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Episode 26 Parts 1-4

Part 1

“That’s weird.   Do you think that there is any connection?”   Mary asked, her interest peaked by the co-incidental timing of Malena’s return to the village.

   “I don’t know,” Frank replied, “Perhaps it was just a co-incidence, but it was nice to see her again after all these years.”

   “And the light at the farm appeared during the chanting?”

   “Yes … the chanting had been going for a few minutes before the light appeared.   That’s what had attracted everybody outside.   If it hadn’t been for the chanting most folks wouldn’t have seen the light …and it was when the light appeared that the screaming started.    Oh God, it was such a terrible sound.    I don’t think that I would ever like to hear it again.”

   “Have you ever heard it since that night, the chanting that is, not the screaming?”

   “No, thank God.”

   “And you never discussed what happened to Malena all that time ago with your friend Laurie, not even after what happened at the farm?”

   “No.   I have never told anyone about it until today.   As I said earlier … I am fairly certain that Old Laurie and myself are friends because I never bring it up.   If he had wanted to talk about a possible connection between the two events he would have brought it up, ”

   “Frank, it’s not that I am unappreciative of what you have revealed to me today, in fact it’s just the opposite, I am truly grateful to your sharing your experiences in the weird and unusual.   Especially at a time when my life seems to be taking some extraordinary twists and turns in a similar environment, but I am curious as to why you are telling me now if you have failed to speak with family and friends over the years about the events you encountered all those years age?   Is it simply a need to get something off your chest and you feel it easier and safer to confide in a stranger that you are hardly likely to see ever again, or is there another reason? ”

    “I don’t know, Mary.”Frank began tentatively,   “From the moment that I met you I felt I could trust you, and I think that I was right …  I felt like we were kindred spirits.   Both of us on the verge of encountering something that put the fear of God in our hearts, but never quite revealing itself in enough clarity for us to know what we really saw – and what was purely fear induced imagination.   When you saw that thing in the photograph and didn’t say anything to the doctor it seemed to me to be just like it had been that night that I had literally ran into Malena.   Something had happened around me that had sent shivers down my spine, and fear into my heart.   But it was something  that I couldn’t explain or ask questions about because I was uncertain about what exactly had happened to Malena, or what I had actually heard in the forest that night.   Even though she had told me what had happened to her, about the witches, about how they were considering to use her as a sacrifice, my own fear had blocked out the horror of what she saying.   At that point of time I heard her story through the ears of an excited, inquisitive schoolboy … which I was, but as time moved on, the nightmares began.   Two nights after I had run into Melena my imagination began to take control of my dreams and my mind.   I could began to imagine how it must have felt to be Melena … to be stripped and man handled while witches placed the sheet over her.   To hear them argue about whether or not they should kill her, and then I could feel the fear that ran through her heart as she ran through the bushes as she tried to escape, hearing my footsteps so close to her as I moved down the road , but having no idea whether I was friend or foe.   Then the absolute terror that ran through both our fast palpitating hearts as we made physical contact when we crashed into each other.   For several weeks afterward, every single night, my dreams were the same.   The sweat poured from my tortured soul in my dreams.   I could feel her fear every bit as much as she had at the time, but in my waking hours I knew that it was either only my imagination that was causing the horrific dreams each night, or my subconscious had absorbed more of what she had said than my mind had allowed me to hear at the time.   However it didn’t matter where the dreams were coming from, they were ruining my health and I needed help, but who could I talk to?   Malena had long since departed the village, and I have explained my relationship with Old Laurie, so I was on my own for my battle for control of my own mind.

   Fortunately the mid summer term holidays arrived and I wangled a week’s holiday with my Aunt Gloria up in Brighton.   It got me away from the village and it helped a bit,  and while I was up there I ran into an old friend who used to live a couple of doors up from my mum and dad’s house.   He was a couple of years older than me and had moved to London to study medicine and he too was on holidays.   When we met up he said that I looked a little peaked.   I explained that I had seen something that I couldn’t discuss with anyone, but it was giving me nightmares and I wasn’t getting much sleep as a result.   He arranged to meet up for lunch the following day and when he arrived he gave me a bottle of pills.  Said that they weren’t illegal or anything, simply an anti-depressant that would settle me down and help me get some sleep.   It turns out that was all they were, but they worked a treat.   The second night’s sleep was the best that I had had for weeks.  He had also given me a prescription for repeats should I still find the need for them, but told me to stop after the first bottle was emptied and see how I went for a couple of days.   I was to stop taking them altogether if the first dosage worked, but if the nightmares began again I could use the prescription to get more pills, however I was also to see a doctor as soon as possible should this be the case.   He said the pills wouldn’t cause any problems in the short term, but they weren’t intended for indefinite usage.”

   “And did you need the repeats, and to see a doctor?”

   ‘No, not at the time, but I did get a spare bottle just in case.    However they seemed unnecessary.   The years passed by without the memories ever resurfacing and life was great… until the other night … and then the dreams returned – and so did the nightmares.”

“Oh, Frank, you poor man.   Did you still have the extra bottle of pills.”

    “Yes, thank God.   The prescription had long run out, so I was so pleased that I still had the spare bottle of pills.   I had forgotten all about them until the dream arrived.   I was lucky that I remembered where I put them, and that Mum hadn’t thrown them out.   Mary, the moment you started talking to me, asking me questions I could sense something about you that was different to anybody I had met before, outside of Old Laurie that is.   At first I didn’t understand what I was sensing, but once I began to recall the events of the other night in order to tell you what had happened it all suddenly began to make sense to me.    Something inside my head kept telling me that I could confide in you, no … it was telling me that I should confine in you.   For some unknown reason I felt that you needed to know what was going on in the village before you went to the farm.  Does that make sense to you, Mary?    I know that it mightn’t, but I can’t tell you anymore than that.   Not without sounding a little bit crazy.   More crazy than it already sounds, I suppose.” 

   Mary found herself perplexed.   She didn’t know what she should do or say next.   Frank had told her everything, yet he had told her nothing … it was proving to be a challenge for her, what was happening in her life, what it meant to her in the long haul.   Then a thought hit her like a bolt of lightning … there was a good chance that he was right.   Perhaps she did need to know things that would not crop up in a normal conversation, some answers to questions that may never had been asked.   Perhaps this was part of Johann P Biggs grand enquiry on Joseph’s free time activities, though how he would know that she would perform her random act of not following Joseph and come to the garage instead was beyond her current thinking process.    ‘Perhaps Gizmo brainwashed me somehow? ‘  she wondered, ‘Who knows?   Though considering all I have been through today, or at least all that I think that I have been through. perhaps accepting everything offered to me with equal aplomb may be the best way to go.   I doubt that there is little more that can frighten me, but I may learn a bit more about Joseph … and perhaps Johann’s true objective.’

