The footpath marker pointed to another stile, which brought the weary hikers out of the barren field and into a narrow, high-banked lane. There was another footpath marker pointing right, but Jane took Bill’s arm and drew him in the opposite direction.
Bill protested, and told Jane they should follow the sign for the public footpath. Jane said they would be better off heading the other way, as this was more likely to take them back to the main road, and they could easily find their way home from there.
Bill said it would be much quicker to follow the footpath. Jane said they didn’t know which route the footpath took, and could end up getting even more lost.
“We are not lost.” Bill scowled at his wife. “Will people please stop saying we’re lost!”
Jane bit her bottom lip. Bill clenched his teeth. Bryony sensed an argument was brewing, which didn’t bode well for their chances of getting home before nightfall.
“Remember the Key,” whispered Edwin, nudging Bryony’s arm.
Bryony was about to tell Edwin to shut up about the Key, when she spotted something down the lane to her right. A wonky wooden post was sticking out of the hedgerow, and there was writing on it.
“Look, there’s a signpost. That might tell us where the footpath goes.” Bryony hurried down the lane towards the sign, but Edwin reached it first.
“What does it say?” Bryony was unable to decipher the faded letters.
Edwin wasn’t sure, but he thought it said something like…
“Barrenbrake Farm,” said a smooth, posh sounding voice.
Edwin and Bryony wheeled round in unison, and saw a man in the lane behind them. He was of striking appearance, with high cheekbones, a prominent chin, and a slender elongated nose. His eyes were a dark shade of amber, matching his large sideburns and old-fashioned handlebar moustache. He wore a brown tweed jacket, and a pair of voluminous trousers tucked neatly into shiny black riding boots.
“Hello,” said Bryony, taken aback by the man’s sudden appearance. “Do you live at the farm?”
“Heavens no.” The man flinched, as though he found the question offensive. “No one lives there, not any more. May I enquire what business you may have at such a place?”
“None really,” replied Edwin. “We’re just looking for a way home.”
“I see.” The man nodded. “And where would home be?”
Edwin didn’t get a chance to explain.
“Hello.” Bill grinned as he strode up to the man. “We’re just out for a stroll. Lovely weather, eh?”
“Undoubtedly,” said the man. “Better to get lost in the sun than the rain.”
“We’re not lost.” Bill’s grin vanished, and he glared accusingly at Bryony and Edwin. “Who said we’re lost?”
“Forgive me,” said the man. “But you must be lost if you’re heading towards Barrenbrake Farm. I’d turn back if I were you. Follow the lane up to the main road, you should be able find your way home easily enough from there.”
“But that’s miles,” protested Bill. “Surely it will be quicker to follow the footpath.”
The amber eyed man shook his head. “The footpath runs right through the yard of Barrenbrake Farm. And I must advise you not to venture there. You see there’s been… an outbreak.”
Jane frowned. “You mean some sort of cattle disease?”
“A disease sure enough,” said the man. “As virulent and deadly as any plague that scoured this land.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Jane glanced nervously at Bill. “I told you we should have brought our first aid kit.”
The posh man shook his head. “I am afraid the outbreak is beyond mere sticking plasters. You have just come through the Cursed Field, yes?”
“The Cursed Field?” Bryony stared at the man. “You mean that dead bit of land back up the lane?”
The man nodded. “That dead bit of land belongs to Barrenbrake Farm. And the state of desolation you witnessed there is nothing compared to the farm itself.” The man’s amber gaze lingered on Bryony, then he turned and pointed up the lane. “You should be on your way. It will be dark in a few hours, and there are no streetlights for miles.”
“We’d best do as the gentleman says,” said Jane, ignoring a doubtful look from Bill. “Thank you for your advice, mister…”
“Rathbone.” The man took Jane’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “And my official title is Captain. Captain Rathbone, and glad to be of service.”
Jane smiled, and Edwin thought he saw his mother’s freckled cheeks blush a little.
“Yeah cheers.” Bill hastily removed Jane’s hand from the Captain’s grasp. “But I’m more than capable of getting my family home without your advice. And I’m going to stick to the designated public footpath.”
“But what about the outbreak?” asked Edwin.
“We’ll be perfectly safe,” Bill assured his stepson. “Farm diseases only affect dumb animals.”
“Exactly.” Edwin nodded at Bill. “It’s you I’m thinking of.”
Jane shot her son an admonishing look, but nodded as she turned to her husband. “Edwin’s right. It would be safer if we took the Captain’s advice and walked up to the main road.”
Bill shook his head. “But it will take hours to get home that way.” Then he raised a pointed finger. “I know. Let’s put it to the vote. It’s down to you, Bryony. Main road or footpath?”
Everyone looked at Bryony, who shifted uncomfortably under their expectant gaze. The Captain’s warning had struck a chord, especially after her experience in the Cursed Field. But then again, her feet were killing her, and she’d had enough of traipsing around the countryside.
“It’ll be quicker through the farm,” said Bill, as though reading her mind.
“OK,” said Bryony. “But…”
“Decision carried.” Bill spun round and marched off down the lane. “Through the farm it is. Last one home has to hand-wash my socks.”
Eager to avoid such a grisly forfeit, Bryony hurried after her father.
Edwin was going to argue that two votes all didn’t mean the decision was carried, but he knew from past experience that Bill’s idea of democratic process was a bit on the fuzzy side.
“I’m sorry about my husband,” said Jane, smiling ruefully at the Captain.
“You have made a grave mistake,” said the Captain.
“That’s what my mother said,” reflected Jane. “But once you get to know him…”
“I meant about going through the farm.” The Captain coughed awkwardly. “However I have no legal jurisdiction over you, so am powerless to take any further action. But if you need me, I may be found at my residence in the other side of the hill.”
Edwin was going to ask the Captain if he’d meant ‘on’ rather than ‘in’ the hill, but didn’t get the chance to pose the question.
“Come on you two!” called Bill, waving at Jane and Edwin.
Jane smiled her thanks again at the Captain, and then set off down the lane, beckoning for Edwin to follow.
Edwin also wanted to thank Captain Rathbone for his help, but suddenly there was no one in the lane.
Then he glimpsed something climbing the opposite bank. It was gone in a flash, but Edwin rushed over and saw a hole in the hedgerow at the top of the bank. Intrigued, he clambered up and peered through the gap in the foliage. He could see an open field, and there was an animal running across it; a dog-like animal with a rusty red coat, pointed ears, and a bushy white tipped tail.
A fox.
Edwin liked foxes, and smiled as he watched the animal sprint across the field to melt into a copse of trees.
Then he caught more movement, this time in the sky. A black, tatty feathered bird swooped low across the field, emitting a raucous croak as it followed the fox into the trees. Edwin couldn’t be sure, but he thought the tatty bird had a bald head.
A tatty black bird with a bald head…
It couldn’t be.
“Hurry up, darling!”
Edwin heard his
mother’s voice, but it sounded like she was a million miles away. He stood staring into the field, forehead creased as he waited for another sighting of that strange tatty bird.
“Edwin, please don’t dawdle!”
Edwin blinked and shook his head. Of course, it could have been any bird. Probably nothing to worry about. And even if it was, he had the Wychetts Key under his hat.
“Edwin, are you going to stand there all day?”
“Coming.” Edwin slid down the bank and ran to his waiting mother.
Chapter 3- Trespassers Will Be Shot
Wychetts and the Farm of Fear Page 4