Petronella & the Trogot (2 page)

Drawing back her net curtains a little, she found the courage to peep out into the darkness. It looked like he wasn't around. There was no more noise. Questions started spinning round in her head: What could these letters mean? Who was that man? Why had he given the note to her of all people? What was she supposed to do? She could do nothing there and then. Off to bed she went, to sleep on it. Maybe the answers would come to her the next day when she could think straight.

 

 

Maalox woke up very early that particular morning. His sleeping place was on a broken armchair next to Petronella's bed. When he wanted to wake her up, he sat on her head. But, not this morning. He gave himself a quick lick clean, darted to his saucer of milk under the spiral staircase, then went to the coal scuttle to see if the skull was still there. Yes, it was! Maalox pushed the cat-flap outwards with the top of his head, jumped out and headed towards the village in long strides. There was no traffic in the High Street except for Fred the milkman on his rounds. Mrs Bellamy, at house number 49, was already nosing behind the net curtains of her front-room window, in her dressing-gown.

Fred crept up the garden path to Mrs Bellamy's brass milk rack. He tried to deliver her milk without being seen. If she started nattering, she'd go on and on forever. Headache. But the house-proud gossip had already opened her newly-painted white door to ask Fred if he could leave a carton of fresh orange juice and a pound of butter as well as the usual milk. Her husband was the village constable and he needed a hearty breakfast before he went off on the beat. She always got breakfast ready for him with joy because she loved to get him out of the house and have the place to herself.

”No prob, Mrs B,” said Fred.

“Did you see that ugly witch prancing about at the village ball? God only knows what she gets up to in that cottage of hers, in the woods there where no-one can see her. I wouldn't be surprised if she's brewing up potions and putting spells on us. Mark my words, they'll be trouble round here before long. This village isn't what it used to be.”

At this time in the morning, Fred just couldn't stomach Mrs Bellamy's natter. So, as she was talking, he started creeping backwards towards his float, while nodding to her all the time. As he was doing this, Mrs Bellamy spotted Maalox sneaking by on the pavement across the road.

“And he's up to no good either,” she shouted after Fred as he'd just got into the driver's seat for the great escape.

The bacon, eggs and sausages were already sizzling in the pan when her husband came downstairs. She was still obsessing about Maalox: “That woman's cat was prowling about this morning, looking as if he was up to no good.”

“I wouldn't worry about it, dear,” the Constable said, “it's only normal for cats to be out early.”

“Not for that cat to be in the village, it isn't! He's up to no good, I tell you. You mark my words.”

Constable Bellamy munched his last piece of toast, washed it down with a cup of tea then flew out of the front door, saying he'd be late for work, if he didn't hurry.

While plodding to the Police Station, he saw Maalox going into Farmer Giles's field. The cat disappeared round the back of the marquee. When Maalox thought nobody could see him, he clawed into the brown peat in the same spot as the night before. He soon came across a neck and shoulders, and dug carefully around them to free them of the soil stuck to the bones. The torso was now completely dug up. It must have been the second part of the skeleton whose head was in the coal scuttle. The weight of these bones was too much for Maalox to carry. He went into the marquee. In the corner, near a cluttered table, was a food trolley. If Maalox got the torso into the marquee and onto the trolley, he could wheel it home. It was still early, and even the milkman had gone off to another part of the village. By turning the torso round and round and moving it forward little by little, Maalox managed to get it into the marquee. When he had pulled it up onto the lower-shelf of the trolley, he threw a table cloth over the whole lot, and pushed it back home, gripping the trolley handle in his mouth.

Maalox wheeled the bones to the snail bunker. The snails were busy feeding on leaves. He cleared them out of the way with his front paws. The torso was soon buried and the trolley hidden under some shrubs nearby. Probably, thinking that he had done a good morning's work, Maalox went to lie on the mat in the front-door porch. The rattling of milk bottles growing louder told Maalox that Fred was bringing their milk.

