Tanners Dell: Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror (19 page)

BOOK: Tanners Dell: Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror
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Chapter Twenty-Five

 

For a moment Becky and Toby sat in the car staring at the tarmac.
Did that really just happen?

To their right stood a small, stone church, its graveyard somewhat neglected, with overgrown grass and wind-beaten headstones devoid of flowers. There were no posters or service announcements on the noticeboard and weeds sprouted through the cracked path.

“Doesn’t look particularly well attended, does it?” Toby observed.

Becky squinted up at the spire. “It’s quite old – Norman, I’d say with that square tower.”

“I don’t know much about churches to be honest.”

“I’ve started to find them fascinating. Oh look…there’s a boy standing there.”

They both looked over to where a young boy had appeared among the older graves towards the back. “He doesn’t look more than about eight or nine,” said Becky. “Bit too young to be wandering around on his own, wouldn’t you say?”

“I think there’s something wrong with his eyes.”

He’d started to walk towards them and they both realised at the same time that he was blind, as he tap-tap-tapped his way down the church path, through the lych-gate and out onto the lane.

“I wonder why Cora changed her mind like that?” Toby said, after the child had disappeared from view.

“Very peculiar,” Becky agreed. “She was shit-scared though, wasn’t she? Do you reckon she’s terrified of her own son?”

“I’d say that’s highly likely.”

Becky turned the key over and over in her hands. “And that’s what’s kept her silent all these years, I suppose. I’m guessing this spare key was her insurance policy.”

“She should’ve legged it and taken her kids.”

“I agree. But then there’s the black witchcraft, Toby. You haven’t come across it yet, have you?”

“That’s what Jes were telling me about last night. I’m still having difficulty with it… I mean, I think Jes must’ve been poisoned or drugged or summat -–there’s an explanation for everything in the end.”

Becky smiled sadly. “I wish there was. Anyway – big brave soldier – you go to that black mass at 3am on your own then, because you might be alright with it but I’m telling you it scares the crap out of me.”

Toby sighed heavily. “Trouble is, all our evidence put together is only hearsay unless Callum wakes up and testifies; and even that’s tenuous if the Deans employ a good lawyer. They’ve got three professionals already to discredit everything we say; and that’s if it ever got as far as court, which I doubt because I’m guessing this village is in lockdown – they’re all petrified of the Deans.”

“There’s no choice but to catch them in the act, then, is there? Do you think you could trust Sid Hall with this?”

“Possibly.” He looked thoughtful before adding, “And a few others.”

“Oh? You’ll have to be one hundred percent on that.”

He smiled tightly. “I am.”

“Okay, well…3am on New Year’s Day it is, then. How shall we play it? There’s isn’t a lot of time.”

“That’s probably for the best. Let me ring you when I’ve thought it through. Meanwhile, it’d be an idea to find out exactly where this mill is. You up for a quick scout round?”

“Okay.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I’ll have to get back to the DRI soon, though – would you give me a lift please or I’ll be really late?”

“Aye, course I will.” He started up the engine and began to turn the car round. “Best we park out of sight – bit further down under the trees.”

 

***

 

The River Whisper gurgled softly, lapping and swilling at the bank where debris and branches caught and snagged its flow.

              They tramped along the path in silence.

After about ten minutes, Becky said, “There should be a track up towards the mill soon. Up through the woods?”

“I haven’t seen one - it’s just solid thicket. Let’s keep walking.”

Eventually the unmistakeable roar of fresh water bounding over rocks could be heard. “Is that a waterfall?” Becky asked.

“Sound like it. Let’s keep going ’til we get to it and work upstream from there.”

“Okay, it’s odd there hasn’t been a track up from here, though. We’ll have to find another way in from the village end, I suppose.”

“Yes, we need more than one exit, for sure.”

“It’s bloody freezing. I wish I’d brought gloves.”

Then all at once a weir was in front of them, with hundreds of gallons of fresh water racing into the river below; the bank alongside steep, muddy and covered in dead bracken and brambles.

“Up here,” said Toby. “Come on!”

“I wish I’d got my wellies as well,” Becky said, stumbling onto her hands and knees in the dark. “Aargh, we’re really not prepared for this, are we?”

“I was supposed to be going out for a pint later an’ all – me shoes are a right mess.”

For several minutes they climbed up the embankment, slipping on the mud and grasping at the undergrowth.

“It’s gone dark quickly, have you noticed?”

They stopped and took stock. Ahead was Tanners Dell, standing in a clearing of hazy moonlight. Surrounded by forest, the mill’s roof had partially caved in, ivy now pushing through it in twisted clumps; the stonework appeared luminescent, its windows sightless sockets; and against a deafening backdrop of pounding water the building exuded a preternatural stillness.

Toby swung round as if startled by someone behind.

“What’s the matter?”

In the twilight he looked ghostly white. “Nothing. Thought I felt a breath in the back of me neck.” He adjusted his collar. “Spooky place, eh?”

