Blood Harvest - By S. J. Bolton Page 0,48

men could see four carved stone coffins, set on shelves on either side of the alcove. Prone statues of men in clerical robes lay on each of them. The name Thomas Barwick was inscribed on the first. He’d been abbot in the year 1346. The writing on the other coffins was too worn for Harry to make it out. The men started walking back down the length of the cellar, shining their torches into each locked alcove they passed. They stopped at the last. Beyond the stone coffins, set into the far wall, was a wooden door.

‘Where do you think that leads?’ said Gareth. ‘I’ve completely lost my bearings.’

Harry shrugged. He had too. ‘There are some old keys in the desk in the vestry,’ he said. ‘Shoved to the back of one of the drawers.’

‘Another day, perhaps,’ said Gareth.

‘I can’t believe no one told me this was here,’ said Harry. ‘Its historical significance could be huge. There’ll be coach parties visiting.’

‘Maybe that’s why it’s been kept so quiet,’ suggested Gareth. ‘Does your churchwarden strike you as the sort of man who wants his town turned into a tourist attraction?’

‘He doesn’t own the whole town,’ said Harry, annoyed. Abbots from hundreds of years ago could be interred in this very space. It was an incredible find.

‘Just most of it.’

‘Yeah, well he doesn’t own the church. And he certainly doesn’t own this.’

‘Red Riding Hood’s house,’ said Tom, forgetting that he was sulking.

‘Red Riding Hood’s grandmother’s house,’ corrected his mother, as Millie toddled up to the cottage’s front door.

Unlike the ruined buildings they’d just passed, the cottage seemed solid and in good repair. The walls were intact, the roof looked sound, the front door firm on its hinges. There were even two windows, with shutters pulled tight. And a chimney.

Alice reached out and tried the door handle. Locked. She turned back to her children and shrugged. ‘Guess Grandmother’s not home,’ she said. ‘I think this must be the cottage Jenny told us about. The one she and her sister used to play in.’

Tom shivered. He glanced at Joe, who was looking down at the ground, as though he had no interest in the cottage. A sudden thought struck Tom. What if this cottage was where the girl lived?

‘Let’s go,’ he announced. Alice nodded and the family walked on until they came to the Tor.

‘Can we climb up, Mum?’ asked Joe.

‘Absolutely not,’ replied Alice. ‘In this fog and without your father, this is as far as we’re going.’

Tom was staring up at the massive pile of rocks that disappeared into cloud. There was something about the way they towered over him that made him feel nervous. And he certainly didn’t like looking up, the way his mum and Joe and even Millie were doing. Turning away, he cried out before he could stop himself.

‘What’s the matter?’ called Alice, spinning round.

‘There’s someone over there,’ said Tom. ‘In the trees. Someone watching us.’

Alice frowned and screwed up her eyes. Then she looked quickly from right to left. ‘I can’t see anything,’ she said. ‘Just trees.’

Tom moved closer to his mother. A tall, thin figure had been standing amongst the trees, watching. Once spotted, it had moved, fading back into the fog. Tom turned to glare at Joe, then stopped himself. It hadn’t really looked the right shape or height to be the girl.

‘Come on,’ said Alice. ‘We should get back. I don’t think this fog is going to lift. Quick as we can, everyone.’ Hoisting Millie on to her hip again, she set off towards the trees. Then she stopped. ‘There is someone there,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘Hold on a sec, Joe.’

Tom felt a lump forming in his chest. He couldn’t see anything, or at least … his mother was reaching into her pocket. She brought out her mobile and looked at the screen. Then she pressed some keys and held it to her ear.

‘Who are you phoning?’ said Tom.

‘Daddy,’ replied Alice, before shaking her head. ‘He must still be underground.’

She looked behind them once more and then set off again, heading downhill. First Joe and then Tom followed. Neither of them spoke. Every few steps Alice slowed down and looked back. After a few seconds Tom found himself doing the same thing. Just grey cloud behind. Already the Tor had disappeared.

After a few minutes, they reached the copse. The trees seemed to Tom to have grown taller since the family had last walked past them. He moved closer to his mother and

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