The Shade of Hettie Daynes (13 page)

‘Well, Alison, these are human remains. What we
ought
to do is tell the police, in case it’s a murder or something. But . . .’ He pulled a face. ‘If we do, that’s the end of our adventure. They’ll put blue and white tape round and we’ll never get close again.’

Bethan shook her head. ‘Let’s not do that, Rob. Not just yet.’ She nodded towards the bones. ‘This might be the ghost.’

‘Well, yes it might,’ agreed Rob, ‘but we’re not whatsit – forensic scientists. What d’you think we can actually
do
?’

‘Well
I
don’t know,’ snapped Bethan. ‘Look for clues. Take snapshots. Anything but back off the first real adventure we’ve ever had.’

Rob nodded. ‘OK, Bethan, we’ll poke about a
bit
, and you can take some pics.’ His eyes swept the shoreline. ‘We better get a move on though – old Steve might show up anytime. And that reporter.’

FIFTY-ONE

THEY SQUATTED IN
a semicircle round the skeleton. ‘It’s old,’ said Harry. ‘You can tell by the colour of the bones – more browny green than white.’

Bethan nodded. ‘Yes, and there are no clothes. There’d be clothes if it was new. And shoes.’

Rob shook his head. ‘You can’t say that, Bethan. How do you know the guy wasn’t naked when he fell in the water?’

‘
She
,’ corrected Bethan. ‘We’re looking at the ghost of Wilton Water, couldn’t be anyone else.’

Rob snorted. ‘You can’t say
that
either. Ten people might have drowned in this reservoir over
the
years. And we don’t know the difference between a lady skeleton and a man skeleton.’

‘But it
is
old,’ insisted Harry. ‘And the police aren’t interested in bodies a hundred years old or more.’

‘How d’you know that?’ asked Alison.

Harry sighed. ‘Stands to reason, Aly. If someone murdered someone a hundred years ago, the murderer’s dead too by now, isn’t he? They can’t stick him in jail, so what’s the point?’

‘We should still report it,’ said Rob.

‘We will,’ agreed Bethan, ‘when we’ve had our adventure.’ She pulled the camera out of her jacket and aimed it at the skull. ‘Smile, please.’

Rob stood up, scanned the shore. ‘If we want to extend our so-called adventure past today,’ he growled, ‘we’ll need to hide the skeleton so nobody else finds it.’

Harry looked up at him. ‘How?’

‘Only one way,’ Rob replied. ‘Stack broken stones on top of it, make it look like just another heap. Better be quick too, ’cause I think someone’s coming.’

They scurried back and forth, carrying lumps of stone, stacking them like a cairn over the
bones
. They hadn’t quite finished when Rob said, ‘OK guys, that’ll have to do. It’s Steve, and he’s got his wellies on.’

They placed a few last stones, walking crouched so the ruins hid them, then emerged and trudged in a knot towards the shore, laughing and horsing around. Steve Wood watched them scramble up the bank.

‘You guys’re bright and early this morning,’ he greeted. ‘Anything interesting out there?’

‘Naw.’ Rob pulled a face. ‘Nothing but a bunch of old walls, Steve. We’re off to do something more exciting, like watching chicken parts thaw.’

FIFTY-TWO

IT STARTED TO
drizzle. They headed for the bus shelter. Harry chuckled. ‘Chicken parts. Where’d you get
that
one, Rob?’

Rob shrugged. ‘Dunno. TV, I suppose. We can find sticks, scrape the muck off our wellies.’

There were only two buses on Saturdays. The first had gone, the other wasn’t due till one o’clock. The shelter was unoccupied. They sat on the bench in their socks, working at their wellies.

‘Wonder what Steve’s doing,’ muttered Bethan. ‘I hope he doesn’t find our bones.’

Her brother grinned. ‘They’re not
our
bones, Sis – we’re still wearing those.’

Bethan scowled. ‘Nobody likes a smartass, Harry.’ She wasn’t going to admit it, but the ghost was haunting her again.
She’ll know, won’t she
, murmured a voice inside her head.
She’ll know we found her skeleton and didn’t report it because we want an adventure. And what does she want? A proper burial for one thing, I bet. Not someone with a camera going smile please, that’s for sure
. She shook her head.
I can’t believe I said that
.

‘He won’t hang about in this stuff.’ Rob nodded at the rain. ‘Probably home right now, working on his latest book.’

