"The Spook's Curse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Delaney Joseph)

CHAPTER 14

Dad’s Tale We came in sight of the farm about an hour before sunset. I knew that Dad and Jack would just be starting the milking so it was a good time to arrive. I needed a chance to speak to Mam on my own. I hadn’t been back home since the spring, when the old witch, Mother Malkin, had paid my family a visit. Thanks to Alice’s bravery on that occasion we’d destroyed her, but the incident had upset Jack and his wife Ellie, and I knew they wouldn’t be keen on me staying after dark. Spooks’ business scared them and they were worried that something might happen to their child. So I just wanted to help the Spook and then get back on the road as quickly as possible.

I was also aware that I was risking everyone’s lives by bringing the Spook and Alice to the farm. If the Quisitor’s men followed us here they would have no mercy on those harbouring a witch and a spook. I didn’t want to put my family in any more danger than I had to, so I decided to leave Alice and the Spook just outside the farm boundary. There was an old shepherd’s hut belonging to the nearest farm to us. They’d gone over to cattle so it hadn’t been used for years. I helped Alice get the Spook inside and told her to wait there. That done, I crossed the field, heading directly towards the fence that bordered our farmyard.

When I opened the door to the kitchen, Mam was in her usual place in the corner next to the fire, sitting in her rocking chair. The chair was very still and she just stared at me as I went in. The curtains were already closed, and in the brass candlestick the beeswax candle was alight.

‘Sit down, son,’ she invited, her voice low and soft. ‘Pull up a chair and tell me all about it.’ She didn’t seem in the least bit surprised to see me.

It was what I was used to. Mam was often in demand when midwives encountered problems with a difficult birth, and eerily she always knew when someone wanted her help long before the message arrived at the farm. She sensed these things, just as she’d sensed my approach. There was something special about my mam. She had gifts that someone like the Quisitor would want to destroy.

‘Something bad’s happened, hasn’t it?’ Mam said. ‘And what’s wrong with your hand?’

‘It’s nothing, Mam. Just a burn. Alice fixed it. It doesn’t hurt at all now.’

Mam raised her eyebrows at the mention of Alice. ‘Tell me all about it, son.’

I nodded, feeling a lump come into my throat. I tried three times before I was able to get my first sentence out. When I did manage to speak, it all came out in a rush.

‘They almost burned Mr Gregory, Mam. The Quisitor caught him in Priestown. We’ve escaped but they’ll be after us, and the Spook’s not well. He needs help. We all do.’

The tears started to run down my face as I admitted to myself what was now bothering me most of all. The main reason I hadn’t wanted to go to the beacon fell was because I’d been scared. I’d been afraid that they’d catch me and that I would burn as well.

‘What on earth were you doing in Priestown?’ Mam asked.

‘Mr Gregory’s brother died and his funeral was there. We had to go.’

‘You’re not telling me everything,’ Mam said. ‘How did you escape from the Quisitor?’

I didn’t want Mam to know what Alice had done. You see, Mam had once tried to help Alice and I didn’t want her to know how she’d finally ended up, turning to the dark as the Spook had always feared.

But I had no choice. I told her the full story. When I’d finished, Mam sighed deeply. ‘It’s bad, really bad,’ she said. ‘The Bane on the loose doesn’t bode well for anyone in the County – and a young witch bound to its will – well, I fear for us all. But we’ll just have to make the best of it. That’s all we can do. I’ll get my bag and go and see what I can do for poor Mr Gregory.’

‘Thanks, Mam,’ I told her, suddenly realizing that all I’d talked about had been my own troubles. ‘But how are things here? How’s Ellie’s baby doing?’ I asked.

Mam smiled but I detected a hint of sadness in her eyes. ‘Oh, the baby’s doing fine and Ellie and Jack are happier than they’ve ever been. But son,’ she said, touching my arm gently, ‘I’ve got some bad news for you too. It’s about your dad. He’s been very ill.’

I stood up, hardly able to believe what she was saying. The look on her face told me that it was serious.

‘Sit down, son,’ she said, ‘and listen carefully before you start getting all upset. It’s bad but it could have been a lot worse. It started as a heavy cold but then it got on his chest and turned to pneumonia and we nearly lost him. He’s on the mend now, I hope, but he’ll need to wrap up well this winter. I’m afraid he won’t be able to do much on the farm any more. Jack will just have to cope without him.’

‘I could help out, Mam.’

‘No, son, you’ve got your own job to do. With the Bane free and your master weakened the County needs you more than ever. Look, let me just go up first and tell your dad that you’re here. And I wouldn’t say anything about the trouble you’ve had. We don’t want to give him any bad news or nasty shocks. We’ll just keep that to ourselves.’

I waited in the kitchen but a couple of minutes later Mam came back downstairs, carrying her bag.

‘Well, you go up and see your dad while I go and help your master. He’s glad that you’re back but don’t keep him talking too long. He’s still very weak.’

Dad was sitting propped up in bed on several pillows. He smiled weakly when I came into the room. His face was gaunt and tired and there was a grey stubble on his chin that made him look much older.