“We’re not going in, are we? I mean to try the key or anything?”

“No, not tonight. Come on, let’s go – this place is creeping me out. We just need to find a path to the road and get back to the car. Fuck it if anyone sees us.”

“No, don’t lose your nerve, Toby. We have to know where the paths and hiding places are, then go back the way we came. We can’t be seen.”

Neither spoke as they crept towards the mill and walked around it. By now the evening was as black as pitch and the lack of a torch was an obvious omission. On the north side a dense wall of forest barred the way, with the moors towering overhead. They skirted around the edge of the trees looking for an exit but there was nothing. “However did that poor gypsy girl escape from this?” Becky murmured.

“God knows.”

They worked over to the east side, eventually coming across a narrow track that forked in several directions. “You take that one and I’ll take this,” said Toby. “Let’s see where they go then backtrack. You’re right – we can’t afford to be seen. Sorry.”

“Okay.” It sounded like a plan but without a torch, and looking into the army of grey tree trunks, Becky wasn’t at all sure. She couldn’t put him down again, though. “Okay,” she repeated, more quietly now as she picked out a vague trail and tentatively started walking.

The silence was palpable, the path only as wide as one footstep, and the further into the woods she ventured the darker it became. Within seconds it was impossible to see the hands in front of her and she held them out like a blind man. Should she call out to Toby? Better not. Best to just keep going then backtrack exactly the way she came. The only sound now was the soft fall of her footsteps, the blackness thickening as it closed around her in a cloak. She couldn’t see a thing and panic stabbed in her chest. So what direction was this then? The path seemed to be tipping downhill now! Then all at once the trail ended, a holly bush bringing her up short. Right, so this led nowhere: time to head back. Turning around precisely one hundred and eighty degrees, she put one foot in front of the other with the intention of doing exactly that, only to find no track only thicket.

For a moment she stood as still as a hunted animal, wondering what to do next, when a breath of air blew into her neck.

Her heart rate sky-rocketed.

Staring into the black forest with her pulse thumping hard, she instinctively put out her hands for the nearest tree trunk, then with her back pressed to the bark she inched around its girth, hoping to see something, anything that would give direction – somewhere to run to. Or perhaps it would be best to lie low and hide? Or should she just yell for Toby and hang it who heard
? What to do? Oh what to do
? The darkness was unbelievable. She waited and listened, holding her breath. Was there ever a place so silent? There wasn’t a sound. No one was here. No one…maybe she’d imagined…

But then it came again – unmistakeable this time - a slight sigh.

She sank onto the dank earth, flattened so closely to the trunk it hurt.
Oh God, who was there? There was someone. Once could be imagination but twice… If only she could see
.
This was it, wasn’t it? Oh, she shouldn’t have come
… Her fingers scrabbled at the bark behind as if somehow she could escape that way, and that was when she felt it…a gap…a hole. Was it big enough to get into? She felt around inside with both hands now. No, but there was something in there…she pulled it out…a pair of shoes, or what had once been a pair of shoes. Now they were simply small flaps of mouldy leather. This had been someone’s hiding place!

“Becky!” someone hissed.

Toby…oh thank God!

Gradually her eyes adjusted to the movement of a figure emerging from the trees. “Over here,” she hissed back.

Toby slid down the tree next to her. “I could smell your perfume! Anyway, I found a path back to the village. It comes out just below the houses opposite the church.”

“How convenient.”

“What about this one?”

She showed him the shoes. “It doesn’t lead anywhere except here. It’s a hiding place – look someone left their shoes behind. ”

“Cora?”

“I’d bet on that. You definitely need her as a witness when all this is—”

A rustle of leaves caused them to clam up.

The silence was so intense, the dark so completely devoid of even a shadow to define it, that they reached for each other’s hand. Neither knew how long they waited for the feeling of menace to lift, but eventually a sliver of moonlight threw a shaft of light onto the grassed area in front of the mill. They had been within yards of it the whole time.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Toby, yanking her to her feet.

 

***

 

“I thought when you said, ‘Let’s go’, you meant we were getting the hell out of here. Come on – I don’t want to linger,” Becky whispered as they crept along the side of the mill by the brook.

“Shhh…keep down low. I’ve decided we may as well check this out cos I’m not coming back here on my own again.”

Becky’s nostrils flared and she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Never in all her life had she wanted to leave a place so badly. She almost danced on her feet like an impatient child while Toby tried the key in the door. “Doesn’t fit.”

“There isn’t any glass in the windows,” she pointed out. “Why would anyone need this key?”

The rush of water behind him almost drowned out his reply. “…must be inside…basement…cellar…?”

“Oh no! I thought you said…”

Toby grabbed hold of her hand and they walked round to the front where the moonlight was strongest. “I can get in through here,” he said, pointing to one of the lower windows. “I have to do a recce and see what this key’s for. Then we’ll go, I promise.”

