Shadows at Stonewylde (4 page)

She considered lighting a fire and brewing some tea but she didn’t really have time. The most important thing was to record these latest mushrooms. As with all the fungi she collected, and many of the herbs and plants too, she wasn’t completely sure she had the right ones. There was nobody apart from Old Violet who really knew all the species, and Leveret certainly wasn’t going to ask that wicked crone for advice. So she had to rely on the Book and that wasn’t easy. The drawings and writing had been done many years before and were faded and in places almost illegible. Much of her harvesting was therefore guesswork.

Leveret took the school exercise book entitled ‘Mushrooms’ from its secret hiding place and found a pencil in the dresser drawer. She then wrote about the fungus in careful detail, describing not only the mushrooms themselves but also their exact location in the woods and the date they’d been picked. She’d leave the illustration for Magpie as his drawing skills were so much better than hers. When she’d finished, she leafed back through the book reading some of the entries. It was almost full now and she longed for the day when she could get hold of a big, beautiful book bound in soft black leather and filled with thick sheets of parchment. She wanted to write her descriptions in proper ink that she’d made herself, and Magpie to paint the illustrations in soft watercolours. Leveret sighed again. She knew it would happen one day. Her own Book was what she wanted most in the world.

Her green eyes flew open from their drowsing as the door swung open and the candle guttered, but of course it was only Magpie. Nobody else ever bothered with the place. She noticed, before he shut the door, that the sky was lightening outside and she knew she must get home very soon. But Magpie put paid to that. He lurched across the tiny room and placed a hand on her hair, stroking the silky curls. His lips curled in his twisted smile and his beautiful eyes, usually blank and devoid of any focus, shone at her.

‘Blessings, Magpie,’ she laughed. ‘What a lovely surprise. I’ve just recorded the mushrooms. Do you want to draw them now before they start to dry up?’

He shook his head and fished in the voluminous pockets of his large and disgusting coat. Magpie’s coat was infamous; he wore it in all weathers, clinging to it even in the heat of the summer. It was ancient and filthy but he refused to part with it. From the pocket he drew a hunk of loaf and a handful of roasted chestnuts, and then a small metal can on a handle. He fetched two mugs from the dresser and clumsily poured milk for them both and shared out the food. She smiled gratefully and sank her sharp teeth into the stale bread as Magpie sat down on the floor to eat his breakfast. Magpie always sat on the floor to eat. Leveret finished quickly and brushed the crumbs from her lap.

‘I must get back now, Magpie,’ she said. ‘Mother was furious last night. I’m in such trouble so if you don’t see me around for a few days you know why. But look for me at school and hopefully we can walk home to the Village together each day.’

She started to get up but Magpie, still on the floor, shook his head and laid it on her knee, holding her calves tight.

‘What is it, Mag?’ she asked softly, knowing she must get home quickly. Even now it was probably too late. Magpie started to sob, the horrible guttering noise that she knew so well. Poor Magpie had a lot to cry about and it was one of the few ways he could express himself. Leveret stroked the hair, matted and lank, away from his face. He was always dirty unless Maizie or someone else involved in Welfare intervened and insisted that he have a bath. Maybe she should start helping him herself, taking him to the Bath House every week and ensuring that he went in and cleaned himself up. It’d never really bothered her before, as she’d grown up with a filthy Magpie by her side, but lately he’d started to smell horrible. She realised that even someone as different and backward as Magpie had finally reached adolescence.

He must have sensed her thoughts for he looked up at her with sad eyes. Magpie’s eyes were his best feature – large, clear and a beautiful turquoise. When he washed his long hair it was lovely too, a rich butterscotch colour, but usually it was several shades darker and duller with dirt.

‘
Magpie hurts
.’

‘Where does it hurt?’ she asked.

He pulled back the hair from his temple and she saw a small blue lump. Then he rolled up a dirty trouser leg and she saw another blue lump, much bigger, on his shin. He looked like a kicked puppy and her heart went out to him as always. He led such a miserable life, neglected by his mother, grandmother and great aunt, and badly bullied by his cousin Jay and anyone else who could be roped in to have a go.