   “No, Frank, I don’t think you are crazy.”   Mary said in a soft voice as she gently patted the band-aid on her forehead, “I think that I am still a tad edgy after what happened earlier.   Thank you for trusting me, Frank.   I must admit that I felt relieved when you told me that you had seen that horrible creature too.   I think that if I had told you first … and then you said that you had seen it as well, I may have disbelieved you.   I may have thought that you were just saying that just to give me comfort.   I’m still finding it hard to believe that I saw it myself, to be honest.  Though, in my mind, I’m still seeing things that you didn’t … and I don’t know how much faith to give their reality.   I think that I might try and dismiss them from my mind.   If I have to live with unwanted memories hanging around, so be it, but I will not do it willingly.”

   “Before I was given the anti-depressants I used to try to force any memories connected with that night I met Malena out of my mind,”   Frank said with a sigh, “Now I wish that I had learnt more about it.   Then perhaps the recent events may have made more sense.  I don’t know much about what went on at the farm, but I can’t help think it had something to do with them witches … in fact I’m certain of it.   But I will probably never know what they did.”

   “That is fine for you, Frank, but from what you told me, what you imagine – is only your imagination.   Its all primarily based on what Malena told your about what happened to her.    I doubt very much that you established  a physic link with her, but you appear to me to be a sensitive person, so perhaps your subconscious was, is still, showing empathy for her in your dreams.   But, Frank, believe me … what I can still see in my mind at the moment is … .   I’m sorry.   I can’t explain what I think that I saw, but if I were able to, and I told you what I think happened to me while you were outside in the driveway, it would be you, not the good doctor, that would have me committed.

   “I’m so sorry, Mary.”  Frank said, a horrified look now spreading across his face.   “I had no idea that you had been so badly affected.   I just thought you were a remarkably strong person … I never realised that you were holding things in.   Is there anything that I can do to help?   Would you like another cup of tea or a coffee?    Or perhaps you would like something stronger.    I have some scotch if you prefer?”

   “Scotch?   You have scotch here?”   Mary asked in surprise.   “I hope you are not drinking alcohol when you are fixing cars.   That would be rather dangerous, wouldn’t it?”

   “No, no.”    Frank replied profusely in a defensive manner even though there was a huge smile on Mary’s face as she asked the question.   “Its only for Saturday after the garage has been closed for the night.   Old Laurie comes over for a couple of drinks and a chat and the garage is the best place for a bit of peace and quiet.   I live at home with my mum and dad, and Old Laurie likes to get away from the house now and then.   He walks down because he likes that fresh air and picks up some chicken or fish and chips on the way and we have a few drinks after we have eaten.   We never get drunk, though we may have come close on couple of occasions when we had a lot to talk about, like the night we discussed the strange light show at the farm.   Most nights we just sip our drinks and chat away about nothing in particular and everything in general.   Saturday nights are the best nights for our little get together.   I don’t do any car repairs on a Sunday.   The garage is only open for petrol and things off the shelves and that gives me a chance to sleep in.   So a couple of drinks on Saturday night doesn’t cause me any grief.

   “It’s alright, Frank, I was only teasing you.   But in answer to your kind offer there’s nothing that you can do for me, but thank you for asking.”   However, almost before Mary finished speaking, a memory unexpectedly arose from the back of her mind.  “Frank, you said you thought that the witches may have been involved in what happened at the farm.   Surely that was a witch that I saw coming out of the door in the photograph?”   Then, as the memory became more clearer in her mind she suddenly remembered that the witch, or whoever it was, seemed to have moved from a standing position in the doorway to a prone position on the ground when she had returned her gaze to the picture.   But something warned her to be careful and it caused her to decide that perhaps she should hold back on giving Frank that information for the moment … and considering Frank’s reply she had good reason to be glad that she did … and it raised a dozen more questions that she needed answering, but not by Frank.

   “I’m sorry,” Frank replied in a believably surprised tone, “but what witches?

   Now Mary was surprised.   ‘Surely Frank had seen the figure.”   She decided,   ‘It was the most prominent thing in the picture outside of the light, and perhaps the orb.   Surely he had seen it… how could he not?   “When I was looking at the picture I could see a man silhouetted in the doorway.   That was where I had been concentrating my vision just before the creature attacked me.”

   “I don’t remember seeing anybody in the picture.”

   “I can assure you that there was.   Come on, Frank and I will show you.”   Mary began walking towards the photograph without thought as to how it would affect her, but the second her eyes began taking in the details within the distorted photo the memories of what had happened but a short time ago came flooding back and she felt her entire body beginning to shake.   She forced herself to concentrate on the spot where she had seen the man and it worked immediately.   The horror of what had taken place was suddenly forgotten as a new, unexpected, surprise took its place, but for all the wrong reasons.   The man’s body, standing, fallen or floating … was nowhere to be seen in the photograph.

     “I don’t understand, Frank.   Honestly, there was a man standing in the doorway right there.    Oh, My God … ”  Mary stared in total disbelief.   She would swear to God in heaven that the door was still open when she had just now arrived in front of the photograph, but, in the blink of an eye, not only was the image of the man who had seemingly fallen from the doorway to the ground no longer in the picture … the door itself was no longer open.

   Then Mary had a worrying thought which made her glad she hadn’t already mentioned the events that had happened to her before the creature had attacked her. Her mind suddenly reminded her that the image could not have changed position under any circumstance.   She was looking at an everyday image reproduction from a computer printer, not from some hi-tech equipment that allowed a video to exist on what appeared to be a photograph.   This was simply a single frame photograph, not a video recording.   She could not have seen a body changing positions, such an action would be impossible … it had to have been a trick of the mind.   It was now obvious to her whatever had happened to the body had happened in her mind, and nowhere else.   However, Mary’s attempt to accept that in reality her brain had been receiving fake news, her mind still refused to capitulate.   It was no good arguing with herself, Mary eventually decided, because she was still absolutely certain that she had seen something, but had what she had seen been real … or fear induced illusions, she had no idea.   But whatever had caused it, had indeed caused it.   What she needed to do now was work out why … and how.

   However once she had accepted the fruitlessness of chasing the unanswerable question, Mary was now left with the thought that if she had only imagined initially the figure silhouetted in the doorway, and then later lying on the ground … if she had only imagined those two events … then did she only imagine what happened when she tried to leave the room – when she became frozen – when the voice had spoken to her … or were they too just tricks of a frightened mind?    Mary’s mind was beginning to feel crowded with self-doubt and she knew that she had to fix this problem as fast as she could before it got completely out of control. 

   “I am sorry, Frank.   I must have been confused after the concussion.    I am not really certain what I saw.”   Lucy said with a shake of the head, but inside her heart she didn’t believe a word she was saying.   She had seen someone standing in the picture … and she did see someone lying on the ground.   She knew she had a lot to mull over in the privacy of her own time, but at the moment she felt subtly to be the best action.  And besides everything else, she had been attacked, she had been injured, and Frank had witnessed that and rescued her.   So if that part was true then why can’t everything else be true … and the bigger question, she thought, was why was she attacked in the first place?    In her mind she felt certain that at some stage the truth of today’s events would be revealed to her, but for the moment she just had to bide her time and retain her strength and courage.   And once again she wondered what Johann P Biggs had got her into.

