Read Online Cherringham--The Curse of Mabb's Farm by Matthew Costello - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew Costello
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the door and waited, thinking, more than anything else, worrying.
Stepping outside, the wind began ripping at the umbrellas. Even with the dome of each umbrella facing directly into the wind, it seemed like the struts would soon give way.
“Nasty night,” he said.
Pointing out the obvious.
They got soaked even as they walked the few steps to the stump of the Wicker Man.
A quick look, then inside, Jack thought.
A line reverberated.
‘ T’isn’t a night fit for man and beast.’
As they reached the arm, that line seemed more than apt.
Sarah remained standing, letting Jack bend over to look at the thing in the Wicker Man’s brambly hand.
“It’s a bird,’ Jack said. “Hard to say what it is, it’s small though, a raven maybe? Or one of those magpies.” He took a breath, knowing that both of them had to be thinking the same thing.
Who had put the arm there, and who had gone to the trouble of placing a dead bird in its grasp?
Creepy didn’t quite capture it.
“Let’s go back inside,” Sarah said over the rat-a-tat of the rain on the umbrellas.
They sat at the kitchen table. Sarah had grabbed two towels so they could dry off. Daniel and Chloe surfaced but they were used to Mum and her detective friend, so no awkward questions were asked.
Later Sarah would go out, when the rain eased, dispose of the thing.
She had brought out a half-full bottle of Glenmorangie, and two tumblers.
“Ice?” she said, “Water? Sorry, I don’t have the fixings for a martini. Promise to rectify that.”
Jack smiled as she poured him a couple of fingers. Having him here made things feel a lot better, though she was still rattled: someone had invaded her space and marked it with a sinister message.
“Hey, I’d have to be some kind of idiot to complain about a drop of one very fine single-malt. This — neat — will do fine.”
She smiled and poured herself half as much.
“So what do you make of that?”
She knew him well enough by now to know that, when he was quiet, it was because he was mulling things over. He still radiated strength and concern, but he was silent, like he’d gone somewhere dark and deep.
He took another sip.
“Guess you’d have to say, it’s a kind of warning.”
“To me? Why warn me? What have I done?”
Jack smiled as if he had heard similar protestations before — which she knew he most certainly had.
“Okay, look at it this way, Sarah. We know that there is no Curse. Someone is terrifying that poor couple, for reasons unknown, and now you’re trying to help them work out what’s going on.”
Sarah nodded.
“In fact, I probably have the other arm waiting on my boat somewhere. Though Riley would do a good job of chasing off anyone with that idea. Reminds me — you should get a dog.”
“That’s exactly what the kids say. I’ve got enough to do, thank you very much.”
He grinned at that. “Man and woman’s best friend. And if you plan on sticking with our amateur detective work, it could be useful to have one. Nothing like loud barks from a really large dog to scare people away.”
“I’ll consider it. So that out there, it’s a warning? And the bird?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that. Does it have some significance, a dead raven, the Wicker Man … or is it just more mixed up mumbo-jumbo?”
“I don’t know but either way, the message is clear.”
“I agree. ‘Stay out of this.’ Which, I can guess—”
“—I’m not going to do.”
“Now how did I know that’s exactly what you’d say?”
He told her about his pub chat and she described her not-too-friendly encounter with Charlie.
“Maybe this means we’re onto something?”
“Not sure about that. We have Tamara testifying to the work of evil forces, and of course Tom Hodge and Phil Nailor both would have it in for Charlie.”
“And there is the odd fact that neither Charlie or Caitlin seem to want any real help at all.”
“Right. And yet Charlie really is scared. I’ve seen
Stepping outside, the wind began ripping at the umbrellas. Even with the dome of each umbrella facing directly into the wind, it seemed like the struts would soon give way.
“Nasty night,” he said.
Pointing out the obvious.
They got soaked even as they walked the few steps to the stump of the Wicker Man.
A quick look, then inside, Jack thought.
A line reverberated.
‘ T’isn’t a night fit for man and beast.’
As they reached the arm, that line seemed more than apt.
Sarah remained standing, letting Jack bend over to look at the thing in the Wicker Man’s brambly hand.
“It’s a bird,’ Jack said. “Hard to say what it is, it’s small though, a raven maybe? Or one of those magpies.” He took a breath, knowing that both of them had to be thinking the same thing.
Who had put the arm there, and who had gone to the trouble of placing a dead bird in its grasp?
Creepy didn’t quite capture it.
“Let’s go back inside,” Sarah said over the rat-a-tat of the rain on the umbrellas.
They sat at the kitchen table. Sarah had grabbed two towels so they could dry off. Daniel and Chloe surfaced but they were used to Mum and her detective friend, so no awkward questions were asked.
Later Sarah would go out, when the rain eased, dispose of the thing.
She had brought out a half-full bottle of Glenmorangie, and two tumblers.
“Ice?” she said, “Water? Sorry, I don’t have the fixings for a martini. Promise to rectify that.”
Jack smiled as she poured him a couple of fingers. Having him here made things feel a lot better, though she was still rattled: someone had invaded her space and marked it with a sinister message.
“Hey, I’d have to be some kind of idiot to complain about a drop of one very fine single-malt. This — neat — will do fine.”
She smiled and poured herself half as much.
“So what do you make of that?”
She knew him well enough by now to know that, when he was quiet, it was because he was mulling things over. He still radiated strength and concern, but he was silent, like he’d gone somewhere dark and deep.
He took another sip.
“Guess you’d have to say, it’s a kind of warning.”
“To me? Why warn me? What have I done?”
Jack smiled as if he had heard similar protestations before — which she knew he most certainly had.
“Okay, look at it this way, Sarah. We know that there is no Curse. Someone is terrifying that poor couple, for reasons unknown, and now you’re trying to help them work out what’s going on.”
Sarah nodded.
“In fact, I probably have the other arm waiting on my boat somewhere. Though Riley would do a good job of chasing off anyone with that idea. Reminds me — you should get a dog.”
“That’s exactly what the kids say. I’ve got enough to do, thank you very much.”
He grinned at that. “Man and woman’s best friend. And if you plan on sticking with our amateur detective work, it could be useful to have one. Nothing like loud barks from a really large dog to scare people away.”
“I’ll consider it. So that out there, it’s a warning? And the bird?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that. Does it have some significance, a dead raven, the Wicker Man … or is it just more mixed up mumbo-jumbo?”
“I don’t know but either way, the message is clear.”
“I agree. ‘Stay out of this.’ Which, I can guess—”
“—I’m not going to do.”
“Now how did I know that’s exactly what you’d say?”
He told her about his pub chat and she described her not-too-friendly encounter with Charlie.
“Maybe this means we’re onto something?”
“Not sure about that. We have Tamara testifying to the work of evil forces, and of course Tom Hodge and Phil Nailor both would have it in for Charlie.”
“And there is the odd fact that neither Charlie or Caitlin seem to want any real help at all.”
“Right. And yet Charlie really is scared. I’ve seen
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