Harry pulled a face. ‘Hope you’re right, Rob, but he was a postman, remember – out in all weathers.’

Alison shrugged. ‘Nowt we can do about it anyway. At least we got pictures.’ She nudged her friend. ‘Let’s have a look at ’em, Bethan.’

Bethan produced the camera, handed it to Alison.

Alison selected quick view, peered at the tiny screen. ‘Hey, Beth, this is a good one,’ she
chirped
. She was about to scroll forward when a shadow fell across her. She looked up.

The man in the raincoat smiled. ‘What is it, Alison – another ghost?’

FIFTY-THREE

‘WHO’RE YOU?’ ASKED
Rob, before Alison could reply.

The man stuck a hand out. ‘Stan Fox. And you?’

Rob hesitated, then took the hand. ‘Rob Hattersley.’ He gestured to the others. ‘Alison Crabtree, Harry and Bethan Midgley. How do you know about the ghost?’

The man grinned. ‘Saw it on-screen at this young lady’s house.’ He nodded towards Alison.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Alison nodded. ‘Our Tony showed you. He wasn’t supposed to.’

Fox pulled a face. ‘Sorry. I promised not to
print
anything and I haven’t, but I must admit I’m curious.’

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ growled Rob.

Bethan thought this sounded rude, but the man only smiled. ‘Hasn’t killed the Fox though – not yet anyway.’ He nodded at the camera. ‘You going to let me see, Alison?’

Alison shrugged. ‘It’s Bethan’s camera, she took the pics. You better ask her.’

Fox looked at Bethan. ‘I bet you’re the one who snapped the ghost, aren’t you? It’s a terrific shot – near professional.’ He smiled. ‘But you don’t want to be famous, right?’

Bethan stared at her socks. ‘I don’t want my mum to know I went up the res at night,’ she mumbled. ‘That’s all.’

‘Aaah!’ Fox nodded. ‘I understand, Bethan, I had a mum like that.’ He smiled. ‘OK then, same promise – whatever’s on your camera, it won’t find its way into the
Echo
.’

‘And you won’t tell the police,’ added Bethan without looking up.

‘The police?’ said Fox, surprised. ‘You mean you’ve got something they’d be interested in?’

Bethan nodded. ‘Maybe, but this is our
adventure
, right? We found it and we’re investigating. We don’t want blue and white tape cutting us out. Grown-ups always cut kids out of interesting stuff.’

‘Yes, but still.’ Fox cleared his throat. ‘I think I’d better have a look, Alison, if you don’t mind.’

‘All right.’ She put the camera into the reporter’s hand. ‘But you promised, remember.’

FIFTY-FOUR

THE STONES THE
kids had heaped up looked just like the other heaps to them, but it didn’t fool Steve Wood. As Fox gaped at the camera image of the skeleton, the squatting historian was gaping at the bones themselves.

Nothing but a bunch of old walls, eh?
He chuckled.
Crafty young devils
. He gazed at the discoloured skull.
How long’s this been here, I wonder? Quite a while I’d say, though I’m no expert
. He pulled a face.
I know a lass who is, though. I wonder
 . . .

He stood up, frowning, trying to recall any report in recent years of an unexplained
disappearance
from the area. As a local historian he’d remember, but nothing came to mind.
Of course
 . . . He smiled faintly.
There was Hettie Daynes, but that was way back in 1885. Surely
 . . .

He squatted again, inserted a hand and drew out a short, thin bone. Like Stan Fox, Steve was a curious man. Questions were forming in his mind, one after another.
How long has this skeleton been here? Is it female? Could it possibly be that of Hettie Daynes? Was Hettie even a real person and if so, could I unearth any facts about her? If I give this bone to my friend at the university, will she be able to date the remains for me?

And most importantly, ought I even to be thinking about making a project out of this, instead of reporting the skeleton to the police?

Without noticing, he’d started to put the chunks of stone back where he found them. Like the children, he was keen to investigate the matter himself. Like them, he knew that once the authorities were told, he’d find himself shoved to one side.

Of course
, he reminded himself,
the kids might decide to report it – they found it after all
. He shrugged, stood up and began picking his way
towards
dry land, the bone in a pocket of his waxed jacket.

Hope I can persuade Avril to do the science
.

FIFTY-FIVE

FOX HANDED THE
camera back to Alison. ‘So, what do you kids intend to do about this?’