‘What a nice surprise, Tom. Sit down,’ he said, nodding towards the chair at the side of the bed.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘If I’d known you were ill I’d have come home sooner to see you.’

Dad held up his hand as if to say it didn’t matter.

Then he began to cough violently. He was supposed to be getting better so I wouldn’t like to have heard him when he was really ill. The room had a smell of illness. The hint of something you never smelled outdoors. Something that only lingers in sick rooms.

‘How’s the job going?’ he asked, when he’d finally stopped choking.

‘Not bad. I’m getting used to it now and I prefer it to farming,’ I said, pushing all that had happened to the very back of my mind.

‘Farming too dull for you, eh?’ he asked with a faint smile. ‘Mind you, I wasn’t always a farmer.’

I nodded. In his younger days Dad had been a seaman. He’d told lots of tales of the places he’d visited. They’d been rich stories, full of colour and excitement. His eyes always shone with a faraway look when he remembered those times. I wanted to see that spark of life return to them.

‘Aye, Dad,’ I said, ‘tell me one of your stories. The one about that huge whale.’

He paused for a moment, then grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. ‘Reckon there’s one story I needs be telling you, son, before it’s too late.’

‘Don’t talk daft,’ I said, shocked by this turn in the conversation.

‘Nay, Tom, I’m hoping to see another spring and summer but I don’t think I’m long for this world. I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I reckon it’s time I told you what I know. I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while but you’re here now and who knows when I’ll see you next?’ He paused and then said, ‘It’s about your mother – how we met and the like.’

‘You’ll see lots of springs, Dad,’ I said, but I was surprised. For all my father’s wonderful stories, there was one he’d never told properly: how he’d met Mam. We could always tell that he never really wanted to talk about it. He either changed the subject or told us to go and ask her. We never did. When you’re a child there are things you don’t understand but just don’t ask about. You know that your dad and mam don’t want to tell you. But today was different.

He shook his head wearily, then bowed it low, as if a great burden was pressing down on his shoulders. When he straightened up again, the faint smile was back on his face.

‘I’m not sure she’ll thank me for telling you, mind, so let’s keep this between ourselves. I’ll not be telling your brothers either, and I’d ask you to do the same, son. But I think in your line of work, and you being a seventh son of a seventh son and all, well…’

He paused again and shut his eyes. I stared at him and felt a wave of sadness as I realized how old and ill he was looking. He opened his eyes again and began to talk.

‘We sailed into a little harbour to take on water,’ he said, beginning his tale as if he needed to get going quickly before he changed his mind. ‘It was a lonely place overhung with high, rocky hills, with just the harbour master’s house and a few small fishermen’s cottages built of white stone. We’d been at sea for weeks and the captain, being a good man, said that we deserved a break. So he gave us all shore leave. We took it in two shifts and I got the second one, which started well after dark.

“There were a dozen of us and when we finally made it to the nearest tavern, which was on the edge of a village almost halfway up a mountain, it was almost ready to close. So we drank fast, throwing strong spirits down our throats like there was no tomorrow, and then bought a flagon of red wine each to drink on the way back to the ship.

‘I must have drunk too much because I woke up alone at the side of the steep track that led down to the harbour. The sun was just about to come up but I wasn’t too bothered because we weren’t sailing till noon. I climbed to my feet and dusted myself off. It was then that I heard the sound of distant sobbing.

‘I listened for almost a minute before I made up my mind. I mean, it sounded just like a woman but how could I be sure? There are all sorts of strange tales from those parts about creatures that prey on travellers. I was alone and I don’t mind telling you I was scared, but if I hadn’t gone to see who was crying I’d never have met your mam and you wouldn’t be here now.

‘I climbed the steep hill at the side of the track and scrambled down the other side until it brought me right to the edge of a cliff. It was a high cliff, with the waves crashing on the rocks below, and I could see the ship at anchor in the bay and it was so small that it seemed as if it could fit into the palm of my hand.

‘A narrow rock jutted up from the cliff like a rat’s tooth and a young woman was sitting with her back to it, facing out to sea. She’d been bound to that rock with a chain. Not only that, but she was as naked as the day she was born.’

With those words, Dad blushed so deeply that his face turned almost County-red.

‘She started to try and tell me something then. Something that she feared. Something far worse than just being fastened to that rock. But she was speaking in her own language and I didn’t understand a word of it -I still don’t but she taught you well enough and, do you know, you were the only one that she bothered with in that way? She’s a good mother but none of your brothers heard even a word of Greek.’

I nodded. Some of my brothers hadn’t been best pleased by that, particularly Jack, and it had sometimes made life difficult for me.

‘No, she couldn’t explain in words what it was but there was something out to sea that was terrifying her. I couldn’t think what it could be, but then the tip of the sun came up above the horizon and she screamed.