‘Who did it, Magpie?’ she whispered, gently touching the bruise on his temple. ‘Was it Jay?’

He nodded and tears trickled down his dirty cheeks. His cousin Jay was the torment of his life. The abuse had started at an early age in the strange household where they grew up together, little Magpie neglected whilst young Jay ruled the roost. Eventually it had become clear that Magpie wasn’t developing normally but despite Hazel’s tests, the cause was never really clear. Old Violet had delivered the baby herself and Hazel suspected there’d been oxygen starvation; whatever the cause of his slowness, Magpie never spoke but remained silent and unfocused, living in his own private world. Leveret had always been his only friend and she hated Jay who was a few years older than her and went around in a gang with her brothers Sweyn and Gefrin. All three were bullies, unchecked by fathers.

Leveret found a bottle on the dresser and tipped some of the astringent contents onto a piece of rag, holding it against the blue swelling on Magpie’s leg.

‘Witch-hazel, Magpie,’ she said. ‘It’ll help the bruising. He didn’t hurt you for taking the milk and bread, did he?’

Magpie shook his head and started the complex communication he’d developed with Leveret to explain the train of events. She sensed images of Jay returning at night, with the full moon shining, and kicking Magpie. She felt the boy’s pain and bewilderment and clearly saw Jay’s face contorted with sadistic glee.

‘He’s horrible, isn’t he? I expect he’d been turned down by a girl – not surprising really. Next Moon Fullness you must stay out of his way. Thank you for the breakfast, Magpie. It was lovely but now I must get home. You can draw the mushrooms next time but don’t leave it too long or they’ll dry up completely. I think they’re the right ones but so many of them look the same. Don’t touch the Book of Shadows when I’m not here, will you Magpie? You’re never, ever to do that.’

He shook his head solemnly. She’d tried to impress this on him so many times, for the Book was the most precious thing in her life. She knew she’d have to find a new hiding place for it soon, one which Magpie knew nothing about. He just couldn’t be trusted not to touch it or give its presence away if forced. She smiled at him and bent to kiss his cheek. He stood up quickly and engulfed her in a hug. He really did need a bath.

A thin-lipped Maizie was waiting back at the cottage. Leveret could think of no good reason for her early morning absence so remained obstinately silent, which made her mother even angrier.

‘I’m now late for my meeting at the Hall! Yul will wonder where on earth I am and you’re late for school. If we hurry now ‘twon’t be so bad but there’s no time for breakfast so don’t even think about it.’

Leveret wasn’t. She was plotting how to get hold of some more empty bottles for her potions; there were ways, but she had to be careful. Everything at Stonewylde was used thoughtfully and bottles were a precious commodity.

‘Leveret! Come on! You’re day-dreaming again and I haven’t finished with you yet. We’ll talk about it on the way.’

They left the house and the girl trudged along beside her mother, their two dark curly heads so alike. Maizie’s, greying around the temples now, bobbed and shook as she launched into another tirade about last night’s lateness. Leveret’s remained bowed as the words washed over her. She was grateful that all the younger children were safely tucked up at the Village School, whilst the older ones would already be in assembly in the Galleried Hall, so nobody would see her mother working herself up to a fine lather. A few women at the water pump greeted them as they walked briskly through the cobbled streets of the Village. Mother and daughter hurried on past the Green with its blanket of fallen autumn leaves, past the Jack in the Green pub and the Great Barn and towards the track out of the Village.

They heard singing coming across from the Village School and Leveret recognised the Samhain songs she’d sung when she was younger. She knew the children would be busy making their papier-mâché crows and skulls ready to hang in the Great Barn in two weeks’ time, and practising their dances and drama to perform to the magus and the rest of the community. Soon each Stonewylder would go down to the beach and choose their handful of white stones ready to mark out the labyrinth on the Green. Leveret loved Samhain and this one should be really special, with the Dark Moon falling as it did on the night of the festival. She was ready to cast her first spell. She smiled to herself at the thought and let Maizie’s scolding pour over her unheeded.

