'He really cares about you' I told Meg desperately. 'He always has. So please don't treat him like this! In fact, he loves you. He really loves you!' I said, repeating the words again. 'He actually wrote it down in one of his notebooks. I wasn't meant to find it, but I did and read it anyway. It's the truth.'
I could remember what he'd written word for word...
'How could I put her into the pit, when I realized that I loved her better than my own soul'
'Love!' sneered Meg. 'What does a man like that know about love?'
'It was when you first met and he was about to put you into a pit because it was his duty. He couldn't do it, Meg! He couldn't do it because he loved you too much. It went against everything he'd been taught and believed, but he still saved you from the pit! He only gave you the tea because there was no other choice. The pit or tea - he chose what he thought was best, because he cares about you so much.'
Meg gave a hiss of anger and peered down into the bucket as if she wanted to lick it clean or something. 'Well, that was a long time ago and he certainly has a funny way of showing it' she said. 'Perhaps now he'll understand just what it's like to be locked down here half the year. Because there's no hurry now. I'm going to take a long time thinking over just what to do with him. As for you, you're just a boy and I don't blame you that much. You don't know any better because that's how he's trained you. And it's a hard life. A difficult trade.
'I'd let you go' she went on. 'But you wouldn't be able to leave it there, would you? If s the way you've been made. The way you've been brought up. You'd go for help. You'd want to rescue him. Folks round here don't think much of me. Perhaps I've given them good reason in the past, but most deserved what they got. They'd come after me in a mob. Too many for me to do anything about. No, if I let you go, it could be the end of me. But I will promise you one thing. I won't give you to my sister. You don't deserve that.'
So saying, she gestured that I should move back; then she closed the door and locked it again.
'I'll bring something for you to eat later' she said through the bars. 'Maybe by then I'll have thought what's the best thing to do about you.'
It was hours and hours before she returned and in that time I'd had a chance to think and plan.
I was listening very carefully and I heard Meg start to descend the steps. Outside it would just be getting dark. I imagine she was bringing me an early supper. I hoped it wouldn't be my last. I heard her unlock the gate and the clang of it opening. I concentrated very hard then, noting the time that elapsed between the second clang of the gate being closed and the click, click of her pointy shoes resuming.
I had two plans. The second one was filled with risk, so I hoped the first one worked.
I had a glimpse of candlelight through the bars and Meg put something down outside my cell, unlocked the door and opened it. It was a tray with two bowls of steaming soup and two spoons.
'I've thought of something, Meg' I said, trying my first plan, which was to win her round with words. 'Something that could make things a lot better for both of us. Why don't you give me the run of the house? I could make the fires and bring in the water. I could help a lot. What will you do when Shanks delivers the groceries? If you answer the door, he'll know you're free. But if I answer he'll never guess. And if anyone comes on spooks' business I could just say that he's still ill. If you had me to answer the door, it would be a long time before anybody knew you were free. You'd have plenty of time to decide what to do about Mr Gregory'
Meg smiled. 'Take your soup, boy.'
I bent down, lifted the bowl from the tray and helped myself to one of the spoons. When I stood upright, Meg waved me back and started to pull the cell door shut.
'A good try, boy,' she said, 'but how long would it be before you took advantage and tried to free your master? Not long, I'll bet!'
Meg locked the door. My first plan had failed already. I'd no choice now but to try the second. I put my bowl of soup on the floor and pulled my key from my pocket. I could hear Meg already turning her own key in the lock of the Spook's cell. I waited, taking a chance, hoping against hope.
I was right! She went straight into the Spook's cell. I'd guessed that he might be too weak or groggy to be able to stand and come to the door. She might even be going to feed him herself. So, wasting no time, I unlocked my own door, pushed it carefully open and stepped outside. Mercifully it didn't stick and make a noise this time.
I'd thought everything through carefully, weighing all the risks in my mind. One option would have been to go straight into the Spook's cell and try to deal with Meg. Under normal circumstances, together, my master and I might have been a match for her, but I suspected that the Spook would be too weak to help. And we had nothing to fight her with: no rowan staff and no chain.
So I'd decided to go and get the silver chain from my bag in the study and try to bind Meg. To achieve that, I was counting on two things. One was that the feral lamia wouldn't scamper up the steps and catch me before I got through the iron gate. The second was that Meg hadn't locked the gate after her. That's why I'd been concentrating hard. The gate had clanged and the heels had started clicking downwards almost immediately afterwards. She hadn't had time to lock it. Or at least, I didn't think so!
I tiptoed at first, just one step up at a time, and kept glancing back over my shoulder: at the cell, to see if Meg was coming out; then at the corner of the steps to see if feral Marcia was after me. I was hoping that she was still too full after her morning meal. Or that she wouldn't come up from the cellar while Meg was there. Perhaps she was afraid of her sister. She'd certainly gone back down the steps at Meg's command.