Fred wagged his finger at Maalox, saying: “You wanna watch it. Don't go getting yourself into any trouble, mate. That's all I can say. Belinda's not your kind, my boy. You know Blazh, that vicious stray, likes her, as well. He'll have your whiskers for garters, if you ain't careful.” And with that, the milkman went off back to his rounds.

Petronella was getting up. Hadn
'
t got a wink of sleep, tossing and turning in her bed all night. Her mind buzzing with that strange meeting she'd had the night before. Still had no idea what those letters stood for. Maalox jumped onto Petronella's bed and snuggled up against her: “Maalox, you are such a star,” she said, as she stroked his head. She might as well get on with her everyday chores - yet the sight of the black-hooded horseman kept haunting her mind. And then there was that black monster of a tree in her back garden. She knew the branches were never in the same place. The wind couldn't sway that strong thick wood.

The best view of that beast was from the spare bedroom window. The room where she'd piled up all the boxes, full of useless objects, when she'd moved. She didn't  know why, but couldn't stop herself. She had to go and see it. So she climbed the creaking stairs, then stopped on the landing for a moment. Yes, she would go in.

Creeping into the spare room she watched from a distance, as if she was afraid of being seen by the tree. She was sure its head had turned to face Charis Cottage and that it was looking straight at her. She dropped down quickly and hid behind one of the boxes. The tree's head seemed to have stretched out towards her, as if to get a better look at her. Two branches lifted out in front of it, like arms. Its hands turned inwards. Then its hands moved towards its chest, as if to say “Come to me.” There it stayed in that position for quite a while. Before dropping its arms down again.

When Petronella was sure it wouldn't move anymore, still keeping her head down, she made for the door. Once she was out on the landing, she locked up the room. She promised herself she would never go in there again. Never.

Back to her housework she went. Dusting, polishing and tidying up. She had to busy herself to keep her mind off the mysterious secrets of Charis Cottage and its woods.

 

 

Wedding bells chimed merrily in the steeple of the village church as the newly married couple stepped out into a shower of rose petals. The guests followed Molly and Jake to their reception in the marquee. Everyone in Fort Willow had been invited - except Petronella, of course. But, Maalox was there, amongst the cats sniffing about in the field round the marquee. Some cats had noticed the hole in the peat. Others gathered round to find out why all the interest. Maalox kept quiet. Looking down into the soil, he saw what looked like a human hand sticking out of the peat.

The other cats jumped in and started digging, too. Soon the hand was clawed free of peat and dragged up onto the grass for all the cats to see. Then they went back and started digging some more. They dug and dug bringing out more limbs, heads and torsos, lots of them: parts of human bodies to be pieced together like a puzzle.

Two bridesmaids sneaked out of the wedding reception for a breath of air. They strolled round to the back of the marquee for a good gossip and a giggle in private. They stopped dead in their tracks. To their horror, they saw this most creepy heap of bones. Clogged with soil and grass sticking out of them. One of the bridesmaids stood there as if frozen stiff. The other rushed back into the marquee screaming in shock:
“
Oh, God! God! I've just seen something disgusting: skulls, skeletons, bones everywhere!
”
The guests all hurried out to get a look. What a sight!

“We must call the police,
”
said one man,
“
this is the most gruesome thing the village has ever seen.”

A woman fainted and another one was sick, right there in the field. Molly and Jake stood still in terror. How could this happen on their wedding day? On what is supposed to be the happiest day of their lives? Their wedding reception had been ruined. People started sitting round the edge of the field to watch from a distance. The best man asked the guests to go home, but nobody moved. One of them said that a family had gone missing from the village, suddenly, overnight.
“
Could it be them?
”
Voices began spreading that the bones were for sure those of the strange Phillips family, whose son Phillip was suspected of torturing animals, and whose daughter, Alice, was the most spiteful girl ever to live in Fort Willow. A woman added that it is only to be expected that outsiders bring trouble to their peaceful village:

“I always said that Phillips family was strange, didn't I? If we didn't have new people here, we wouldn't have any crime at all. Look at that weird woman who lives in the woods. She's not one of us, is she?”

