Read Online Petronella & the Trogot by Cheryl Bentley - Free Book Online

insults that she could only stand there in the biscuit aisle with her mouth wide open. Now what need was there to be so nasty. If Mrs Bellamy wouldn’t speak to Petronella, maybe The Axeman would. There was only one way. She needed to sneak into Mrs Bellamy’s house when both she and her husband were out.
    Petronella stood behind Mrs Bellamy at the checkout. After Petronella had paid for the biscuits, she ran outside to see where Mrs Bellamy was going. Just in time - Petronella saw Mrs Bellamy disappear into the local tearoom. No doubt to spend the morning there with other gossiping villagers. A fine opportunity for Petronella to go and see The Axeman. She really had to be quick about flashing the skull at him and getting such a dangerous man back buried in that field before he harmed the people of Fort Willow. True, Mrs Bellamy didn’t deserve such kindness. Petronella wished she could let The Axeman stay in the house. But she also had to think of the safety of the other villagers.
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Chapter 20
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    Nobody seemed to be in. Petronella rang the ding-dong-merrily-on-high doorbell. She pressed the botton again and got the same sing-song. No, The Axeman must be out. Then one of the curtains on the ground-floor twitched a little. Petronella saw this big head, with a robin-hood-like hat on it and wide shoulders covered in green felt. He’d changed out of his axeman clothes. That’s him for sure, thought Petronella. Waving to him she shouted: “Open the door. I need to speak to you.” The head was no longer there. Had it made its way down the corridor to open the front door?
    After what seemed like a very long time indeed, Petronella heard The Axeman trying to unlock the door. And what a clatter he was making - he kept locking it and unlocking it. But he never managed to pull the door open when it was unlocked. Finally, he got it right and the door opened.
    â€œI be nat used to these contraptions,” The Axeman said, as he laid eyes on Petronella. “God be with ye, lady. I never seeth such an ugly looking wench as ye,” he said, jumping a step back out of fright. By now, Petronella was used to comments like this and took no notice.
    â€œCometh in, lady,” The Axeman said, showing Petronella into the living-room. “I be on myn own. Mrs Bellamy hath gone out buying.”
    â€œYes, I know. I met her at the supermarket. I knew you’d be alone here, so I came to have a chat with you.”
    Petronella looked at the axe on Mrs Bellamy’s flowered sofa.
    â€œDoth nat worry, lady. I hath never used that axe. It be just for show. I were Lord Fortesque’s soldier. I were supposed to killeth folk, but I never doth that. I promise ye. Ye see, I hath always been too kind for that. I pretendeth to axeth folk. Other soldiers, they really doth killeth villagers, mind. But nat me. I used to goeth round pretending. I sayeth I killeth ten peasants today. Lord Fortesque’s soldiers sayeth to me ‘Where be the bodies?’ I hath no bodies. Then the soldiers, they killeth me when they findeth out I were fibbing.”
    â€œOh,” said Petronella, “I’m very sorry to hear that you were killed. But I’m very happy that you didn’t kill others. I wouldn’t like to be sitting next to a murderer.”
    â€œI be no murderer, lady. I swear it on myn pigs.”
    â€œYour pigs! What pigs?”
    â€œMyn pigs, lady. You knoweth what pigs be, surely? Pink they be and fat.”
    â€œYes, I know what pigs are, you nincompoop.”
    â€œI be no nincompoop, lady. I be a pig-farmer. Happy I be until Lord Fortesque and his soldiers maketh me joineth them. A good man I be. I cryeth when those soldiers killeth our poor folk. I keepeth pigs here in this very spot. Mind ye, looketh at the place now. How can anyone keepeth a garden only for decoration?”
    He turned his head towards the French-windows and looked out at the neatly-trimmed lawn and