‘I stared at her but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: tiny blisters began to erupt on her skin until, within less than a minute, she was a mass of sores. It was the sun she feared. To this day, as you’ve probably noticed, she finds it difficult to be out even in a County sun, but the sunlight in that land was fierce and without help she’d have died.

He paused to catch his breath, and I thought about Mam. I’d always known that she avoided sunlight -but it was something I’d just taken for granted.

‘What could I do?’ Dad continued. ‘I had to think fast so I took off my shirt and covered her with it. It wasn’t big enough so there was nothing else for it and I had to use my trousers as well. Then I crouched there with my back to the sun, so that my shadow fell over her, protecting her from its fierce light.

‘I stayed that way until long after noon, when the sun finally moved out of sight behind the hill. By then my ship had sailed without me and my back was raw’ with sunburn, but your mam was alive and the blisters had already faded away. I struggled to get her free of the chain, but whoever had tied it knew even more about knots than I did and I was a seaman. It was only when I finally got it off her that I noticed something so cruel that I could hardly believe it. I mean, she’s a good woman, your mam – how could someone have done such a thing, and to a woman too?’

Dad fell silent and stared down at his hands and I could see that they were trembling with the memory of what he’d seen. I waited almost a minute and then I prompted him gently.

‘What was it, Dad?’ I asked. ‘What had they done?’

When he looked up, his eyes were full of tears. “They’d nailed her left hand to the rock,’ he said. ‘It was a thick nail with a broad head and I couldn’t begin to think how I was going to get her hand free without hurting her even more. But she just smiled and tore her hand free, leaving the nail still in the rock. There was blood dripping onto the ground at her feet but she stood up and walked towards me as if it were nothing.

‘I took a step backwards and almost fell over the cliff but she put her right hand on my shoulder to steady me and then we kissed. Being a seaman who visited dozens of ports each year, I’d kissed a few women before but usually it was after I’d had a skinful of ale and was numb, sometimes even close to passing out. I’d never kissed a woman when sober and certainly never in broad daylight. I can’t explain it but I knew right away that she was the one for me. The woman I’d spend the rest of my life with.’

He started coughing then and it went on for a long time. When he’d finished it left him breathless and it was another couple of minutes before I spoke again. I should have let him rest but I knew I might not get another chance. My mind was racing. Some things in Dad’s tale reminded me of what the Spook had written about Meg. She’d also been bound with a chain. When released she’d kissed the Spook just as Mam had kissed Dad. I wondered if the chain was silver but I couldn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know the answer. If Dad had wanted me to know, he’d have told me.

‘What happened next, Dad? How did you manage to get back home?’

‘Your mother had money, son. She lived alone in a big house set in a garden surrounded by a high wall. It wasn’t more than a mile or so from where I’d found her so we went back there and I stayed. Her hand healed quickly, leaving not even the faintest of scars, and I taught her our language. Or, to be honest, she taught me how to teach her. I pointed at objects and said their names aloud. When she’d repeated what I’d said I’d just nod to say it sounded right. Once was enough for each word. Your mam’s sharp, son. Really sharp. She’s a clever woman and never forgets a thing.

‘Anyway, I stayed at that house for weeks and I was happy enough but for the odd night or so when her sisters came to visit. There were two of them, tall, fierce-looking women, and they used to build a fire out back behind the house and stay there till dawn talking to your mam. Sometimes all three of them would dance around the fire; other nights they played dice. But each time they came there were arguments and they gradually got worse.

‘I knew it was something to do with me because her sisters would glare at me through the window with anger in their eyes and your mam would wave at me to go back into the room. No, they didn’t like me much and that was the main reason, I think, that we left that house and came back to the County.

‘I’d set sail as a hired hand, an ordinary seaman, but I came back like a gentleman. Your mam paid for our passage home and we had a cabin all to ourselves. Then she bought this farm and we were married in the little church at Mellor, where my own mam and dad are buried. Your mother doesn’t believe what we believe but she did it for me so that the neighbours wouldn’t talk, and before the end of the year your brother Jack was born. I’ve had a good life, son, and the best part of it started the day I met your mam. But I’m telling you this because I want you to understand. You do realize, don’t you, that one day when I’m gone, she’ll go back home, back to where she belongs?’

My mouth opened in amazement when Dad said that. ‘What about her family?’ I asked. ‘Surely she wouldn’t leave her grandchildren?’

Dad shook his head sadly. ‘I don’t think she’s any choice, son. She once told me she’s what she calls “unfinished business” back there. I don’t know what it is and she never did tell me why she’d been fastened to the rock to die. She has her own world and her own life, and when the time comes, she’ll go back to it, so don’t make it hard for her. Look at me, lad. What do you see?’

I didn’t know what to say.

‘What you see is an old man who’s not long for this life. I see the truth of it every time I look in a mirror, so don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. As for your mam, she’s still in the prime of life. She may not be the girl she once was but she’s still got years of good living left in her. But for what I did that day, your mam wouldn’t have looked at me twice. She deserves her freedom, so let her go with a smile. Will you do that, son?’

I nodded and then stayed with him until he calmed down and drifted off to sleep.