********

Episode 30 Chapter 28 Part 2:

Mary had been never once taken her eyes off the photograph from the minute she first noticed the disappearance of the body she had intended to show Frank.    Frank in the meantime, once he realised that whatever Mary was going to show him was now not going to appear, walked back to the coffee machine and made them each a coffee and was in the process of handing a cup to Mary just as her thoughts came to an end.

   “You’ve had a very strange and exhausting day, Mary.   Perhaps you should rest for a while and let your mind clear things while you sleep.   The hotel is just down the road.   I’m sure that you can get a room, and it you tell them that you have a migraine or something they will let you get early access to a room.   When you wake up I am sure you will feel much better.”

   “Thank you, Frank, but I really have to go to the farm today.   I’m fine now.   I’ll be alright.   However, before I go, you were telling me earlier about the visitors who asked you about the farm, and how to find it.   Who were they?”

   “Well, there were two men and a very pretty young woman in here just before you came in who were after directions to the farm.    But that’s all they wanted.   I had never seen any of them before and they really didn’t say anything.   One of them went to the loo and the young lady never said anything while I gave the other one directions.   A couple of days ago there had been some foreigners … and the scary looking gentlemen in the big limousine.”

   “Tell me about them please, Frank.”

“Well the fellow in the big fancy car said he was from some museum or other.   I didn’t catch where it was, somewhere in London I think he said, but I am not really sure.   I don’t think that he told me his name, only wanted directions.   I’d recognize him if I ever saw him again, though.   He was a little fellow – about five feet five tall I reckon – and that could have been around his girth as well.   Like a little beach-ball he was.   And I really shouldn’t say this, it’s not nice to ridicule unfortunate people, but his face really suited his body.  I have never seen a man look so much like a pig.   His nose was thick and snoutish, his eyebrows were so bushy you could have used them to paint a house … and he snorted.    I’m not joking with you.   He actually snorted.”

   Mary couldn’t help a smile at Frank’s description of the visitor.  “I expect that I would definitely recognise him should I run into him,” She noted,   “What about the others.”

   “There were five other men that came the same day … arrived a few hours after the fat man.   Their faces made me think that they were foreign, the same as the fat man, but the way that they were dressed and spoke made me think that they were probably from London because their accents were not much different than yours.   One of them called himself Raji, and he did most of the talking for them.   He asked a lot of questions about the professor that had rented the farm, and the events that had taken place at the farm, and the village itself.   I couldn’t help him much with the professor as I don’t know anymore than I told you about him, but he seemed perplexed when I answered his questions about the farm.”

    “Did you tell him the same as you told me?”

   “No, not quite so much.   Didn’t see the need to embellish it for them.   Just said there were some strange sounding noises coming from the farm that drew me outside and that was when the light appeared next to the farm.   Then I told them about the heat and what had been told to me by some of the other villagers who had lived a bit closer to the farm and had been burnt.   And then I mentioned that the police had found the carpet still burning when they arrived at the farm the following day.   When they heard this they all became slightly agitated and Raji had to yell to get them to shut up.   He only asked a couple of questions after that and then they left, but they seemed to be heading back to London at high speed rather than the farm.   Guess I must have put them off somehow.

   “What burning carpet?”   Mary asked, slightly perplexed with Frank’s apparent lack of detail with his story telling.

   “Oh, sorry, did I forget to mention that.   Old Laurie told me later that the police had found a fire burning in one of the rooms.   The lounge room I think he said it was.   Well, it weren’t really a fire as much as a lot of embers still glowing on the carpet in one part of the room … and the fire brigade couldn’t put them out.   But they said there was no problem – there was nothing to catch fire from them and they would burn themselves out in a day or two.

   Nobody had any idea how the fire had started … or what may have been burning in the first place.   Perhaps somebody had dropped a cigarette on the carpet and hadn’t put it out properly when they had left the house.   There wasn’t much in that old farmhouse to burn as far as I can remember.   The walls were all solid brick, the windows were high on the wall, coming down just below head level they were, and the curtains barely dropped an inch below them, so they wouldn’t catch fire if the carpet was smouldering away.   ‘No need to have curtains reaching the floor and getting all dirty.’ Missus O’Shaughnessy used to say, referring to her family,    ‘Not with this lot bringing in more dirt and mud on their boots that a pig could wallow in for a month every time they come inside.’    When the police arrived the next day, the house was wide open, but there was nobody at home.   The police were aware of the professor’s predicament by this stage, so they thought the brother may have gone to the hospital to visit him, so they left him a note to call them when he got a chance and left.  The police figured if the fire brigade weren’t worried about the burning embers, then they had no reason to worry either – so they just left everything as it was.   Well they must have been right because the house hasn’t burnt down yet.”

   So why was this Raji so worried about the fire?”

   “I have no idea.   When I described what had happened that night, much the same as I did to you, his face became ashen.   The others all broke into a babble of noise, but this time they did it in some foreign language so I couldn’t grasp what they were saying.   Mind you, I had no idea what language they were talking, but it was no longer English, so I have no idea where they were from … or what they were saying … except…” Frank paused, while he forced his memory to put his tongue around something.

   “Except for the word Punj…Punjin …something like that.” he finally said,   “This Raji snapped at them at this stage.   I think that he told them to be quiet, but it didn’t work for long.   Less than a minute past by and they began to become agitated again as I described the events of the night.  When I finished telling them as much as I knew the one called Raji thanked me, confirmed that he knew the way to the farm, and left.  The others followed, their voices still babbling away excitedly.   But like I said, when he left he went the wrong way.   I would have loved to know what they were going on about.”

   “Interesting.” Mary said softly to herself.

   “Punjanti!   That was it.” Frank suddenly yelled out, giving Mary a fright with the volume and excitement of his voice.

   “God, you frightened me, Frank,” Mary asked slightly thrown off balance by Frank’s sudden excited outburst,   “What is Punjanti?”   Some kind of Indian food?”

   “No, no … sorry.    Punjanti.  ‘The Punjanti is coming.’   That’s what they said when I told them about the fire.”  They sounded both terrified and excited at the same time.”

   “Any idea what it meant?”

   “I have absolutely no idea, but it sounds a bit exciting when I think about it now … would you like another coffee?”

   “Yes, please.   Mind you, I think that I’ll be floating shortly with so much caffeine in my system.   Frank, do you have any idea why all of these people wanted to go to the farm?   Or what the police found at the farm beside the fire?”

   “The strangers?   Curiosity, I suppose.   The story was reported on B.B.C. radio the next day, and some of the major newspapers a day or so later, or so I was told, but all of the reports were just small articles making humorous suggestions about U.F.O.s landing in a small village in the middle of nowhere to get directions when their G.P.S. blew a fuse.   I don’t think many people would have taken the stories seriously, except perhaps for a few of the extremest conspiracy theorists and U.F.O. chasers, though none of the visitors that I told you about seemed to fit either category.  Perhaps they were just interested for personal reasons.  