A couple shook their heads in agreement:
“
No, she certainly is not,
”
the husband said.

“And, have you seen that cat of hers,
”
added the wife,
“
I reckon it's a cross between a cat and a dog, if you ask me. The devil's doing.”

“Really!
”
exclaimed another listener,
“
I always thought that animal had the devil in him. After all, it can't be normal for a cat to be that size.”

“She's so ugly she could be the devil's wife,” shouted someone else.

Just about everyone had to have a say in this:

“Oh, my God! The devil's wife! You know she never goes to church on Sundays, she's out barefoot at night and in the pouring rain looking for bugs, mushrooms, snails...”

“Gathering all sorts of weeds, berries and the like, probably boiling up potions, conjuring up evil...”

“She's put a curse on us.”

“She put a spell on our village. She's brought evil to our village by waking up wicked spirits.”

“Yes, don't you all remember when she left the summer ball, she said she would put a curse on all of us...”

“She wants to spite us because Farmer Giles didn't agree to marry her. It can't be a coincidence that the bodies are right here in his field...”

Three of them bolted over to Constable Bellamy:

“Excuse me, officer. We wanted to warn you that there's this weird woman living in the woods who's really strange - you've got to check up on her. The Phillips family went missing just after she came to live here. She hated the two Phillips kids because they went to play near her house, and they'd hide and throw stones at her when she came out. Petronella's her name. Petronella Chewnik.
”
 

“Thank you,” Constable Bellamy said, “we'll look into it. We'll do everything we can within our power. I promise you.”

 

 

It was evening by now, Petronella was wondering where her cat had got to. Maalox was never late for supper. As she was thinking about going to look for him, he turned up.

“Maalox, where have you been all this time?” she said.

At the same time, a loud knock pounded on her front door.

Who can that be? Who would come to Charis Cottage? Not many people came to this neck of the woods. Was it that they didn't want anything to do with Petronella?
Or was it the black tree they were afraid of? She wondered. Whatever, Petronella would never understand this place.
She opened her front door a crack to see who it was.

“Hello, we're sorry to disturb you, madam,” began one of the plain-clothes detectives showing her his warrant card. “But we need to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.”

“Well, I'll help you if I can.” Petronella invited them in.

“Miss Chewnik,” Detective Chief Inspector Vettel began.

Petronella noticed that he knew her name.

The Detective went on: “we're visiting houses in the area, just routine work, you understand? We're carrying out investigations into the discovery of bodies. You might have heard about the bodies found buried in a field in the village. We'd like to know if you have anything to tell us, anything at all, which might help us with our investigations.”

“What! That's incredible, what, right here in this sleepy village?”

“Yes, some of the villagers said it might be a family who disappeared suddenly just after you came to live here.”

“Oh, my God. I didn't know anything about that. What family would that be?”

“The Phillips family. They had two kids...”

“I remember them very well. Awful children. Badly behaved. They used to come to here and shout nasty things at me:
‘
What are you boiling up today, hag?'
‘
Go away you ugly witch' ... things like that. Yes, horrid children. Thankfully they left the village soon after I arrived. Mind you, there are still a lot of cruel kids and adults here who hate me.”

“Do you mind if we take a look around your house and garden, Miss Chewnik?”

“Of course not, Inspector, please feel free.”

The house was inspected carefully, but the policemen didn't look under the coal in the scuttle. Petronella followed them out into the garden. Constable Bellamy drew the Inspector's attention to the snail bunker. “Over here, gov. Come and take a butcher's at this.” They stood around the bunker and saw all the trails of slime left by the snails glittering in the pale morning sun. They were so disgusted their stomachs lurched. The policemen left vowing never to go near that cottage again.