eighteen

The cart rattled on leaving the two men in the car behind them. Those two men, police officials one might presume, stayed where they were and remained watching the road. Finally, once the car had disappeared into the distance Roy spoke up.

‘It wouldn’t be you they were talking about would it?’

‘I don’t think so. I haven’t committed any crimes. Thank you for covering for me though.’

‘That’s alright. They didn’t seem right to me somehow. You are trying to get to Shepley Down though aren’t you?’

‘I am. But only because I’m delivering a package, and even that was because of a chance meeting.’

Both men fell to thinking now. Roy pondered if what George said was true or if he was a fugitive of some kind. But he had a good intuition with people, perhaps thanks to being a sociable person and having to bargain and barter and sell at market time. There was also the fact that George just did not seem like a criminal to him, he seemed too polite.

George was thinking again about the package and the meeting at the harbour front at Gorlis. It had been a very unusual meeting in very unusual circumstances, and now that it was possible he was wanted by the law, he wondered if it had been too strange.

‘Maybe we should open the package I was given. Perhaps I was too trusting before.’

‘I think I agree with you.’

It was nearing lunch and so they agreed to stop at a convenient and shaded spot, both to eat some food, but also to open that package. At last, they approached a wooded patch of road, and here Roy tied the horses together and allowed them to graze a bit, while he and George sat down and ate some simple fare.

‘I read the letter recently because I felt worried about the package and everything. I got told that the ship that came into port had been in trouble and had to crash in the port because the crew had gone mad. I was to deliver this package which had been brought ashore by one of the sailors.’

George untied the string around the package, and then tore the paper that held the little box. Inside George saw something that he could not quite make out.

‘What do you think it is?’

‘Looks like a mushroom I think. Not one that I’ve ever seen though.’

It was indeed a mushroom, but instead of some typical fungus, this one was very unusual. Upon its cap was an image of a skull.

seventeen

The morning was still fresh with a cool wind whistling across the fields and George felt invigorated by the early start. He was sat next to Roy at the cart enjoying the new things that he was observing; the creaking of the harnesses, the motion of the horses, the rattling of the cart’s wheels.

‘So tell me George, what is it that you plan on doing in Shepley Down? There isn’t much there from what I remember.’

‘Well I’m delivering a package for someone that I met in Gorlis.’

‘Ah I see. Is that something you do normally, delivering packages?’

‘No, not at all. I was working previously in a little office in my home village, but I have decided to go travelling.’

‘I see.’ Roy was silent for a while. ‘I can’t say I understand that. When I was young I had a friend who decided to go and work far-off, in a different country. He said he wanted to see more of the world. But for me the thing I have enjoyed is my family and my home. I know it’s not very glamorous, but this land feels part of me, and more importantly, me a part of it.’

The conversation ended there, but not because George was offended, rather that Roy’s ideas had given him something to think about. Why was it that he himself did not feel this way about his previous home? Why had he not wanted to stay in the valley, and walk in the woods? He supposed it was different for someone who worked outdoors and tilled the soil. For him there was a distance between the human and the rest of nature, a separation that perhaps had dislodged him.

The cart rolled on down the long and winding roads that connected these distant places, but after almost an hours travel they were stopped by two men in uniform who were waiting by a car.

‘Stop!’ they shouted with firm and aggressive voices. One of them remained by the car while the other walked over and began to question Roy and George.

‘Where are you travelling to?’

‘Just to the market in Teverton.’

‘On what business?’

‘To sell some crops,’ responded Roy as he pointed into the cart with his thumb.

‘And who is this?’

‘This is my nephew, John.’

‘John hey? Where are you from John.’

‘He’s from Teverton. I’m dropping him back at my sister’s…’

‘Let him answer! Have either of you seen a young man travelling alone, or perhaps someone who was talking about hitching to Shepley Down?’

‘No,’ answered George, ‘we’ve been working these past few days on the farm.’

‘I see. Well if you do see anyone trying to hitch a lift, ignore them, they could be dangerous.’

‘Dangerous?’

‘Yes. Wanted for crimes against the state.’

‘We’ll keep a look out,’ said Roy, and, after another suspicious look into the cart, the man allowed them to pass on. The other man, the one who had stayed by the car, looked them over and made notes as they passed.

sixteen

George fell asleep almost straight away. Barely had he made himself comfortable, and began to feel the warmth of his own body flow about him, than his eyes closed and he was in deep rest. His breathing became soft and measured, and the sound combined with the crackles and pops of the dying fire, as well as with the creaks of the home’s beams and rafters, jambs and doors.

At a time that he could not determine precisely, for it was still dark outside, although the fire was now completely forgotten by the hearth, George felt himself awake. The close darkness all about him contained within it all the comfort of sleep, and yet it also seemed to hold more. There was a rich smell that was so complex, yet so normal to George’s nostrils, a charming quiet that was not as oppressive as total silence, but was instead punctuated by the pleasing sounds of a house alive. He was tired, and could still sense the weariness of his long walking in his legs and feet, but sleep now seemed like such a waste; how much better it was to lie here and be relaxed, in body, mind and soul.

Yet he did drift again into sleep, and this time he dreamt of strange things. There were no magical landscapes or impossible incidents; instead it was as if George himself had been transformed. Now, in order to see, he had to close his eyes, and in doing so he could see all the more clearly. And he could hear better too, as if his ears could fly around the house or across the neighbourhood, listening to the breaths of field mice or the rustling of reeds in the night breeze.

But again George awoke and this time there were the sounds of human activity. Steps were abounding upstairs, and through the door, that led into the hallway, he could hear the knocking of pots and pans, of boots walking in and out into the yard, and also the slamming of a gate. But through the heavy curtains there could not be seen much light, and what did get through made George feel even more tired. However, the guest on the sofa has an obligation to wake promptly. He got dressed, folded up the blanket, and packed the few things that he had gotten out of his bag. Next he pulled back the curtains and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight that was shining low across the landscape.

‘Good morning. Go and have some breakfast, we have a long way to go.’ Roy’s voice seemed so loud and clear in the morning sun that George could do nothing but listen to it, and so he walked through to the kitchen where he was again greeted with warmth and generosity. He enjoyed toast, eggs, bacon and some tea, and was delighted to listen to all the chatter about him; the children asking each other about things for school, the mother who would correct them and gently chide them to ‘hurry up, or you’ll be late’. George was sat on the rustic and characterful wooden chair, and whilst eating that he had found something here that he would like to share in again.

‘So did you sleep well George?’ asked Roy.

‘I did thank you. Do you need any help loading up the cart? You mentioned you were going to town today?’

‘That’s right, but I loaded the cart up last night. All I need now is for you to join me. If you still want to that is?’

‘Of course Roy. Your help would be very much appreciated. I had no idea Shepley Down would be so hard to get to.’

‘Never mind, we’ll get you there.’