   We had a similar thing happen a few years ago when it was reported that a flying saucer had been seen landing in the fields of a farm here in Trenthamville..   It turned out to be a mistake by a newspaper who had named the wrong village in their story.   And on top of everything the story itself was a fake anyway.   The story had been written in a way to encourage hundreds of Ufologists to rush down to Trenthamville where a sci-fi movie was getting a world premiere the day the story broke, but of course it was in a different village.   I can’t remember the name of the village, nor the name of the movie, but I do remember the nutters that arrived.   Nearly drove us mad they did.   When nobody had a clue what they were asking questions about, the nutters all thought it was a conspiracy that the whole town was involved in and began offering money for information on the whereabouts of the U.F.O.   Mind you,  the pub and the local food shops and cafes did a roaring trade … until somebody realised where they should have been and they were all gone within half an hour.

   You know, when you think about it, there was not that much to report about the other night because outside of the weird feeling the strange light gave out … and a couple of dead birds, oh, and the heat of course, but outside of that there was nothing too far out of reality.    Remember, nobody actually went to the farm that night, so nobody was close enough to see the origins of the light … or the heat for that matter.   They might still have some of the old searchlights that were stored at the farm at the end of the war.   Perhaps the professor was performing some kind of experiment and used the searchlight.   The army used to camp on the farm during the war in case German paratroopers dropped in.   Didn’t think they produced that much heat, just a very bright light, but I’m no expert, I wasn’t even born then.  Could have been a searchlight.   I don’t know if anybody checked on that.   I might mention that to Old Laurie when I see him next.   You never know.   Can’t see why they were chanting though.

   Anyway, everybody was watching from quite a distance, and as far as I know it was only Old Laurie that even thought about taking a photograph.   Mind you, he was the only one in the village that could take a photo because he was the only one who had a telescopic lens attached to his camera.    Most of the villagers still have Box Brownie cameras – and it would only be Old Laurie, Malena and myself that could add any spice to the event by mentioning the witches … which of course we didn’t.   So you wouldn’t expect the reports to cause a huge spike in the tourists arriving in the village for the weekend.   Just the regular visitors from London is all that I expect will turn up today.   There will always be the possibility that some conspiracy theorists and U.F.O. chasers may turn up, but I think that those three are all that we will see, if indeed that is what they really are.” 

   Mary had been surprised by Frank’s comment regarding regular visitors to Trenthamville.   She had never even heard of Trenthamville before she overheard Joseph’s conversation with his friends the previous evening, far less think of it as a tourist mecca in rural England.

   “Just the regular ones?   Do you get a lot of regular visitors here in Trenthamville from London?”

   “We get quite a few visitors from the cities who do come here most weekends,   Almost thought of as locals some of them.   Been coming here for years.   They reckon they need to get away from the city for a few days every week, but aren’t interested in buying weekenders or hobby farms.   ‘Distracts from our reason for being here in the first place.’  They say,   ‘Have no intention of hobnobbing on the weekends with the same crowd we see all week.   And no cooking or cleaning or gardening.   Just lazing around, enjoying the food, the grog and the company of the local community.    And there are plenty of things that we can do or places to go to if we want to get some fresh air.’

   But they still like the comforts of the big city in their food, drinks and sleeping accommodation though …  and the Rat and Mouse offers that.   Good quality food, rooms and service at a reasonable price, and best of all, they get the peace and quiet they seek, but have the advantage of becoming involved in organised events should they so wish.   A few of them may be a bit curious after the radio reports and want to go to the farm, but there won’t be many I bet.”

   “Does Trenthamville really have a lot of things to interest tourists, Frank?”

   “Yes, we do.    There’s good fishing spots and some old caves with drawings and things inside.   We have a cinema, but they only mainly show the classics from the forties and fifties which a lot of folk still like to watch.   There’s a public golf course that was built primarily for the tourists, and of course the old buildings are pretty popular.  There are a lot of things to do and see and there is always somebody in the village that is willing to take the tourists on free private tours.”

   “Sounds good, Frank.”   Mary agreed, though her tone appeared to be unconvincing,    “Frank, tell me what the police found at the farm – and what they said about it in a bit more detail, would you?”

   “Well there’s not too much more to tell that I know of.   Old Laurie is a good friend of Inspector Riley’s and he told Old Laurie, who told me, that the police just had a quick look around the farmhouse the morning after the lights had been seen following reports they had been receiving around the same time as they were advised about the professor’s current predicament.   The police were aware that there were supposed to be two people living there, however the house had been left wide open when they arrived which meant that the other occupant probably wasn’t too far away and would, most likely, arrive home shortly.   They had only gone to the farm when they had begun to get reports of the strange light the next morning, and because the door was open they could see the embers still burning on the carpet.   They could easily see that the place was not going to suddenly burn down, but they called in the fire brigade anyway.    While they were waiting the inspector received a call from a representive of the family who described something of value that was stored on the farm and requested that the police searched for it which they did.   however whatever it was they didn’t find it.   They waited for a little over an hour and when the professor’s brother still hadn’t come back they decided that they would return at a later date.   The police left a note for the absent occupant saying that they had been there to check on things, and to tell him where the professor had been hospitalised in the off-chance he wasn’t aware of the professor’s condition, though they were fairly certain that he already knew and had probably gone to the hospital to visit him.   They also mentioned the fire, advising him that it was deemed to be safe for it to keep smouldering until it burnt itself out according to the fire brigade.   He could give them a ring if he had anything he wanted to discuss, or if he had any information regarding the professor’s current condition.

   Like I said earlier, they would have to wait to talk to the professor’s brother to find out what had been going on the previous night.   As far as the police were concerned there had been no crime committed there and they couldn’t do much about the fire. They found nothing suspicious outside the house where the light had supposedly been coming from except for a couple of dead birds, so they just went back to the station.   As far as they could make out there was some sort of mystery about what had taken place, but without evidence of any kind that is all it was … a mystery.”

   “Not a particularly curious division of the police force I assume?”  Mary commented with a tone of sarcasm in her voice.  “Weren’t they concerned about the open door?”

   “No.   Most people don’t bother with locking doors … unless they are trying to avoid someone and pretend that they are not home when an unwelcome visitor arrives.    Not a lot happens around here.   There is virtually no crime, except for the occasional silly things that teenagers get up to now and then.  And even they don’t get up to that much.   There’s not that many of them anyway.   So the police here are a bit more cautious about becoming involved in things that don’t make a lot of sense.   Better to wait and see what happens next, rather than rushing into something they have no clue about.   That’s the way they think.   Things usually work themselves out in the long term.

   I guess the professor was lucky that he was found lying on the roadside a few miles away from the farm and got to the hospital in time.   But he has been in a coma ever since he arrived there.”

