The farmhouse, when I finally reached it, was a small ramshackle building with slates missing from the roof. When I knocked on the door there was no reply, but I was pleased to see a couple of horses tethered behind the house, and a cart that, although it had clearly seen far better days, at least had four wheels. Mr Benson was no doubt out tending his sheep.
I waited almost an hour, and was just about to give up and go back to Todmorden when a wiry old farmer with a collie at his heels came into view.
‘Be off with you!’ he cried, waving his stick at me. ‘Strangers ain’t welcome here! Be off or I’ll set my dog on you!’
I stood my ground and waited for him to reach me. The dog didn’t look particularly fierce but I held my staff at the ready just in case.
‘I’ve come with an offer of work,’ I told him. ‘You’ll be well paid. We need some books transporting to Chipenden. I was told you had a cart.’
‘Aye, that I do, and I certainly need some brass. But books? Books, did you say? I’ve carted some things in my time: coal, manure, mutton, even people, but never books. What is the world coming to! Where are these books?’ he asked, looking around as if expecting to see them piled up somewhere.
‘They’re at the big house at the top of Bent Lane,’ I told him.
‘Bent Lane? But that’s on the other side of the river. You won’t get me over that bridge for all the brass in the world!’
‘Is it the bridge that worries you? If necessary, we can carry the books over to this side.’
‘The bridge is sturdier than it looks, but it’s the things on the other side that bother me. I’d never get my horses onto that side of the river anyway. They’d be scared of being eaten.’
‘By the bears?’ I asked.
‘Aye, maybe by the bears – but maybe by other things that it’s best not to think about – by the foreigners!’
It was a waste of time arguing with a man who held such crazy notions, so I quickly suggested a compromise: ‘Will you do the job if we carry the books across the bridge?’
‘Aye, that I will, just as long as the sun’s high in the sky,’ Mr Benson said. ‘I’ll be there at noon tomorrow. How much will ye pay?’
‘That’s up to my master, John Gregory, but he said he’ll be generous so don’t you worry.’
We shook hands on it and I set off back towards Todmorden. It would take several trips for us to get the books to this side of the river, but it was the best deal I could get. And then a word came into my head – foreigners – and a chill ran down my spine.
In the County, folk sometimes used the word ‘foreigners’ when talking about outsiders – even people from a neighbouring county. But I suddenly thought of Mistress Fresque. She came from Romania and was a true foreigner to our shores, like her uncle before her. Was the Spook’s instinct correct? Did she pose some kind of threat? Was she the one that people on this bank of the river were scared of?
I suddenly realized that the sun would be setting in less than half an hour. It would be dark before I reached the house! Could my master be in danger? I wondered.
I broke into a run. Surely the Spook wouldn’t stay there? No – he’d return to the tavern. But if I got back after dark I’d be locked out . . . or would my master let me in despite the wishes of the innkeeper?
The sun went down well before I began my descent into Todmorden. By the time I reached the tavern it was totally dark. I hammered on the door. The sound echoed along the streets, and I had that strange feeling again – the one I’d had as we’d approached Cosmina’s house: as if something dangerous was nearby but invisible; as if the whole world was holding its breath.
Now I felt really scared, and I thumped on the door again, this time with my staff. I kept hammering at it until I got a response. It wasn’t the one I’d hoped for. I’d expected my master to come downstairs and let me in. Instead the window directly above the door opened and a voice called down:
‘Be off with you! You’ll attract trouble making all that noise.’
It was the landlord, but there was no light shining from the open window and his face was in darkness.
‘Let me in!’ I cried.
‘I have told you already: nobody enters here after dark!’ he hissed down at me. ‘Come back tomorrow morning – if you’re still breathing.’
‘Please tell my master I’m here, then,’ I begged, unnerved by his words. ‘Ask him to come and talk to me.’
‘You’re wasting your time. Your master isn’t here. He didn’t come back. If he’s still at Mistress Fresque’s house, you won’t be seeing him again. Best thing you can do, boy, is stay on this side of the river until dawn!’
My heart lurched at his words; they confirmed my worst fears. The Spook was in danger.
The landlord slammed the window shut, leaving me alone. My body started to shake, and I suddenly felt a strong urge to take his advice and stay on this side of the bridge. But how could I leave my master? I might already be too late, but I had to try and save him, whatever the cost to myself. What sort of threat did Mistress Fresque pose? Farmer Benson had talked about the ‘foreigners’ eating his horses. It had seemed a crazy thing to say at the time, but now I considered the implications of his words. Did they eat people too? Could they be cannibals?
I crossed the river and set off for Bent Lane, where I stopped and listened. All I could hear was the wind sighing through the trees. Then, somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted twice. A crescent moon hung just above the horizon, but its light could not penetrate the canopy that shrouded the lane. It was a dark tunnel filled with unknown dangers. Gripping my staff tightly, I began to walk up the slope towards the house.
Perhaps the Spook had simply accepted an invitation to spend the night at Mistress Fresque’s house. If so, was he simply a guest or in real danger? Was I worrying for nothing – simply letting my imagination get the better of me? Judd would be staying at the house as well, so there were two spooks to deal with any threat. Well, I told myself, I would find out soon enough.
I was about halfway up the lane when I heard something moving to my right. Something big was padding through the trees. I came to a halt, my heart thumping, alert for danger, and held my staff diagonally in front of me.
The noises stopped. When I set off again, they started up too. It sounded like a large animal beside me, almost as if I was being escorted. Was it a bear? If so, at least it wasn’t getting any closer.