“I’m scared.”

“I’ll be two minutes. Wait here in the shadows and try not to breathe.”

“Thanks. Well hurry up then. I mean it.”             

“Will you be okay?”

“No. You’d better be really, really quick.” She looked over at the woods. Apart from the roar of the tumbling brook the air was still and icy, and a few stars sparkled amid high clouds drifting across the moon. “It’s nearly a full moon,” she observed. There was no answer and she winged round just in time to see Toby’s feet disappearing into the mill.

She kept her back firmly to the wall, constantly scanning the immediate area, alert to the possibility that something horrible might emerge from that bank of black forest. From time to time the moonlight broke free of cloud, casting elongated shadows onto the grass.
Oh for God’s sake hurry up, Toby

It occurred to her to just run towards the woods and take the path Toby had taken, which led to the village lane, and leave him to it. No, she couldn’t.

Was that a voice?

She strained her ears against the backdrop of roaring water. A very faint cry was emanating from… she turned her head… from inside. Louder now, like a child sobbing. She held her breath.

“Becky!”

She physically jumped.

Toby grabbed her hand as he landed on the soil next to her. “Someone’s here – come on - run like ’ell.”

 

***

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Drummersgate

Wednesday evening

 

Celeste isn’t coming to see me again. Ever. They told me tonight she’d died but I had a feeling anyway, and I know that sounds funny, but I did. I swear. Two of them – Emma and Dr Airy – sat either side of me probably expecting a major kick off. What they don’t get is that it doesn’t matter because we’re spirits and these bodily shells are just that – mortal, ageing, and transitory. But then I’m a certified mad person, so what do I know?

I like this kind of day – slumping in front of the television in the day room with mad old Violet and silly Philly – it’s restful. Violet wears a flowery orange and yellow dress, which stretches skin tight over her massive stomach; her hair hangs in greasy, grey strands and her face is all red like it’s been boiled. She’s been in some sort of institution since she was thirteen because she started stabbing people to see what happened. Anyway, it’s okay as long as she doesn’t get a knife in her hand, not even to eat with – they give her a plastic spoon. And silly Philly chatters to herself like a little bird with fluttery wings for fingers. She hides things in drawers and scuttles round furtively as if she’s a secret agent, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone’s watching. It’s kind of funny to end up here with the mad, the bad and the dangerous because as far as I know I’ve never done anything mad or bad.

I can feel Celeste all around me. She has a brilliant warm light like an angel and I know she wants to go to a higher place, but she’ll stay with me for as long as she can. It’s hard to say how I know she’s here – maybe if I describe it as a feeling of comfort, a presence or strength that I didn’t have before. A faith! Yes, that’s it – a faith. The others inside are quieter too, not just taking over whenever they feel like it, but talking to each other when Dr Airy helps us. It stops us thinking about bad stuff and we know what the triggers are now, like being followed or the smell of wood-smoke or urine. Words too – like people saying they’ll pray for me or that I’m a good girl or stuff to do with… No, I’ve got to stop cos I feel a bit odd.

Focusing on the television now - what they’re saying - A home in the sun…

I’m doing this when his silhouette appears in the doorway. I never thought I’d see him again and suddenly I’m back there, floating under the surface of the water with his face rippling on the surface in the trees; great hands heaving beneath my shoulders with the fingers digging in and gasping lungsful of freezing air.

“Hello, Ruby,” he says.

“Hello, Jes.”

He sits next to me, glancing at me sideways a couple of times with a shy smile. “You took a bit of tracking down this time, I have to say.”

“Where did I go?”

He shrugs. “The usual. Only I didn’t get to you in time. That’s how you ended up here.” He looks around the room. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing though, eh? You’ve had some help, angel girl, and you look ok.”

“I’m clean and most of the time I know who I am, so yeah – I’m getting there. How about you? You clean?”

He shakes his head. “Never will be. Hey, I heard about your friend – Celeste, was it? I’m sorry.”

“‘They’ finished her off.”

A dark shadow passes behind his eyes. “Ruby, how much do you know about what’s still going on? Your nurse, Becky, sent someone to visit me recently and he told me you have a daughter.”

“Alice!”

“He said they’d do a satanic baptism and...”

Satanic
…I can feel my lip trembling. I’m falling backwards….

“Ruby, you’ve gone strange.” He’s got hold of my arms and he’s shouting for someone.

The next thing I know it’s dark and I’m lying on my bed.

“Jes?”

“He’s gone now,” says Emma. “You had a good chat with him, though. Well, Marie did. Shall I tell you what happened because he was very excited – wanted to ring someone called Toby straight away. I didn’t get it to be honest, but you probably will.”

“My head’s banging. I feel sick.”

“I’ll fetch you some paracetamol and then I’ll tell you what was said if you want? Are you up to it?”

I have to sit up and lean over the side of the bed: my entire skull is pounding. “Yeah, I’m up to it.”

 

***

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