   “You have a hospital … here in Trenthamville?”   Mary asked in surprise,   “I thought you meant he had been taken to one of the larger cities, or perhaps even London.  Is the village big enough to have a hospital?   From what I saw as I drove in the village doesn’t look like it would provide enough patients to keep your good Doctor James in business, never mind filling a few hospital wards.

   Frank chuckled at Mary’s disbelief.   “Oh,” he replied, “this is the end of the village, or the start if you prefer.   As you travel out of town on the other side of the business area you will see it is well populated.   There are quite a few houses you can’t see from the main road because they are on the other side of the farms that run parallel with the main road.   We have enough patients spread about in the outer village and farms to keep several private practices open, but the hospitals are a bit unique.  Actually we have two hospitals, or at least we did have two.”

   “Two?’  Mary said in total disbelief.   “Why?”

   “The war gave them to us.”  Frank explained, “The Defence Department purchased an old private country manor and converted it to a hospital for the war wounded.   The Boar war that is, somewhere to give the soldiers a chance to recuperate in a peaceful environment before they were sent home to their loved ones … and to keep the poor sods as far away from the public for as long as they could while they recovered.   It was used again in the first world war and the government purchased another manor and turned it into a hospital as well due to the high number of injured servicemen.    After world war two the government closed down the second one and turned it into a museum and shrine for all wounded and fallen soldiers, but they decided to keep the one in the village open as a still operational hospital and it was still operating as a military recovery hospital until the fall of the Berlin wall.  

   By that stage it was decided that there were enough facilities in more appropriate locations for the time being, but it was retained as a hospital-in-waiting should it be required for full operation again.   The Korean War continued for years after the end of the second world war which meant there was a steady flow of servicemen using the facility for quite some time … and the cold war which had started almost at the very conclusion of world war two didn’t come to a stop for forty five years.   The threat of nuclear bombs being dropped hung over British and European skies daily for years, and even when the walls did come down the powers in parliament realised that the chance of future large scale wars would never really vanish … they could return at any time in the future.   And if nuclear carnage ran riot through the big cities, the country hospitals would be needed in a hurry.   They would need it to become operational the minute that the doors were opened.   So a decision was made to retain it as a working hospital with some part time and full time staff to meet the needs of the villagers, but secretly there are annual visits by government staff to constantly fit the hospital with the most up to date equipment and vaccines in readiness for the unforeseen.

   This is all hush, hush, of course, and I suppose that I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I do trust you, Mary.   Old Laurie told me in good faith … and considering what happened today, you never know … you and I may find ourselves both in need of the hospital.   So it’s best to know that it exists.”

“Is this were the professor has been hospitalised?”

   ‘No, he is in a private establishment about twenty miles from here.   Doctor James arranged for him to go there.   Some sort of specialist place, I believe, but I don’t know very much about it.”

   “Wow,”   Mary exclaimed, “this is certainly not turning out to be the day that I was expecting when I left London this morning.”   Inside her head Mary’s mind was spinning rapidly as images appeared of the previous evening eavesdropping on Joseph, her introduction to Gizmo, the creature, the strange events at the farm, Frank’s encounter with witches, and possible nutty ufologists about to arrive in the village to search for flying saucers … and now this revelation.   She looked at the clock on the wall and shook her head.   A mere three and a half hours had elapsed since she had begun the trip to Trenthamville … and so much had happened.    “How many people work at the hospital and roughly how many patients would be warded there when they were sick?”

   “There are not many on the payroll because it is usually only used for public health patients to see a doctor.   I know that I said that it is set up for full surgery should it be needed, and it is.   But it is not used for major surgery at the present, hasn’t been for years,not since the last serviceman returned home, and there are certainly no surgeons residing in the hospital.    Any patients requiring surgery are usually sent up to London.   The hospital is staffed by the doctors from our local practices who share a roster, including Doctor James.   It’s a free service paid for by the government, though most of the villagers still prefer to go to the private practices because it entitles them to home visits should they become necessary.   It is usually only used by patients who have broken a bone or two and need plaster casts, or have cut themselves and require stitches that go there.   Makes it easy for the private practices to not have to spend time on these type of injuries.   Sometimes kids have to stay in one of the wards for a couple of days or so.   When they break a leg or an arm and its hard on the parents to give the child the time and attention they need, putting them in the hospital makes it easy on everyone.   The same goes for the oldies if they catch something contagious or can’t easily be cared for at home.   In either case someone staying at the hospital for a few days or longer is a pretty rare event.  If the event is serious, or expected to be long term they are transferred to hospitals more conducive to their needs.

   There are around a dozen nurses who work full time at the hospital sharing the workload over a week,  but for eight of them their duties are mainly to answer phone enquiries from government departments, usually to perform some test checks on various pieces of medical equipment, and to monitor the cleaning and gardening staff.    For the remaining four, two of them are used on the day shift for processing outpatients as well as assisting the doctor-on-duty as required, while the other two do either the early morning or the evening shift in case of emergencies.

    When a patient is admitted to one of the wards some of the nurses who are on call to the larger hospitals nearby are seconded to help out, so there is a nurse on duty twenty-four seven … though that doesn’t happen very often.

    Most times the hospital is virtually only open for the tourists that go there to view the building itself and the gardens.  There are group tours that originate from the hotel and take the tourists to both buildings, the museum and the hospital, along with a few other places of interest …  or you can simply turn up for a do-it-yourself tour as long as there is no emergency taking place … which, to my knowledge, has never happened.

   “A lot of the tourists like to see the grand old buildings of yesteryear, and it is certainly a grand old lady, so it has been authorised as a limited access tourist destination as well as a hospital.    The museum is more restrictive in space because there are a lot of artifacts from both the village and various wars on display.   A lot of the grandeur of the house is lost because large chunks of it are hidden behind the displays, so you can’t see a lot of the internal architecture.   But the hospital here in the village, well it is something different.   it is a lot bigger than the museum, and even with the incorporation of the hospital necessities into it, it still retains the feeling and resplendence of times past when things were so much different than they are today.   Although there is restricted access to some areas in the hospital, the walls and ceilings still reek of history and wealth.   The punters always agree that they have enjoyed the day a lot more when they have been to the hospital and seen what once was.   There is very little going on there most days and we are not talking hundreds of visitors arriving at once – usually between six and a dozen.   The hotel always rings the hospital before they let the bus set off on the day’s tour to ensure there will be no problems, and the occasional self-driving tourist has never yet caused any trouble.   Within reason all visitors are allowed to roam around as they see fit.   Any of the rooms where the surgical equipment is stored is fully locked and any areas deemed to be dangerous, or not for public viewing , are also closed off, and that includes the wards if there are no patients and no nurse on duty.   But it is a big house with an equally beguiling garden.

   In my humble opinion the hospital is one of the most beautiful and bewitching Gothic structures there is still left in the British countryside.   I certainly recommend that you drop in and see it before you go back to London.   You can’t miss it as you drive to the farm.   Just go up the road a bit past the pub and then turn down Trentham Lane and follow the signs.   I’m sure that you will like it.   Built to protect the original owner it was – with huge gargoyles on the roof facing north, south, east and west so they could warn the owner of intruders from any direction … or so the local historians tell it.