They continued out of the Village and onto the paved track that led to the Hall. The sun had risen higher and now gilded the trees all around them in soft October hues. The air was fresh and pure and Leveret sniffed appreciatively, not hearing any of Maizie’s words. Instead she heard the bright music of blackbirds and the mew of a buzzard overhead, and in the distance the drone of a tractor as the sound of children’s singing receded.

Leveret walked where the fallen leaves were thickest, delighting in the noisy scrunching her feet made amongst the brown, curled leaves, kicking them up to make even more noise. All around her more leaves fell gently from the branches in the slight breeze. She watched in wonder as many of the golden flakes were carried upwards, defying gravity to whirl about overhead. She noticed a jay flying fast through the trees, the distinctive flash of black and white on its rump a contrast to the pink-brown body. A group of magpies screamed and squabbled in the branches, and she thought how inappropriate it was that Magpie was named after such an aggressive and noisy bird. The shy jay would’ve been far more fitting.

‘Stop shuffling in the leaves, Leveret!’ said Maizie sharply. ‘You’ll scuff your boots.’

‘Mother, why don’t you do something to help Magpie?’

‘What? Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? You and Magpie are to stop seeing each other, and—’

‘Jay’s been hurting him again and I can’t bear it.’

She stopped, remembering she mustn’t let on that she’d seen Magpie earlier that morning. Maizie might start wondering where they’d met and it was vital that her visits to Mother Heggy’s cottage remain secret.

‘I’m sorry to hear it, and goddess knows how many times I’ve tried to get them all to show the boy a little more care. But you know as well as I do, Leveret – that family are a law unto themselves.’

‘But they shouldn’t be! Jay shouldn’t get away with hurting poor Magpie and you could stop it.’

‘No I couldn’t. Do you think Old Violet would listen to me?’

‘It’s not his grandmother, it’s Jay. He makes Magpie’s life a misery.’

‘I can’t just march in there and tell Jay off. That’s up to Magpie’s awful mother, Starling. And Magpie’s an adult now, even though he’s so soft in the head. ‘Tis not my place to interfere with what goes on there.’

‘Yes it is, Mother! You’re in charge of Village Welfare, aren’t you? You could say something to the women, even if you don’t want to speak to Jay. Or are you too scared of them?’

‘Don’t be so cheeky! O’ course I’m not scared. ‘Tis just that … well, they do as they wish in that cottage and me going barging in now and telling them how to run their lives would do no good. ‘Twould most likely make things worse, getting ’em all riled up again as it’s done many a time in the past when I’ve tried to put things straight there. You know they’ve never liked me and besides, Magpie’s alright – or as alright as he ever is, being so dirty and simple. The boy is strange and he’s no fit company for you, my girl, as I’ve been telling you for years.’

Leveret kicked angrily at the drifts of leaves, disappointed that as always her mother, the one person in the Village who should intervene, failed to understand what went on in Magpie’s home. She knew her mother was scared of the three women but would never admit it, preferring to turn a blind eye to Magpie’s suffering. She was very good at turning a blind eye to what went on right under her nose, as Leveret knew only too well. She’d respect her mother far more if she did something about Magpie’s awful situation, which had been going on for far too long.

‘Besides, Jay lives up at the Hall now,’ said Maizie. ‘You’d do well to concentrate on your own behaviour rather than telling tales about his. You’ve always been too fond of moaning on about others’ wrongdoings. Your brothers, for instance. The number of times you’ve come to me complaining about a whole cloud of nothing! ‘Tis one of your shortcomings, Leveret, being a little tell-tale-tit, and I’m sick of it. I always— Oh look, there’s Sylvie!’

Up ahead where the paved track turned into the gravel drive to the Hall they saw a tall, slim figure walking in the same direction. Leveret’s heart sank.

‘Blessings!’ called Maizie, quickening her step. Sylvie stopped and turned, her pale face slipping into a smile as she waited for them to catch up. Leveret watched her, noting the droop of her shoulders and the shadows under her eyes. The morning after the Moon Fullness was often an anti-climax, a first step towards the waning of the moon and the Dark Moon two weeks later. But she sensed that there was something more than that bothering her sister-in-law.