Miss Smith turned to her cousin. 'Eileen - I think the holiday's over.'
Eileen was right about the shock. May maintained her unnatural poise until after they had taken her to her cottage and fetched the neighbour she asked for, a motherly woman who seemed reassuringly capable. Then, clinging to her, May screamed and screamed and went on screaming. It was a heavily sedated wife they handed over to Jimmy Groombridge, hastily summoned by phone from his work in Ipswich.
Jimmy, though white with rage, was collected enough to be grateful for Eileen's professional presence, especially as the village doctor was still out on his rounds. Eileen guessed that the very fact of May's collapse helped him to keep his head for both of them.
Eileen offered to stay till the doctor came and they were glad to have her; Jimmy was probably as frightened as he was angry, because he pressed Eileen for full details of May's condition. Eileen gave them, adding the warning that the contraceptive douche she had administered would have been too late to be more than a hope. Fortunately Jimmy was able to reinforce the hope with a precise knowledge of May's menstrual cycle and Eileen confirmed that the time was 'safe' in theory at least.
With Jimmy back, May rallied, and drugged though she was she would not rest till she had told him the whole story. Eileen
was puzzled by the purposefulne
ss of the telling; it seemed more than the natural urge many wives would have felt in the circumstances - more as though May knew her husband needed the facts for action. It troubled Eileen, especially when May described the policeman's deliberate callousness amounting to complicity. She wondered if Jimmy - who was a big man - would rush up to the policeman's house and exact revenge, which would be understandable but would only land him in prison when his wife needed him most. But Jimmy merely went on listening and holding May's hand, though his other fist clenched till the knuckles cracked.
May had barely finished when the doctor arrived. He examined her, thanked Eileen and approved her treatment, and promised to look in again later in the evening about nine o'clock. He was obviously a friend, and Eileen wondered if he, too, was a witch; she could not help noticing that he never mentioned the police, not even to ask if they had been informed. Witch or not, he must know the local situation - and it seemed that May had not been exaggerating.
After the doctor had left, May asked slowly but clearly: 'Eileen - Angela - you've been right good, an' I'm grateful. Would you do just one other thing - please?'
They both said 'Of course'.
May went on: 'Just sit with me for an hour or two. Jimmy an' our friends, they got a job to do.'
They looked at Jimmy, surprised, and Eileen asked: 'You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean, of course we'll stay, if May wants - but it's
you
May will be needing over the next days and weeks, and you wouldn't be much help to her in jail would you?'
Jimmy looked her in the eyes and told her: 'I know that, don't you fret. The job's right there beyond that wall, in the next cottage. You need me, you bang twice on the wall, an' I'll be here in no time. But don't you bang unless that's real urgent. That job shouldn't rightly be disturbed in the middle, see?'
Eileen didn't see but she caught May's pleading look and nodded to Jimmy. Jimmy leaned over and kissed his wife, taking her face in both his large hands. Then he said, 'Thank you both,' and was gone. '
Over the next twenty minutes they saw, through the window, at least a dozen men and women arrive at the next-door cottage-May appeared
to be' asleep, so they could do
nothing but wait and wonder. No more people came next door and for a while there was silence. Then their ears picked up what sounded like a low, rhythmic murmur from a number of voices, more like a vocal drum-beat than a chant. After a gradual crescendo, it stopped dead; they thought they could hear movements and the clink of metal against metal; then again silence.
May opened her eyes and smiled. 'He'll be back now.'
Miss Smith asked, 'How do you know?', but May did not answer.
A minute later Jimmy walked in and said pleasantly: 'I reckon you'd like something to eat now, wouldn't you? Mrs Wainwright next door, she's cooking for all of us. Half an hour, she says. How'd you like to try May's elderberry wine, while you're waiting? That's middlin' good.'
While they drank May's elderberry which Miss Smith pronounced more than middling good, Jimmy apologized for not having spare beds but said they were welcome to put their caravan in the field on the other side of the cottage as it was getting a bit late for them to move on tonight.
May had brightened a lot and even joked about not being allowed wine on top of the sedatives she'd had. By the time Mrs Wainwright produced her substantial meal, they were chatting happily about safe subjects - Miss Smith in particular enjoying herself exchanging country lore with Jimmy.
It was nearly ten before the doctor came back.
'Sorry I was held up,' he said as he timed May's pulse. 'I got called to the sergeant's house - you know, the new fellow. Heart attack. No apparent cause - he was sitting down watching telly at the time. I had to get an ambulance to whip him off to Ipswich General. Reckon
he
won't be back on duty f
or a month or two at least - an
d then they'll probably give him a desk job.
...
Well, young lady, I'm very pleased with you. Picking up nicely. What you need now's a good night's sleep and I'll be round to see you in the morning. Here's some calamine for that sunburn and a couple of knock-me-out pills to take when you're ready to settle down.'
On the way out, he turned and said casually: 'I wonder if they'll send old Sergeant Wells back? Everyone was sorry to sec him go. Knew our ways, that man did.'
When he had gone, Jimmy and May gave each other a secret smile. Eileen and Miss Smith said nothing because neither of them knew what to say.
Next morning was a Saturday, so Jimmy was off work without having to ask for it. The doctor, though still pleased with May, told her to stay in bed, so Miss Smith and Eileen said good-bye to her indoors.
As Jimmy walked with them to the caravan, Eileen asked suddenly: 'Jimmy, do you trust me?'