   “This sounds very interesting, Frank, but who was he worried about?   Who wanted to attack him?   Did he have enemies?”

   “You have so many questions, Mary.  You should have been a policeman, sorry, policewoman.”  Frank said with a grin, “Sorry, I can’t remember all the details.   The owner was Lord Trentham, the man this village is named after.   It was all his property once.   Time has lost a lot of the verbal history, though there could still be written thing like diaries and other records in the building somewhere.  When the hospital staff moved into the building one hundred plus years ago they stored a lot of things that belonged to the house, but nobody quite knows where … and it is a big building, with lots of hidey holes.

   Big … it’s even got its own church and staff quarters built in.  It was supposed to have a staff of forty living and working in the grounds and the house when it was built.   All the farms around here were once part of the property and he was working on a plan where the land would be subdivided into farms that would be run by the workers, but he would have an overall interest in their harvest.   The plan was that he would help them in the bad times – then share the rewards during the good times.

   Eventually, once the farms had been running at a good profit for a couple of years the farmers would be allowed to purchase an outright ownership of their farms, paying for it through a slightly increased share of the profit going to his Lordship.   Once the farmers had paid what Lord Trentham decreed to be a fair price to him the deeds would be transferred to the farmers.    It was a good thing that Lord Trentham’s wife and children were just as charitable because Lord Trentham never got the chance to see his great plan work out the way he so wanted it to.  He died a week before the first combined crop came in.

   “Oh, that’s a shame.   He sounded like a good man.   You have my interest up, Frank.   I’m not sure why, but I feel like I need to know a bit more about your philanthropic Lord Trentham.   I just might follow up your suggestion and go to the hospital.   Perhaps I will learn more about this Good Samaritan of yours.”   Mary asked with a twinkle in her eye, “And beside that I love spooky old buildings.   Does it have any ghosts that still roam around the halls at night?   Does Lord Trentham still reign supreme at midnight on a full moon?”

   Suddenly Frank’s face went pale. and his voice was sombre as he spoke.  “Mary, I’ve just remembered something about Lord Trentham.   About how he died all those years ago.

   As he spoke, Mary could feel a cold shiver run up her arms and along her spine … and once again her mind wandered to Johann P Biggs, and what he was really getting her involved in.

********

Episode 30 Chapter 28 Part 3:

THE LEGEND OF LORD TRENTHAMVILLE

“What do you mean, Frank?”

   ‘I had almost forgotten the old people’s tales … the supposed folk lore of Trenthamville.   I only just remembered it this very moment.  I don’t know if I knew about the legend when I first met Malena that night in the woods,but your question brought it back into my mind.   Perhaps the legend was true – maybe it is coming back again.   It could be after anybody if it does exist … and that includes you and me.

   “For goodness sake, Frank, you are scaring me half to death.”   Mary said with a hint of laughter as she decided that Frank was just having a lend of her by pretending to be petrified.   “What are you talking about?   What may be coming back?  ‘The Creature from the Black Lagoon’?   ‘The Mummy’?   ‘The Tax Man’?”

   Frank looked hard at her in reaction to her words; to her little joke and Mary expected to see a slight smile attempting to hide on his face, instead she swore she could see flickers of real fear in his glazed eyes.   “Something evil supposedly existed in Trenthamville several hundred years ago.”   Frank began hesitantly, his eyes still glazed: distant,   “Legend has it that the owner of the house, Lord Trentham, admitted that he had signed an agreement with someone he described as demonic, though folklore fails to mention just what he had gained from the contract… or what he had given in return.   But he ended up considering the price to be paid was too high and he had reneged on the deal.   The partner in whatever arrangement Lord Trentham had made grew angry at his change of heart and guaranteed revenge if he did not keep his promise.  He gave  him thirty  days to change his mind and honour the contract, or pay the penalty.   Lord Trentham swore on the bible, on his life, that he was going to murdered for his principles, but he was not going to give in.   He employed one hundred guards to protect him.   They were stationed in every vulnerable position around the house that could be used by the assassin.  They were positioned on the roof facing every single direction the attack could come from.    A magic spell had been placed on the gargoyles to ensure that they too watched for the arrival of his nemesis twenty four hours a day – seven days a week.   It would have been impossible for his enemy to arrive at the house and not be confronted by the guards or seen by the gargoyles.”

   “And did the partner come?” Mary snapped almost immediately Frank stopped talking to catch his breath; the tone in her voice sharp … much sharper than she had intended, but Mary’s brain was telling her it was over.   Too much information had been stuffed into her brain, and too much action had pushed too much fear into her heart for the moment.   She just wanted the story to be over.   She really needed to leave … to get to the farm before it became too late to catch Joseph.   And most of all, to give her brain some ‘Me Time’.   Mary badly need some time alone in order to begin to understand and take in all that had happened today.

   However, her barbed enquiry had no affect on its recipient.   Frank simply shrugged his shoulders before he spoke, but the darkness never left his eyes.   “Nobody knows.   Three weeks after he took every possible attempt at self preservation and safety, Lord Trentham disappeared – never to be seen again.”

   Mary was disbelieving.   “What do you mean … disappeared?   Do you think he was murdered and his body removed and buried somewhere?  How?”

   Frank didn’t say a thing for a moment.   Instead he stared at Mary.   His eyes penetrating deep into her very soul, as if he wanted to control her intake of every single word that he uttered … and it worked.   Mary said not a word … instead she simply nodded her head in agreement to his unspoken demand.   It was as if she had a connection with his mind and understood the importance of what he was about to tell her.

   When Frank began to speak again, every word, every syllable, was emitted in a crisp, clear voice.

   “Every window, every entrance, every possible way of moving in and out of the house was covered by the guards.”   He began,   “Nobody could get in through the doors, through the windows or via the roof, without being seen by the guards or the gargoyles … if they really were given magical powers.   Not even Lord Trentham’s wife could get near him once they had both gone to bed.   He and his wife had different sleeping arrangements, originally due to his snoring, and more recently because he had developed a compulsion to absorb copious quantities of alcohol prior to going to bed.   The story has it that Lord Trentham began to drink in abundance every evening a little over two months before his disappearance.   The separate bedrooms had been in force for quite some time beforehand due to Lord Trentham’s inability to restrain his snoring, however their sleeping arrangements had little to do with their love for each other and visits to each others rooms occurred frequently, but the visitor to the room always returned to their own rooms once the lovemaking was completed.   It was only when the drinking began that a new rule was introduced and strictly enforced.   If he had been drinking excessively before he retired for the night, her bedroom was totally off limits .   The room was fitted with a secure door and it was locked from the inside as soon as she entered room in the off-chance that Lord Trentham became violent should his rights as a husband be denied when he was in an alcoholic induced state of insanity.   Lord Trentham was not a violent man by nature, and his intake of alcohol over the years had been very moderate, but during this unprecedented time of increased drinking they both new that things could go horribly wrong. 

