Read Online Haunted Fields by Dan Moore - Free Book Online

Every inch of wall space seemed to have been put to use, though by the thick dust covering many of these products, he guessed a large number were well past their sell by date. He spotted dozens of jars filled with every sweet imaginable on the shelves directly behind Dorothy.
    â€˜Your step-mother also had a sweet tooth.’
    The people in this village really do know everything, Freddie thought. ‘Who, Rhona? You remember her well, then?’ he asked, eyeing up a jar of toffees over Dorothy’s left shoulder. ‘She’s hardly Ravenby’s favourite daughter.’
    â€˜She was a kind girl, always remembering her manners.’
    â€˜We are talking about the same Rhona, right? R – H – O – N – A! Rhona McCall?’
    â€˜I’m sure she’s made a good moth–’
    â€˜â€“step-mum!’
    He shuffled across the shop floor to the counter, Dorothy turning to retrieve the jar of toffees he’d been eyeing up. He watched as she placed the jar next to an old-fashioned till bearing giant levers. He’d never seen anything like it. Did the grotesque contraption run on coal? He dug around in his pocket for his wallet. He’d need some cash. He doubted Dorothy did chip and pin.
    â€˜How many would you like, young man?’
    â€˜Enough to make me feel sick.’
    Dorothy hummed tunelessly, scooping toffees into a brown paper bag.
    â€˜The last time Rhona bought sweets from this shop has stuck in my memory,’ said Dorothy, placing the bag on a set of brass scales. ‘Clear as day.’
    Great! thought Freddie. Yet more reminiscing! He’d had enough of it with Elizabeth. Rhona this! Rhona that! None of them knew her like he did, not the Rhona of late anyway. The Rhona he’d been hearing all about seemed a different person entirely. What had gone wrong in the intervening years?
    â€˜It was such a sad, sad day…’
    â€˜I’m sorry?’
    He leaned in, suddenly interested. But Dorothy had either not noticed his reaction or was taking her time on purpose, desperate to draw him in to a story she’d no doubt told a hundred times. She took care in folding the paper bag.
    â€˜We’ll call it three pounds.’
    He pulled out a fiver and slapped it down on the counter.
    â€˜Which day was this?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ she said, pulling on a lever, the till springing open. ‘It was a hot summer’s day. Harvest was in full swing. A group of children came in to buy drinks and sweets: Rhona and Elizabeth, Ursula Hawkins and Noel Davidson – there must have been twenty of them altogether. Rhona would have been about your age.’
    â€˜That must have been around the time of the acc–’ but he stopped himself in time. He didn’t want to offend Dorothy.
    She handed him his change.
    â€˜They left,’ she continued, ‘and returned three hours later. Well, all except Rhona, Elizabeth, Ursula, and Noel.’
    â€˜Perhaps they went home?’
    He glanced into the eyes behind the glasses. Tears formed, cascading along the canal-like wrinkles etched into her cheeks. She tried to speak, emitting a tiny croak. It took her a few moments to compose herself, to muster the strength required to finish the tale.
    â€˜An hour later Noel– Noel was dead.’

8
    He’d assumed Noel had been alone when the combine had pounced. The possibility that others had witnessed the event sent shivers running through his body. How grim.
    â€˜That day seems to have had a big effect on this village,’ he said, opening the bag of toffees. He tilted the bag towards Dorothy, who’d taken her glasses off, cleaning them on her sleeve. ‘Would you like one?’
    â€˜So very kind of you,’ she said, sniffing. ‘But I’ll stick to my humbugs.’
    So, what about Rhona? Freddie wondered. It seemed he’d learnt more about his step-mum since arriving in the country than he ever had living