But it was more than just a few hours that I stayed in bed. I developed a raging fever, and the doctor came up from Adlington three times before he was finally satisfied that I was on the mend. In fact, it was almost a week before I was fit to come downstairs again, with most of the daylight hours spent wrapped in a blanket before the study fire.
The Spook didn’t work me too hard at my lessons, either, and it was another full week after that before I was finally fit enough to walk down into Adlington and see Alice. She was minding the shop alone. As no customers called, we had time for a long chat. We talked in the shop, leaning on the bare wooden counter.
While I’d been ill, the Spook had already visited, and she knew most of what had happened. So all I had to do was fill in the details and apologize once more for keeping things from her.
“Anyway, Alice, thanks for telling the Spook I’d gone to the chapel. Otherwise I’d never have been found,” I said, reaching the end of my tale at last.
“I still wish you’d trusted me more, Tom. You should have told me a lot earlier what Morgan was doing to your dad.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I won’t hold anything back in the future. . . .”
“Never going to get in Old Gregory’s good books, though, am I? He don’t trust me one little bit!”
“He thinks a lot better of you than he used to,” I said. “Give it time, that’s all.”
“But in spring, when you go back to Chipenden, I’ll have to stay here. Wish I could come with you. . . .”
“I thought you liked working in Andrew’s shop.”
“Could be worse,” Alice said, “but Chipenden’s lots better. I like being in that big house with its garden. And I’ll miss you, Tom.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Alice. But at least you’re not in Pendle. Anyway, next winter we’ll be back, and I’ll try and visit you more often.”
“Be nice, that would,” Alice said.
After a while she cheered up, and finally, just as I was about to go, she asked me to do something.
“The morning you set off for Chipenden, will you ask Old Gregory if he’ll take me as well?”
“I’ll ask. But I don’t think it’ll do any good, Alice.”
“But you’ll ask him, won’t you? Ain’t going to bite your head off for asking, is he?”
“All right. I’ll ask him.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I said with a smile. Making promises to Alice had got me into trouble in the past, but this one couldn’t do much harm. At the worst, the Spook could only refuse.
CHAPTER XXII
For the Best
ALTHOUGH it had been a cold winter, within three weeks of Morgan’s death the weather turned much warmer and a thaw set in. That made it possible for Shanks to make his first delivery for ages. As usual, I helped him to unload, but when he left, the Spook followed him for quite a way down the clough and they had a long conversation together.
A few days later, just after breakfast, Shanks delivered a coffin to our door, the little pony almost staggering under its weight. After it was untied, we lifted it down carefully. It wasn’t quite as heavy as it looked, but it was a bit on the large side, and I’d never seen a coffin so well made. It had two brass carrying handles at each side and was made out of dark polished wood. We didn’t carry it into the house but just left it close to the back door.
“What’s this for?” I asked the Spook as Shanks disappeared into the distance.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he said, tapping the side of his nose. “Have a think and get back to me when you’ve worked it out.”
It was lunchtime before my suspicions were confirmed.
“I’ll be away for a few days, lad. Think you can manage on your own?”
My mouth was full, so I nodded and carried on tucking into my lamb stew.
“Aren’t you going to ask where I’m going?”
“Spook’s business?” I suggested.
“Nay, lad. This is family business. Meg and her sister are going home. They’ll be sailing from Sunderland Point, and I’m going to see them safely on their way.”
Sunderland Point was south of Heysham and the largest port in the County. Boats from all over the world sailed up the River Lune to anchor there. I knew then that I’d guessed right about the coffin.
“So Marcia will be in the box,” I said.
“Got it first time, lad,” said the Spook with a smile. “An especially large dose of herb tea should keep her quiet. She could hardly board in the usual way. Might upset some of the passengers. As far as the harbormaster is concerned, Meg’s sister died and she’s taking her home for burial. Anyway, as I said, I’ll be going with them as far as the port just to see them safely embarked. We’ll be traveling by night, of course. No doubt we’ll book into an inn and Meg will spend the daylight hours behind closed curtains. I’ll be sad to see her go, but it’s for the best.”
“I once overheard you talking to Meg about a garden that you shared together. Was it your garden at Chipenden?” I asked.
“Aye, it was, lad. The western garden, as you might expect. We spent many a happy hour sitting on that very same bench where I often give you lessons now.”
“So what happened?” I asked. “Why did you bring Meg to Anglezarke and put her in the cellar? Why did she have to be dosed with herb tea?”
“What went on between Meg and me is our private business!” the Spook snapped, giving me a long, searching look. For a moment he looked really angry, and I realized that my curiosity had made me go too far. But then he sighed and shook his head wearily.
“As you know, Meg is still a good-looking woman, but when she was young she was too pretty by far and turned lots of men’s heads. I was jealous to a fault, and we quarreled too many times to count. But that wasn’t all. She was willful, too, and made lots of enemies in the County. Those who crossed her learned to fear her. And those who live in fear for too long become dangerous. She was finally accused of witchcraft, and reports were made to the high sheriff at Caster. It was a very serious business, and they sent a constable to arrest her.”
