperated sort of voice.
‘Be fair, Hild,’ said Niall. ‘There’s not much the lad can do if the dog’s seeking him out. Probably senses someone who’s like to be kind to him.’
‘I suppose,’ said Hilda. ‘She always was rough with her livestock. D’you remember that old horse she used to have. Skin and bone it was when the knackers came.’
Ralf blanched. ‘Isn’t there anything we can do?’
Niall shook his head. ‘Not unless someone catches her beating the poor brute. She’ll just lie else.’
‘Anyway,’ said Hilda, taking her brother’s arm, ‘this is getting us nowhere and I’ve got potatoes to peel.’
‘We’ll be along in a minute,’ said Leo, looking back towards the church.
Ralf followed his gaze. Major-General and Mrs Kingston-Hawke were standing by the doors, deep in conversation with the vicar. With them, dressed in a tailored coat and fur stole, was Gloria.
‘Urgh!’ said Val, disgusted. ‘She’s wearing half a dead fox!’
‘She’s back!’ Seth exclaimed. ‘Excellent.’
‘I was so busy watching Burrowes, I didn’t even notice her,’ said Ralf. The admission, oddly, made him feel as though he’d somehow let her down.
‘So, go on then, Ralf,’ Seth urged. ‘Get her away from her parents. Find out exactly where that Fall is and who she’s talking to.’
‘She’s coming over,’ said Alfie.
Ralf tried to arrange his face as Gloria skipped lightly down the path nodding to people she passed. She gave Hilda a friendly ‘Hullo! Chilly, isn’t it?’ but, Ralf noticed, her smile seemed to linger on his brother. Niall gave a polite nod and a ‘Good morning, Miss,’ in return then, after a quick glance in the direction of the Kingston-Hawkes, shot her a wink.
Blushing prettily, Gloria quickened her pace.
‘Hullo all!’
‘Hello,’ said Ralf. ‘How was London?’
‘Ripping,’ she said, giving the others a quick nod before turning to Ralf. ‘I say, can I have a quick word with you and Leonard? I’ve got a message for you both.’
‘Private?’ Seth gave a small smile. ‘I have to go anyway. I told Winters I’d help him cleaning some of the Barrow stuff.’
‘So long, Seth,’ said Gloria. But Seth was already wandering away, hardly hearing their goodbyes he was so absorbed tugging Valen along with him.
‘Bye, Gloria!’ she called over her shoulder.
Gloria waved then looked pointedly at Alfie.
‘I’ll get lost too, shall I?’ he said, resigned.
Leo started to laugh as the small boy walked away but his smile faded when Gloria took him and Ralf by the arm.
‘Let’s just walk across the Green a bit, shall we?’
Intrigued, they allowed themselves to be led to a bench where Gloria sat down and patted the wood either side of her. Autumn sun shone through mandarin coloured leaves to fall on her and the light made her hair a crown of burning copper. She glanced over each shoulder and hunched down conspiratorially.
‘I have a message for you –’
‘Er – great!’ Ralf said carelessly. He thought that nothing short of a Dalek invasion or the sudden appearance of Spiderman could faze him now. Until he heard what Gloria said next:
‘From The Other Side!’ she beamed. ‘Exciting isn’t it? Being able to communicate directly with one’s Spirit Guide,’ she gushed. ‘He’s an amazing fellow. Such a magnificent face. Anyway, don’t ask me why, but he’s asked me to give you a message. ‘For the Wolf and the Lion’. That’s you two, obviously. It’s all very cryptic but it will make sense to you, I’m sure.’
‘Your Spirit Guide’s sent a message for us?’ Ralf’s heart thumped. Who the heck was she talking to? He glanced at Leo whose eyes were wide. This was unbelievable!
‘Hold on, I’ve written it down.’ She extracted a notebook from her bag, tore out a page and handed it to Ralf. It read:
Of Righteous Echoes, King’s Hadow Born,
Five Must Weather the Coming Storm.
The Greatest of them, Two in One,
Safe must be kept till Hawthorn’s Gone.
Ralf looked at it and frowned. ‘What does it mean?’
‘You don’t know?’ Gloria looked crushed. ‘I was a bit worried about whether I got it down correctly. I thought I was getting better at understanding him but he kept fading in and out, rather like the wireless when it’s not tuned in properly. Do you know what I mean?’
Ralf nodded, remembering the strange conversation he’d overheard in Gloria’s kitc
hen. He knew exactly what that sounded like.
‘And he doesn’t seem to speak much English. We’ve been trying Latin but I’m a bit rusty. When I can’t understand him, he’s a real dear and tries to help, though. Do you know how he gave me the poem in the end?’
Ralf shook his head. ‘He waved his hand and all the leaves and twigs and what not floating on the lake rushed together as if drawn by a magnet and formed themselves into letters. Jolly clever, even if it was all backwards.’
‘Backwards?’
‘Obviously.’ Gloria pursed her lips. ‘He’s a reflection. All the writing is reversed. He’s the devil to understand and he kept going on about you being trapped until ‘the stream re-joins the river’. She in leaned further until their three foreheads were almost touching. ‘And,’ her final words were delivered in an excited whisper, ‘he said to tell you to use your skills!’
‘Could it be any more unhelpful? Righteous Echoes, a weather forecast, flowering shrubs and rhyming couplets. What on earth does it all mean?’ said Val.
‘Not a flipping clue,’ said Ralf
‘In fact,’ said Alfie, ‘as far as clues go, it’s pants.’
Ralf and Leo hadn’t been able to bear the thought of returning home without first telling the others what had happened when they had gone for their little stroll with Gloria. They were behind Hatcher’s Catch, in a garden that until recently had been Mrs Hatcher’s pride and joy but which was now divided equally between a flooded vegetable patch and a half built Anderson Shelter
‘D’you know,’ said Seth, ‘Gloria’s Spirit Guide is actually the one thing in this whole awful mess that makes a weird kind of sense.’
‘I don’t believe it!’ Valen cried. ‘A dead person giving messages to Ralf’s Aunty ‘makes sense’?’
The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue Page 23