   He would not, or could not, explain to his wife what was going on in his mind; why he was drinking, but he introduced the amplified set of rules so his wife would never be at risk of a failing of his mind or his self control due to intoxication.

   On one particular night the wife retired to her bed at around ten o’clock which was her normal routine.   Prior to her departure they had both been sitting comfortably on the soft, black velvet covered sofa in the lounge room, enjoying each other’s company, sharing softly spoken words of endearment, and exchanging the odd pieces of gossip they had heard from the staff and the villagers.   Although they had been seated in the room for well over an hour and a half, Lord Trentham had only poured out the second of his drinks just moments prior to her leaving the room.   What had surprised the wife the most about the unexpected pleasantries of the night had been a two fold difference in the way Lord Trentham had consumed his drinks.   Firstly, the two vessels had held far less liquid than on a normal night … and, secondly, he had sipped on the drink rather than swallowing the entire contents in one swallow as had become his way.   His wife had thought it best to refrain from questioning her husband as to why this unexpected change in his drinking habits was taking place.   The night had been far too pleasant to spoil by making comment about the only thing that had ever come between them and perhaps spoil the magic that encompassed the room.   ‘Far better to just give a him a smile that expressed her happiness’, she thought as she departed the room, ‘and a kiss to remind him of what they could have again – than to unintentionally release words that could suppress the beautiful changes that were coming.’   But at the back of her mind, she did wonder why the sudden change in him had occurred,

   Nobody knows what time Lord Trentham retired for the night because all of the servants had been dismissed for the evening.    The following morning his wife, as was her habit, went to his bedroom to advise him that breakfast was being prepared.   She knocked on the door and called out his name, but got no response.  She called out to him again and again and she still could not get a reply from him.  She tried to open the door, but quickly found the door to be locked from the inside, and still no reply from her husband.   Fearing he was ill or injured and couldn’t reply or unlock the door the guards were called and after a massive effort, and a couple of large axes, they smashed down the door.   And when they did finally gain entry to the room they were confused; perplexed..   The door twisted as it crashed off its hinges, twisting and falling backwards into the room so the front was now the back, and the back was now the front.   As they lifted the heavy wooden door upright and placed it against the wall they could see the large key still stuck in the keyhole; a key that was bent and twisted as if it had passed through the hottest furnace in all of Britain.   Every window was protected by thick metal bars which were all intact.   But there was no sign whatsoever of Lord Trentham … all they found inside his bedroom was a small patch of charcoal smouldering on the carpet … just like they found at the farm.”

********

Episode 30 Chapter 28 Part 4:

The journey continues

   “What are you insinuating, Frank?”   Mary snapped angrily,   “That Lord Trentham set fire to himself and literally burnt to a crisp?”   Mary did not know what to make of Frank’s story.   ‘Surely he’s just making all of this up,’ she thought, ‘just trying to tell me a spooky tale to give me a fright?’   After what she had confided in him, she felt betrayed by his telling this type of story.    He should have been more thoughtful.    It was one eerie story too many.   He knew that she was trying to suppress the pain and suffering her mind had received after being dragged through a strange, and still unexplained force that had threatened both her life and her sanity.    He should simply have been sympathetic and kept his sadistic sense of humour to himself. 

   Mary began to become angry.   She could feel her temples begin to throb,and then her cheeks were getting hotter and hotter by the second.   Suddenly everything became too much for her.   The anger, the fear, the disbelief in what she had been through in but a few short hours swelled and boiled up inside her … boiled and boiled and boiled …and suddenly it was no longer palatable and needed to be unleashed.   The pent up emotions, the fear, the frustrations no longer tolerable; no longer able to be restrained – Mary let loose, using all of the anger that currently resided within her mind and attacked Frank with all the venom she could muster.

   “This is totally unnecessary, Frank, totally cruel,”   Mary screamed at the man who sat beside her,   “To make up a story like this when you know how vulnerable my mind at the moment is an absolute disgusting thing to do.    Are you trying to make me believe that some supernatural creature runs amok in the village of Trenthamville.    Probably in league with the local witches , no doubt.  Do you think that I am a fool … that I will believe all this hokum you have been telling me?   Am I just a big city idiot in your eyes?  Well I don’t care what you think.  I have had enough of all this.   I have been mentally scarred by something in this village,and I was almost killed by it.   Well, by God, I intend to find out just what it was.   But I will do it without your help, Frank.   I’m off!”   

   Mary could feel the tears forming in her eyes as she began to get off her seat and leave, but despite the strength of the momentarily hatred thrown at him, Frank remained calm.   It was almost as if he had heard her words, but not the tone as he replied,   “I’m not insinuating anything, Mary.   And I am not trying to hurt you in any way.   I am just telling you what was told to me when I was younger, and those that told me the legend swore that they were repeating it word by word as it had originally been told to them when they were younger.   They said Lord Trentham’s wife had the story, as she told it, printed for historical reasons, but always lived in hope that someday he would return and the mystery explained.    Nobody knows for certain what happened to the printed book, but it is believed that it is probably still in the hospital somewhere gathering dust.   That is why I said that you may find things of interest there to help you understand what happened today.   There have been strange things happening in the village over the centuries according to local folklore, but I am certain that there were just as many, if not more events that have happened in every other village.  I’m sorry if I made you cry, Mary.   I thought that you might like to know a bit more of the village history.   I was concerned for you when I found that creature attacking you, but I had no idea what it was, just as I had no real idea how to handle the situation, or how to calm you down should it be necessary.   And when you showed just how strong and brave you are, I felt relieved and thought that it might help you accept what happened to you without too much concern knowing  that you weren’t the only participant in the strange happenings in Trenthamville over the centuries … I mean, at least you are still very much alive, and just as pretty as when you first arrived in the village.

   Mary stared dubiously at Frank , but once again his cheeky grin got under her guard, her mood softened, the tears stopped running, and a soft smile began to cover her face.

   “I’m sorry, Frank.   I really did believe that you were just being nasty.   You didn’t deserve that injustice.   I guess I was more stressed out than I thought I was.  Perhaps I do need to share what happened, or at least what I think happened, while you were outside on the driveway.”

********

 When Mary finished recounting the strange, frightening experience that she had undergone Frank’s face was ashen.

“My god, Mary, you poor thing.   I had no idea.   I think that is good that you have opened up about it.   I thought that my night with Malena and what she told me about the witches was a horrific thought to carry around in my head.   What you have just told me just now has my brain spinning.   I think that I would be an absolute mess if it had have been me.   I have no explanation to offer, and, in truth, I am a little scared.   I’ve never seen anything like that thing that attacked you before, and I have worked here for years.   Though there was that strange cut on my hand … maybe it has something to do with the photograph?   But how can a photograph hold a creature inside it that can come and go as it pleases.   i don’t know … it’s all too weird.”

