Back at our farm, wine was something we drank rarely. Mam makes her own elderberry wine and it's really good. It only comes out on special occasions though: when I lived at home, I was lucky to be given half a small glass twice a year. The Spook finished off a whole bottle in less than fifteen minutes and later he was sick - so sick that he nearly choked to death there and then. Of course, I had to clean up the mess using the other strips of sheet.
Alice came back soon after that and made up another potion with the roots she'd found. We worked together and managed to get it down the Spook's throat, and within moments he was asleep again.
That done, Alice sniffed the air and wrinkled up her nose. Even after I'd changed the bedclothes the room still stank to high heaven, so that I couldn't smell the flowers any more. At least, that's what I thought at the time. I didn't realize that the Spook was on the mend.
So the doctor and nurse were both proved wrong: within hours the fever had gone and my master was coughing up thick phlegm from his lungs, filling handkerchiefs as quickly as I could find them, so I ended up tearing another sheet into strips. He was on the slow road to recovery. And once again we owed it all to Alice.
Chapter 10
The Hursts returned the following day but looked lost and bewildered, as if they didn't know how to start clearing up the mess. The Spook spent most of his time sleeping but we couldn't let him stay in a room with the wind howling in through the broken window, so I took some money from his bag and gave it to Mr Hurst to pay for some of the repairs.
Workmen were employed from the village: a glazier fitted new glass to the bedroom and kitchen windows while Shanks boarded up the rest temporarily to keep the elements out. I had a busy day myself, making up the fires in the bedrooms and one downstairs in the kitchen, helping with the farm chores too, especially the milking. Mr Hurst did some work but his heart wasn't in it. It seemed as if he didn't enjoy life any more and had lost the will to live.
'Oh dear! Oh dear!' he kept muttering wearily to himself. And once I heard him say quite distinctly, as he looked up at the barn roof, his face filled with anguish, 'What did I do? What did I do to deserve this?'
That night, just after we'd finished our supper, there were three loud raps on the front door and they brought poor Mr Hurst to his feet so suddenly that he almost fell backwards over his chair.
'I'll go,' Mrs Hurst said, laying her hand gently on her husband's arm. 'You stay here, love, and try to keep calm. Don't go upsetting yourself again.'
By their reaction I guessed it was Morgan at the door. And there was something about the manner of the three loud raps that chilled me to the bone. My suspicions were confirmed when Alice looked at me, turned down the corners of her mouth and mouthed silently the word 'Morgan'.
Morgan swaggered into the room ahead of his mother. He was carrying a staff and bag. Wearing his cloak and hood, he looked every inch a spook.
'Well, this is cosy. And if it isn't the young apprentice himself,' he said, turning to me. 'Master Ward, we meet again.'
I nodded in reply.
'So what's been happening here, Old Man?' Morgan taunted Mr Hurst. 'That farmyard's a disgrace. Have you no pride in yourself? You're letting this place go to rack and ruin.'
'Ain't his fault. Stupid or something, are you?' Alice snapped, hostility heavy in her voice. 'Any fool can see if s the work of a boggart!'
Morgan frowned angrily and glared at her, raising his stick a little, but Alice returned his gaze with a mocking smile.
'So the Spook sent his apprentice to deal with it, did he?' Morgan said, turning towards his mother. 'Well, that's gratitude for you, isn't it, Old Woman? You take in a little witch for him and he can't even be bothered to come and help bind your boggart. He always was a cold-hearted wretch.'
I was on my feet in an instant. 'Mr Gregory came right away. He's upstairs because he was badly hurt dealing with the boggart-'
Immediately I knew that I'd said too much. Suddenly I felt afraid for my master. Morgan had threatened him in the past and now the Spook was weak and defenceless.
'Oh, so you can speak,' he said, mocking me. 'If you ask me, your master's clearly past it. Hurt binding a boggart? Good Lord, thaf s the easiest trick in the book! But that's what age does. Clearly the old fool's past his best. I'd better go upstairs and have a word with him.'
With that, Morgan crossed the kitchen and began to climb the wooden stairs to the bedrooms. I leaned across and whispered that Alice should stay where she was. Then I left the kitchen and made for the stairs. At first I thought that Mrs Hurst was going to ask me to stay, but she simply sat down and buried her face in her hands.
I began to creep up the stairs, but they were creaky so I only climbed three before pausing to listen to Morgan's raucous laughter from above, followed by the sound of the Spook coughing. Then the stair creaked behind me, and I turned and looked down to see Alice with her finger against her lips to signal silence.
Next the Spook's voice came from the bedroom above. 'Still digging into that old mound?' I heard him ask. 'It'll be the death of you one day. Have more sense. Keep well clear while you've still got breath left in your body'
'You could make it easy for me,' Morgan replied. 'Just give me back what's mine. Thaf s all I ask.'
'If I gave you that, you'd do untold damage. That's if you survived. Why does it have to be this way? Stop meddling with the dark and sort yourself out, lad! Remember the promises you made to your mother. It's still not too late to make something of your life.'