The Shade of Hettie Daynes

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Authors: Robert Swindells
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in danger? It isn’t fair, me and the lads were looking forward to watching the fireworks.’
    The councillor’s features reddened. ‘The
lads
can please themselves,’ he spluttered. ‘They don’t live under my roof, eat my food. You
do
. Which means you do
exactly
as I tell you at all times. Is that clear?’
    ‘Y–yes, Dad.’ Carl hated looking a prat in front of his friends, but he’d always been scared of his father. He looked at Shaun and Nigel. ‘Coming?’
    Shaun shuffled his feet, looked at the ground. ‘No , I reckon I’ll stick around, mate, if that’s all right.’
    Nigel nodded. ‘Yeah, me too. We’ll see you later, eh?’
    ‘Thanks a bunch,’ snarled Carl. ‘Good to have mates you can count on.’ He turned his back on the fire, slunk away. It’d be woe betide any kid he found near Wilton Water tonight.

THIRTY-EIGHT
    ‘WH . . . WHO IS it?’ Bethan moved closer to her brother.
    ‘Dunno, Sis. Get ready to run.’
    Rob snorted. ‘In
that
mud? No chance.’
    ‘It’s a man with glasses,’ whispered Alison.
    Harry glanced at her. ‘Glasses – you
sure
?’ There was comfort in glasses; ghosts and monsters don’t wear them.
    Alison nodded. ‘Look.’
    The man came out of the trees. Fireglow reflected in the round lenses of his spectacles.
    Rob laughed with relief. ‘It’s Steve,’ he said. ‘Steve Wood.’ He called out. ‘It’s OK, Mister Wood , it’s only us. We talked here a while back.’
    The historian approached. He wasn’t smiling. ‘I know,’ he growled, ‘but that was tea time. You kids shouldn’t be here this late – what if I’d been a serial killer or something? What’re you doing, anyway?’
    ‘We came to check out the mill,’ said Harry. ‘The one you told us about.’
    Wood nodded. ‘Hopwood Mill. It’s just along there, but it’s too dark to see much, and it’s highly dangerous to walk on that reservoir bed as you’ve just done. It drops off steeply into deep water.’
    ‘OK,’ said Rob. ‘We get the message, but we might as well have a quick look now we’re here.’
    The historian sighed. ‘It’s easier to get in and out at the other end. I’ll show you. We pass the mill on the way.’
    They followed Steve along the footpath. Flashes lit the sky.
    Steve stopped, pointed. ‘There, see?’
    They peered across the mud, saw lengths of crumbled wall, none more than a metre high.
    ‘Is that
it
?’ asked Harry. ‘No chimney, no roofs?’
    Wood chuckled. ‘They didn’t leave the chimney up, lad, they re-used the stone. Took the roofs off as well. Yorkshire stone, expensive. It’s in the village, I’ll show you sometime. Come on.’
    ‘Can’t we just go down for a minute?’ asked Bethan.
    Steve shook his head. ‘No way, young lady. I told you, it’s dangerous. Come back in daylight if you can dodge the workmen, but don’t come by yourself. And
don’t
tell anybody I suggested it or you’ll get me shot.’
    At the west end of the reservoir was the dam wall, the overflow, the diggers and the dumpsters. This was where the work went on by day. There was a fence across the footpath, but this one was movable because the workmen had to come and go. Steve Wood lifted the tubular steel pole and bent one end of the fencing inward to make a narrow gap between it and the boundary wall. He ushered them through and swung the pole back into position.
    ‘Right,’ he said, sternly. ‘Off to the bonfire now, and remember what I said. No more night expeditions, OK?’
    Rob nodded for all of them. ‘OK, Mister Wood. Daylight only, and
you
never said we could.’ He grinned. ‘In fact we’ve never heard of you.’
    Steve smiled and nodded. ‘That’s about right, lad. G’night.’

THIRTY-NINE
    CARL KICKED A pebble off the bank, watched it plop in the mud. He had on his brand new Nikes.
There’s no way I’m wading through that in these
.
    Trouble was, there were footprints. Loads of them. They showed up every time a firework exploded. It looked

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