“She’d have been safe in your house at Chipenden, wouldn’t she? The boggart would have stopped the constable from getting anywhere near her.”
“It would that, lad. It would have stopped him dead! But he was just doing his job, and although I loved Meg, I didn’t want the loss of that young constable’s life on my conscience. So I had to make sure that Meg disappeared. I went down into the village and met him there and, with the help of the blacksmith as witness, managed to convince him that she’d fled the County.
“As a result, I brought her here, and she spent her summers locked in the room on the cellar steps and her winters confined to the house. It was either that, or she’d swing at the end of a rope—as you know, they hang witches at Caster. At one point, years later, she got out and terrified some of the locals. To keep them quiet, I had to promise that I’d bind her in a pit in the cellar. That was why Shanks was so upset when he saw her that morning. Anyway, now, at long last, she’s going home. It was something I should have done years ago, but I just couldn’t let her go.”
“So she wants to go home?”
“I think she knows it’s for the best. Besides, Meg no longer feels about me the way I still feel about her,” he said, looking older and sadder than I’d ever seen him before. “I’m going to miss her, lad. Miss her sorely. Life won’t be the same without her. She was the only thing that made the winters here bearable. . . .”
At sunset I watched the Spook seal Meg’s sister, Marcia, into her coffin. Then, when the last of the brass screws had been tightened, I helped him carry it down the clough. It was heavy and we staggered a bit under the weight, struggling to keep our feet on the soft, muddy ground, while Meg walked behind, carrying her own bags. As we proceeded in solemn silence down into the gloom of the valley, it reminded me of a real funeral.
The Spook had arranged for a coach to be w
aiting for us on the road. The four horses became nervous as we approached, their nostrils dilating, breath steaming in the moonlight, and the driver struggled to control them. Once they’d been steadied, he climbed down, looking very nervous himself, came across to the Spook and touched his own cap in deference. His jowls were wobbling, and he looked ready to jump out of his skin.
“There’s nothing to fear, and as I promised, I’ll pay you well. Now help me lift this up,” the Spook said to him, tapping Marcia’s coffin. They heaved it up onto the rack at the rear of the coach, and the Spook watched closely as the driver secured it with rope.
While they were busy, Meg approached and smiled at me grimly, showing her teeth.
“You’re a dangerous boy, Tom Ward, a very dangerous boy,” she said, leaning closer. “Take care not to make too many enemies.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Will you do one thing for me, boy?” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded uneasily.
“He’s not as cold as he’d have everyone believe,” she said, gesturing to my master. “Look after him for me.” So I smiled and nodded.
When the Spook joined us, she gave him a warm, friendly smile that made me think that deep down she still cared something for him. And then she took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Tears were glistening in his eyes, and he looked choked with emotion.
Embarrassed, I turned my back on them and walked away a few paces. They whispered to each other for a few moments and then walked to the coach together. While the driver held open the door and gave her a little bow, the Spook helped Meg up. Then he walked back over to me.
“Right, lad, we’ll be on our way. You get yourself back to the house,” said the Spook.
“Would it help if I came with you?” I asked.
“Nay, lad, thanks all the same. There are some things that I need to do on my own. One day, when you’re older, I think you’ll understand. But I hope you’ll never have to go through anything like this.”
But I understood already: I remembered seeing him with Meg in the kitchen, tears on his cheeks. I knew how he felt. Also, I could imagine myself being in the Spook’s position and having to say good-bye to Alice for the last time. Was this how Alice and I would end up?
A few moments later the Spook got in, and no sooner had he seated himself down next to Meg than the driver flicked his whip above the backs of the four horses. The coach trundled away and began to gather speed. They were on their way north, their destination Sunderland Point, while I made my way slowly back up the clough toward the house.
Once inside, I heated some pea soup for my supper and settled down beside the fire. There was no wind outside, and I could hear every squeak and groan in the old house. The floorboards settled, a stair creaked, a mouse pattered behind the wall. And I even fancied that below in the cellar, far beyond the metal gate, I could hear the whisperings of the dead and the nearly dead, down in their pits.
It was then that I realized just how far I’d come. There I was, alone in a big house with a cellar full of trapped boggarts and witches, and I wasn’t scared one little bit. I was the Spook’s apprentice, and in the spring I’d have completed my first year of training. Four more years, and I’d be a spook myself!
CHAPTER XXIII
Back to Chipenden
LATE one morning at the very end of April, as I went to get water from the stream, the Spook followed me outside. The sun had just risen over the edge of the clough, and he smiled up toward its faint warmth. On the cliff behind the house, the ice stalactites were melting fast, water dripping onto the flags.
“This is the first day of spring, lad,” he said, “so we’ll go to Chipenden!”
I’d been waiting to hear those words for weeks. Since returning without Meg, the Spook had been very quiet, retreating into himself, and the house had seemed more gloomy and depressing than ever. I was desperate to get away.