Jimmy grinned. 'That's a damn fool question after all you done for May.'
'Right then, listen to me. If the earthquakes come back, watch out for a kind of mist or Dust that comes up out of cracks in the ground. It's absolutely deadly. But you can protect yourself by breathing through gauze soaked in vinegar, while the Dust's visible and for at least a couple of hours afterwards.
Please
believe that I know what I'm talking about. See that everyone you care for has gauze and vinegar handy
from now
on.
But don't say who told you.'
'You haven't told many people about it, have you?' Jimmy asked, looking at her shrewdly.
'No. I worked for a while, after the Midsummer quakes, at a place where they were investigating the Dust, and that was about the only thing they'd found out about it by the time I left. And every time I tell someone, I'm leaving" a clue which could put
them
on my trail.'
'Then I
am
grateful. We'll remember.'
They climbed in, waved to him, and set off for the Midlands.
9
Moira jumped involuntarily when the knock on the front door came just before midnight on 2 August. Dan went to the bay window and peered through a chink in the curtains.
'It's
all right, love. It's John Hasse
ll and Karen.'
Moira
let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the hall with Dan to welcome them. The last few days had tautened her nerves. Since they were a small coven, compact in their three adjoining houses and not publicly active, they had not so far been molested at home. This was a quiet, mainly middle-class area of Staines which might be expected to lag behind less inhibited places in open violence and they had always got on well with most of their immediate neighbours. But the signs were already there, in the eyes that were beginning to avoid theirs and in the whisperings just out of earshot. Besides, it was clear from their phone talks with other witches (the phone hardly stopped ringing these days) that the Crusaders were becoming more methodical in their intimidation, as though they were building up local lists and working their way through them. Their commonest tactic so far was the brick through the window, though
there had been many street attacks on individuals, several of them brutal and none of them reaching the newspapers or, apparently, leading to a
rrests; and one house in Ketter
ing and at least four cars had been burned.
One policeman friend who was himself a witch had, riskily, phoned Moira and told her what he knew was happening in the Metropolitan force at least. All ranks had been told, though only verbally, 'not to interfere if possible in sectarian disputes', as the formula went. It had soon become clear that 'if possible' meant in practice 'except where a witch can plausibly be charged with an offence' and that any arrest of Crusaders would be frowned on. The order had aroused a good deal of resentment among the more conscientious officers but any who tried to ignore it found themselves promptly disciplined, directly or indirectly. At one police station in Lambeth everyone from the superintendent downwards had stood together on the issue and for a few days had been able to keep the local Crusaders under control. Within a week, all of them down to the rank of sergeant had been transferred el
sewhere and the station restaff
ed under a notorious martinet.
This call, disturbing as it was, had had the effect of strengthening Dan and Moira in their determination. They had had their moments of doubt as they checked and re-checked their vehicle stores; sometimes they had wondered what on earth they were doing, contemplating the abandonment of homes and jobs in the face of what might be a passing hysteria. But their instincts told them the hysteria was not passing but planned, and their police friend's call had confirmed it. As for jobs - Rosemary's had already gone, Dan's was becoming impossible, and even Greg's employer at the service station was beginning to talk vaguely of 'reorganization'. Dan, aware of his partner Steve's growing worry and embarrassment, had openly raised the question of Steve buying him out. Steve's rejection of the idea had been hasty and not very coherent and Dan was sure it could not last. They had been friends for a long time but the business was patently suffering from Dan's known presence. It had reached the stage now where their typist was bringing him paperwork to do at home and even this was becoming increasingly nominal.
And beneath all this, there was the certainty - indefinable but growing - that the Midsummer earth tremors were only a curtain-raiser. No, they were right to prepare for flight and they knew it. They found themselves spending more and more time studying maps.
They were both glad and shocked to sec John. They had not met him since the inquest, and although they had expected to find him badly hit by Joy's death, they found the contrast between the bitterness in his eyes and his unnaturally controlled voice disturbing. In the hall, he received Moira's kiss and Dan's handshake with a flash of the old warmth but it was quickly veiled.
They kissed Karen too, as was Wiccan custom, and Moira led them into the sitting-room while Dan went to fetch Greg, Rosemary and Sally, who were all still up.
'When did they let you out, John?'
'This morning. Mary Andrews and Nigel Pickering were in the same nick and we were all brought in front of the bench together at ten o'clock. We expected to get a chance to protest about being arrested and to plead our case, but all we got was a lecture from the beak - a warning to behave ourselves and give no trouble. Then he dismissed us before we could even open our mouths.'
'Yes,' Moira said, 'it seems to have been the same all over. One or two of the others have phoned. Looks like the drill was cut and dried.'
'What else did you expect?' Karen asked.
'Oh, I don't know - a bit of local variation, I suppose. Magistrates have the reputation of being pretty individual.'
Karen said 'Huh!' and at that point the others came in. Greetings exchanged, they all sat d
own and looked at John expectantl
y; he had the air of one about to deliver a statement.
'You all know, I suppose, that Karen has taken over as High Priestess,' he told them almost stiffly. 'Sonia Forde has been appointed Maiden in her place.'
'Good choice,' Moira said, looking at Karen with deliberate friendliness. 'Sonia should be a big help to you.' She had known Joy's uneasiness about Karen and had shared it, but the poor girl's in a difficult situation, she told herself, arid it's up to me to show support - for John's sake if nothing else.