   “How did they explain Lord Trentham’s disappearance, Frank?”

   “They didn’t, really.   Officially it was stated that he had gone to London to do some urgent business, but he had never arrived at his destination.   There was speculation that he had met with foul play and may be lying dead in a forest somewhere, or perhaps he had arranged his own disappearance for some reason unknown to anybody save himself.   It was even suggested that he had developed a terminal illness and had gone overseas to see out his remaining days rather than to stay home and live in the discomfort of knowing his wife would be heartbroken watching him grow sicker and sicker every day.

   Of course the guards and the wife knew different because they had seen the room and knew that it would have been nigh on impossible for him to have left the room leaving it locked from the inside, and extremely hard for him to leave the house without being seen by one of his own men.    They had no idea if he was dead, alive, or somehow turned invisible and muted, or what had really happened, but they knew in their hearts that he had never left the room.”

   “What about the fire on the carpet.   Did they not query that?”

   “When they lifted the door to place it against the wall they found an extremely damaged, and totally lacking in fluid, oil lamp lying on the floor.  The lamp was damaged beyond any usage whatsoever, and it was twisted and warped in a manner similar to the key.   They wondered if the lamp had been somehow broken, perhaps dropped, whilst lit and its leaking contents spilled out onto the carpet and that was what was burning.   Then they dismissed this theory because they doubted the heat of the oil would be intense enough to do what it had done to both the key that had been in the door, and the carpet which was still smouldering.   However the wife placed a new light on things when she mentioned her husband had obtained a new product from a stranger passing through the village.   It was some new kind of flammable liquid which promised to not only light up the room with an intensity of one hundred individual lamps, but the user could adjust the wick on certain lamps to allow more heat into the room.  Nobody had heard of this before, but as it was Lord Trentham’s wife that was telling them what he had told her, they had no reason to dispute her, and accepted that this new wonder oil was to blame for the lingering flame …. and the damage done to the key and the lamp itself.   However, explaining the lamp’s involvement in the fire did little to understand what had happened to Lord Trentham.

   Lord Trentham was both a popular and wealthy man, and a man well known by politicians of all persuasions mainly due for his charitable work and his vigorous attempts to give equality to the common people by giving them a leg up wherever, and whenever, he could.   The strange circumstances surrounding his disappearance, combined with his unexplained fear of being murdered over the weeks prior to his disappearance led to a quietly run official investigation under the authority of the current Prime Minister who had also initiated the fake reports regarding Lord Trentham’s disappearance.   

   The ‘magician’ that had cast the spell on the gargoyles was brought in for extensive questioning.    Some members of the enquiry board had believed he had had an argument with Lord Trentham over the payment of the magic he had cast over the gargoyles and had used his magic to kill Lord Trentham.   Zapped him into a thousand particles now floating in the sunlight, they had thought, but they couldn’t prove anything and he was eventually expelled from the village.   Lord Trentham had been a very popular man in his own village, especially after the land grant he had set up for the villagers, and the village elders were worried that some of the villagers would take the law into their own hands regardless of there being no proof of the magician’s guilt .   The magician had been expelled for his own safety.

   Others suggested the thing that he feared so much was not human, but magic itself and had been able to transmogriphy itself at will.   They believed that it was able to absorb himself into the wall and re-emerge on the other side … and it was this that had killed him.   Took him to hell and left the burning ash as his calling card to warn anybody else that may be serving him that was also threatening to renege on their payment.”

   Mary thought about all that Frank had told her and it distressed her.    ‘This day is doing my head in.   I’m going to retire for the day.   Get my head sorted out.   Whatever Johann P Biggs is going to pay me … it will never be enough.   He, on the other hand though, is easily getting more than his money’s worth.   Only it would seem the mystery here, and what fate is having me curious about, is not what Joseph is doing … it seems to be more of what is happening in this village.  Because something is going on, and I wonder if Frank’s witches have conjured up more than they can handle?’

   “Frank, I’ll tell you a secret this time, but you must keep it a secret.   Promise me?” She said quietly.

   “I Promise.” Frank replied instantly.

   “You know the three people who were in here earlier today – the two men and the woman?”

   “Yes.”

   “Well, I am actually following them.”

   Frank gave her an astonished look, but she ignored it and continued.   “I don’t know the full story.   I am just curious.”   Mary was unaware that she was blushing slightly as she began her pitch.    “I sort of have an interest in one of them.   I just happened to overhear a conversation that the three of them were having last night, and I got the feeling that the girl is involved in something to do with their trip to the farm.   Now, I could be wrong, but I think that the professor may be her father, though I am unsure what she and the two men are actually doing there at the moment.   What I do know is that she is with Joseph.   And, they too mentioned the name Raji and the Punjanans or, at least, it was something like that.   Sounds like a pop group doesn’t it?” she giggled as she laughed at her own little joke.   “Anyway, it sounded very similar to the word you used.    “What was it again … Punjanan? … Punjatana …?”

   “Punjanti.”

   “That’s it.   Punjanti.   That sounds very similar to the word that they used.   I’m sure there’s a connection there to everything that is going on around here at the moment.   But what is it?   Well, I guess we will find out soon enough.   Anyway I need to catch up with them so could you please give me the directions to the farm, Frank.   I really have to get going,”

   “And this… Joseph.  Is he the one that you are interested in?”   Frank asked as he began to sketch a mud map on a blank page of paper.

   The question worried Mary for a second or two, it was not one that she had expected, but the tone in his voice seemed purely inquisitive and she felt safe in assuming that curiosity was all that it was.   Mary realised her apprehension had most likely been brought about by the events of the day and she hoped that the rest of her visit to Trentamville would  prove to be far more relaxing … though she had her doubts that would be the case.    “Yes.”  She replied with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

     “He is a lucky man if you are showing interest in him.   You are a mighty pretty and courageous lady.   Does he know how you feel?”

   “Not yet, but he soon will, Frank, he soon will.”   Mary said with a smile.

   “Well, here’s your map, its pretty rough, I am afraid, but it’s not really hard to find.   You should have no trouble finding it.   It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mary.   I hope that our paths cross again before you go back to London.”

   “Thank you, Frank.  It has been lovely meeting you as well.   I hope that all goes well for you, and I will definitely drop into see you before I leave the village.   But, Frank, just before I go I have a favour to ask of you.   Would you be able to arrange a meeting for me with your friend Old Laurie”

   Frank was a bit hesitant, but Mary was insistent.   “Come on, Frank.   There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said with a large puppy dog smile on her face, “I’ll be with you.   After all I have a vested interest in this too, especially after the thing in the photograph tried to kill me.   And wasn’t he the one that brought it to the garage to be hung on the wall?”

   The garage attendant hesitated for a second, but when he considered the truth of the words she had used, and stared into her soft, innocent eyes he finally relented and agreed to meet her at around five at the hotel, and Mary was on her way, but not before she had one last rueful glance at the photograph on the wall.   This time she saw no demons, but it still sent a shiver down her spine

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Go to Episode 27