'Don't pretend to care about me,' answered Morgan. 'And don't you dare talk about my mother. You never cared one jot about any of us and that's the truth. Nobody except that witch. Once Meg Skelton came into the picture my poor mother didn't have a chance. And where did that get you? And where did it get her but condemned to a life of misery?'
'Nay, lad. I cared about you and I cared about your mother. I loved her once, as you well know, and all my life I've done my level best to help her. And for her sake I've tried to help you, despite all that you've done!'
The Spook started to cough again and I heard Morgan curse and start to walk towards the door. 'Things are different now, Old Man, and I will have what's owed to me,' he said. 'And if you won't give it to me, then I'll use other means.'
Alice and I turned together and went back down the stairs. We just made it into the kitchen before his boot scuffed against the top stair.
As it was, Morgan didn't even look at us. With a face like thunder, ignoring his mam and dad, he strode straight through the kitchen and into the hallway. We all listened quietly as he drew back a bolt, unlocked a door in the hall and started stamping about in the room behind. After a few moments we heard him come out again, then lock and bar the door. A moment later he'd left the house; the front door slammed shut behind him.
At the table nobody spoke, but I couldn't help glancing at Mrs Hurst. So the Spook had loved her once too. That would make three women he'd been involved with! And that was one reason why Morgan seemed to bear a grudge against him.
'Let's get you up to bed, love,' Mrs Hurst said to her husband, her voice soft and affectionate. 'A good night's sleep is what you need. You'll feel much better in the morning.'
With that, the two of them left the table, poor Mr Hurst shuffling towards the door with his head bowed. I felt really sorry for them both. Nobody deserved a son like Morgan. His wife paused in the doorway and looked back at us. 'Don't be too late coming up, you two,' she said, and we both nodded politely and then listened to them climbing the stairs together.
'Well,' said Alice, 'that just leaves the two of us. So why don't we go and look at Morgan's room? Who knows what we might find ...'
'The room he just went in?'
Alice nodded. 'Strange noises sometimes come from it. I'd like to see what's inside.'
So she picked up the candle from its holder on the table and led the way out of the kitchen, through the living room and into the hallway.
There were two rooms that led from that hallway. With your back to the front door you could go right into the living room; on the left was another door painted black. It had a bolt on the outside.
'This is it,' Alice whispered, touching the door with the tip of her left pointy shoe and drawing back the bolt. 'If it hadn't been locked, I would've had a nosy round in there already. But now it ain't no problem. Your key'll soon get that open, Tom.' She pointed at the lock.
My key did unlock the door and I eased it open. It was quite a big room, longer than it was wide, with one boarded-up window at the far end, hung with heavy black curtains. The floor was flagged like the rest of the downstairs, but there were no rugs or carpets. And there were only three items of furniture in the room: a long wooden table with a straight-backed chair at each end.
Alice led the way into the room.
'Not much to see, is there?' I said. 'What did you expect to find?'
'Ain't sure, but I thought there'd be something more,' Alice began. 'Sometimes I hear bells ringing in here. Mostly little bells, they are, ones that you could hold in your hand. But I once heard a funeral bell that sounded big enough to be clanging from a church tower. Then there's often the sound of water dripping and a girl crying. I suppose that's his dead sister.'
'You hear the sounds when he's inside the room?'
'Mostly, but even when he ain't home I sometimes hear a dog barking and growling or even snuffling right up close to the door like it's trying to get free. That's why the Hursts always keep it bolted. I think they're scared that something nasty might get out.'
'I don't feel anything here now though,' I told Alice. There was no sense of the cold that warns me when something from the dark is close. 'The Spook says Morgan's a necromancer who uses the dead. He talks to them and makes them do his bidding.'
'Where does he get his power from? Don't use bone or blood magic like a witch,' Alice said, wrinkling her nose, 'and he don't have a familiar either. I'd be able to sniff it out for sure if it was one of them. So what is it, Tom?'
I shrugged. 'Maybe it's Golgoth, one of the Old Gods. You heard what the Spook just said about Morgan digging into that mound and that it would be the death of him? Well, it's a barrow called the Round Loaf and it's high up on the moor. Maybe he's trying to summon Golgoth like the ancients did. Maybe Golgoth wants to be summoned and is helping him in some way. But Morgan can't do it yet because the Spook has something that he needs. Something that would make it easier.'
Alice nodded thoughtfully. 'That could be it, Tom, but some of the things they said were puzzling too. Don't see Old Gregory and Mrs Hurst together. Find it hard to believe that they were a couple.'
I found it hard to believe too. Very hard. Anyway, there was nothing much to see, so we left the room and locked and bolted it behind us. There were mysteries to be solved - secrets in the Spook's past - and I was growing more and more curious.