‘It all went pretty well, though,’ said Alice. ‘You had a full house and nobody went to sleep.’
‘And I’m sure they all found it a deeply fulfilling spiritual experience,’ said Gareth. ‘Ignore my wife. She’s American.’
‘Like you ever set foot in a church before you married me,’ retorted Alice. ‘Were you even baptized? Where’s your breadstick, poppet? Oh, did the vicar steal it? Bad vicar.’
‘I was dipped into Rawtenstall reservoir by my left ankle,’ said Gareth. ‘It made me invincible.’
Something was wrong here. Alice and Gareth were trying too hard. Something about the smiles and the banter felt forced. Come to think of it, neither looked like they’d had much sleep.
‘Can I do anything, Alice?’ Harry offered.
‘You could find the boys. It usually takes about ten minutes to get them to the table, so be firm.’
Taking his glass with him, Harry began a search of the house. The downstairs rooms were empty of children so he headed upstairs. ‘Boys,’ he called when he reached the top step. ‘Lunch is ready.’
There was no reply, so he walked towards two doors at the end of the landing. He knocked gently at the first and pushed it open. Joe sat in the middle of the carpet, surrounded by tiny toy soldiers.
‘Hey, buddy,’ said Harry. ‘Mum says lunch is ready.’
Joe looked back down and moved several of his soldiers to new positions.
‘I heard you being sick,’ he said. ‘In church. Everyone heard.’
Great, thought Harry. ‘Well, I hope it won’t put anyone off their lunch,’ he said. ‘Are you coming down?’ He stepped back to the doorway. The room next door must be Tom’s.
‘They died, didn’t they?’
Harry walked back into the room and crouched until his head was almost on a level with Joe’s. The child hadn’t taken his eyes off his game of soldiers. Time to die.
‘What do you mean, Joe?’ he asked. ‘Who died?’
Joe raised his head and looked back at Harry. There were dark shadows under his eyes.
‘Who died, Joe?’ he asked, keeping his voice as soft as he could.
‘The little girls in the church,’ replied Joe.
‘Joe, were you in church yesterday afternoon?’ asked Harry. ‘Did you hear me talking to Mrs Pickup?’
Joe shook his head. He didn’t look as though he was lying. In any case, Jenny had told him about her daughter when she and Harry had been outside.
‘Harry, boys, lunch,’ called Alice from the bottom of the stairs. Harry began to push himself to his feet.
‘Not that one,’ muttered Joe, talking to his soldiers this time. ‘Everybody knows about that one. I meant the other ones.’
Harry was back down on his knees again. ‘Which other ones?’ he asked. ‘Joe?’
Joe looked up at him again. He was the sweetest-looking boy Harry had ever seen, with his pale freckled face, blue eyes and red hair. But there was something in those eyes that didn’t look quite right.
‘Is nobody in this house hungry?’ yelled Alice.
Harry got to his feet. ‘We have to go, buddy,’ he said, pulling Joe to his feet and steering him towards the door. On the landing a noise behind them made them turn. The door to Tom’s room was pulled open. The room beyond was in darkness, the curtains drawn. Tom appeared in the doorway, crossed in front of them and walked heavily down the stairs. It was the first time he had ever ignored Harry.
‘Mummy, after lunch can we do the lanterns?’ said Joe.
Alice was leaning across the table, cutting Millie’s chicken into smaller pieces. She glanced at Tom and then at Harry. A frown line had appeared between her eyebrows. ‘I’m not sure, sweetie,’ she replied. ‘Not everybody likes Hallowe’en. We can’t upset the vicar.’
‘I’m fine with pumpkins,’ said Harry, watching Alice look nervously back at Tom. ‘I’ll give you a hand if you like, Joe,’ he went on. ‘Although, given how talented your mum and dad are, I’ll probably be a big disappointment.’
‘We do trick-or-treating on Hallowe’en,’ said Joe. ‘You can come with us if you like.’
‘Actually, Joe, I haven’t promised anything yet.’ Alice was looking at Tom again. Her eldest son’s plate hadn’t been touched. ‘What do you think, Harry?’ she said, turning to him again. ‘Is Heptonclough likely to celebrate Hallowe’en?’
‘Oh, I’d put money on it,’ Harry replied. ‘Everything OK, Tom?’
‘Tom has to go and see a special doctor,’ announced Joe. ‘Because he’s been making up stories about monsters and last night he was historical.’
‘What?’ said Harry.
‘Joe, that will do,’ said Gareth at the same time.