So for the next hour I rushed around doing all the necessary jobs: cleaning out the grates and washing all the pots, plates, and cups to make life easier on our return next winter. At last the Spook locked the back door behind us and was striding away down the clough, with me following happily at his heels, carrying two bags, as usual, as well as my rowan staff.
I had remembered my promise to Alice—to ask if she could come with us to Chipenden—but was just waiting for the right moment, when I realized that, rather than taking the most direct route to the north, we were heading straight toward Adlington. Even though he’d visited him the previous day, I supposed that the Spook wanted to say another farewell to his brother. I was still dithering about mentioning Alice when we came in sight of the shop.
To my surprise, both Andrew and Alice came out to meet us on the cobbled street. Alice was carrying a small bundle of belongings and appeared ready for a journey. She was smiling and looked excited.
“Have a good, prosperous summer, Andrew,” the Spook called out cheerfully. “See you in November!”
“Same to you, brother!” Andrew replied with a wave.
Next, to my utter astonishment, the Spook turned and led the way, and when I turned to follow, Alice fell into step beside me, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, lad,” called the Spook over his shoulder, “Alice will be coming to stay with us in Chipenden on the same terms as previously. I arranged it all yesterday with Andrew. She needs to be where I can keep a watchful eye on her!”
“Big surprise, is it, Tom? Glad to see me, are you?” Alice asked.
“Of course I’m glad to see you, and I’m really pleased that you’re coming back to Chipenden with us. It’s the last thing I expected. Mr. Gregory didn’t say a word about it.”
“Oh! Didn’t he?” Alice laughed. “Well, now you know what it feels like when people keep secrets and don’t tell you things you ought to know! Serves you right!”
I laughed as well. I didn’t mind Alice’s gibe. I deserved it. I should have told her all about my intention to steal the grimoire. If I had, she might have drummed some sense into my head. But it was all over now, and we walked along happily together on our way back to Chipenden at last.
The following day there was another surprise. The route back to Chipenden led us to within about four miles of our farm. I was going to ask if I could call in, but the Spook beat me to it.
“I reckon you should pay a visit home, lad. You might find that mother of yours is back; if so, she’ll be expecting to see you. I’ll press straight ahead, because I need to visit a surgeon on the way.”
“A surgeon? Are you ill?” I asked, starting to worry for him.
“Nay, lad. The man in question does a bit of dentistry as a sideline. He’s got a big supply of dead men’s teeth, and there’s bound to be something that’ll fit,” he said, giving me a wide smile so that I had a good view of the gap left where the boggart had knocked out his front tooth.
“Where does he get them from?” I asked, appalled. “From grave robbers?”
“Most of them come from old battlefields,” the Spook said, with a shake of his head. “He’ll make me up a denture, and I’ll soon be as good as new. He does a nice line in bone buttons, too. Meg made all her own dresses and was one of his best customers,” the Spook said sadly.
I was glad to hear that. At least her buttons hadn’t come from her past victims, as I’d first suspected.
“Anyway, off you go now,” said the Spook, “and take the girl with you for a bit of company on the way back.”
I was happy to obey. No doubt the Spook didn’t want Alice following at his heels. But I would have the usual problem. Jack wouldn’t want her to take one step across the farm boundary, and as Brewer’s Farm belonged to him now, it wasn’t worth arguing.
An hour or so later, Alice and I were in sight of the farm when I noticed something very unusual. To the north, just beyond the farm boundary, was Hangman’s Hill, where a plume of dark smo
ke was now rising from the trees at its summit. Someone had lit a fire there. Who would do that? Nobody ever went there because it was haunted by the ghasts of men who’d been hanged during the civil war that had swept through the County generations earlier. Even the farm dogs kept well clear.
Instinctively I knew it was Mam. Why she should be up there I couldn’t guess, but who else would dare? So we skirted the farm to the east and, once beyond its northern boundary, headed up the hill through the trees. Of the ghasts there was no sign, and Hangman’s Hill was silent and still, the bare branches gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. The leaf buds were swollen, but it would still be a week or so until they unfolded. Spring had come very late this year.
Immediately we came to its summit, I was proved right. Mam was sitting in front of a fire gazing into the flames. She was sheltering under a refuge of branches, twigs, and dead leaves that shielded her from the sunlight. Her hair was matted with dirt, and it looked as if she hadn’t washed for a long time. She’d lost weight, too, and her face was gaunt, her expression sad and weary, perhaps of life itself.
“Mam! Mam!” I said, sitting down beside her on the damp earth. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer right away, and there was a faraway look in her eyes. At first I thought she hadn’t heard me. But then, still staring into the fire, she put her left hand on my shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re back, Tom,” she said at last. “I’ve been waiting here for days. . . .”
“Where’ve you been, Mam?”
She didn’t answer, but after a long pause she looked up and met my eyes. “I’ll be on my way soon, but we need to talk before I leave.”
“No, Mam, you’re in no state to go anywhere. Why don’t you go down to the farm and get some food inside you? You need a good night’s sleep, too. Does Jack know you’re here?”
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