The Monsters of Rookhaven, стр. 31
Enoch stood there in his familiar pose, chin up, hands clasped behind his back. Odd, Eliza, Bertram, Dotty and Daisy all stood beside him.
‘A serious crime has been committed,’ said Enoch, his voice ringing out in the night.
Jem didn’t like his tone, and she liked the look of disdain in his eyes even less as he glanced at Tom.
‘Yes, yes it has, Uncle,’ said Mirabelle flatly.
‘Well then, something must be done about it,’ said Enoch, glaring at Jem. ‘A crime cannot go unpunished.’
‘No, a crime cannot go unpunished,’ agreed Mirabelle quietly.
Jem felt a fluttering sensation in her chest, and a growing sense of panic, as if the ground were sliding out from under her feet.
Enoch nodded. ‘Good, I see that you agree. Well then, with that in mind—’
‘What punishment is it you think you deserve, Uncle?’ said Mirabelle, a little louder now.
Jem sensed a ripple of unease in the dark. The members of the Family seemed somehow smaller to her now. She couldn’t help but think about the terrified cows they’d encountered earlier in the field.
Enoch gave a quick bark of laughter, but Mirabelle was not deterred. She kept looking at him, unblinking, as if waiting for something.
‘What if I just woke Piglet up again? How would that suit as punishment?’ Mirabelle said, looking pointedly at the small furry creature asleep in her arms.
Bertram was whimpering, and Jem was convinced the others had become even paler.
‘He is very dangerous, as you’ve often said. And now I know why,’ said Mirabelle through clenched teeth, her eyes shadowed with weariness.
Enoch shook his head and sighed, but Jem could tell by the way his shoulders slumped that he knew he was beaten.
‘Mirabelle, please . . .’
‘Where did I come from?’
Enoch looked at the ground.
‘Who was she? Who was that woman I saw?’
Enoch rubbed his forehead and refused to look at Mirabelle.
‘I saw you at the window holding a baby. Why were you crying, Enoch?’
Enoch’s eyes widened in shock.
He looked helpless, and Jem felt a sudden pity for him that took her by surprise. He seemed lost, like a man who has suddenly entered a strange new world and has no idea where he is. She knew how that felt.
‘Mirabelle . . .’
‘Enoch, just tell me. Who was she?’
Enoch sighed and closed his eyes.
Eliza stepped forward. ‘She was your mother.’
Enoch looked furious with her, but Eliza simply ignored him and continued speaking to Mirabelle.
‘She was your mother, and I’m sorry we hid that from you, and that you had to find out this way. We all thought it was for the best. We thought . . .’ She shook her head, unable to continue.
It seemed as if the whole night exhaled. All eyes were on Mirabelle. She looked at a point in the middle distance, as if no one else were there. Eventually she nodded.
‘Right, I see.’ She started up the steps. ‘I need to get Piglet back to his room.’
The Family parted and watched her enter the house.
Jem took Tom up the steps, but he stopped her when they reached the top and shook his head. He pushed her hand away gently as she reached out to him, then made his way over to Enoch. A shocked Enoch could only stare as Tom gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
‘You shouldn’t blame yourself. You did your best for her,’ said Tom.
He turned and stumbled slightly. Jem grabbed hold of him and walked him into the house. She took him upstairs and his strength seemed to rally a little. He removed his bloody shirt before clambering into bed. Jem watched him as he looked up at the ceiling. He seemed calm despite everything that had happened.
‘You should find Mirabelle,’ he said.
‘How do you feel?’
‘I’m fine. I’ll be fine,’ he said, smiling weakly at her now. ‘Go and find Mirabelle.’
Mirabelle was locking the great iron door to Piglet’s room when Jem found her. For some reason she didn’t feel afraid about venturing down into this part of the house any more.
Mirabelle leaned her forehead against the door and took a moment. ‘You were right, you know.’
‘About what?’ asked Jem.
Mirabelle turned and looked at her. Her grey eyes were clouded over with pain. She laid a hand on her chest.
‘It hurts. It hurts everywhere.’
Freddie
The panicked hammering on the front door came in the early hours of the morning. Freddie jolted awake with his heart pounding. He’d been dreaming of James again. They’d been driving past some fields with their father, and James was smiling and laughing and telling him a story. Freddie was laughing so hard tears came to his eyes. He turned to see his father at the wheel. He was laughing also, and the green fields whizzed by and the world was bright and filled with promise and Freddie wanted it to last forever . . .
But then came that panicked knocking. Freddie hopped out of bed, immediately slathered in sweat. He opened his bedroom window, which was above the butcher’s shop and faced right out onto the main street.
‘Hello?’ he said.
A short portly figure stepped back from the door. It was Mr Carswell, one of the local farmers.
‘Freddie! Get your dad. Something’s happened.’
Freddie woke his father. It was like watching a great balding giant lumbering out of the bed in the dark. Freddie’s mother stirred and his father assured her that there was nothing to worry about.
Freddie let Mr Carswell in while his father got dressed. Mr Carswell had a bushy lion’s mane of a beard while what was left of his grey hair stood out from the top of his head in corkscrews. Today his agitation had made his hair even more askew. He looked out of the window, patting the knuckles of one hand fretfully against the palm of the other while Freddie watched him.
‘What is it, Bill?’
Freddie’s father loomed in the doorway, like a great hulking shadow hewn