Second Night (37 page)

‘And presumably it was the same someone who took all the blood out of the wardrobe and wrote 666 across the stage in the studio this afternoon,' added Melanie.

‘It gets worse,' said Sara. ‘Take a look at the latest online.'

Jasper sat down and dragged the computer across to his side of the table. He studied the screen, frowning. ‘
The ocCult of the Crone? Over 40's Only?
What crap is this?'

It was a single page of pictures and captions that ballooned individually on a click. The central picture had been taken from the school play poster that had generally been voted the sexiest poster ever. On one side, Tairmair Folpham hung on to his brother's arm under the caption:
Lock up your mothers.
The opposite caption wavered over a black and white photo of a queue of old ladies gazing up at his naked back:
Lock up your grandmothers.
An image of a ravaged henhouse in one corner, labelled:
Lock up your chickens,
spurted blood over a photo cut-out of the white face from the Hallowe'en party superimposed on a man riding a donkey. The spectral green side caption was entitled:
The Headless Horseman.

Three more captions popped into existence as the mouse scanned the page:
He doesn't do drugs (ever heard of steroids?); he doesn't do food (when did anyone last see him eat?); he doesn't do booze (crones are known to be insatiable).

The banner across the bottom of the page announced
The Can't Let Go Club
with pictures of
Too Sad to Kiss Kerys
,
Poor Cow Hayley
,
Dumped Frump Melanie
and
Jilted Julia
. A
Vote No
button invited an immediate negative response to the question:
Is Caz Wylde Cool?
One hundred and eighty-nine votes had been recorded.

Jasper looked around the table. ‘So how long has this pathetic piece of propaganda been circulating?'

‘A couple of days, apparently,' Sara answered.

‘It's not one of your bad jokes gone wrong, is it?' asked Jemima suspiciously.

He stared at her, completely injured. ‘What are you on, Sibyl? This is bro we're talking about.'

Sara looked bemused. ‘Sibyl?'

‘Well, what else am I supposed to call her? I can't go on with “Oi” and “You” and meaningful silence. It just doesn't fit. I've had to bow to the boss on this one, Stat. Don't make it any worse.'

‘I prefer Lady Sibylla,' said Jemima archly.

‘And I prefer Sibyl. It's either that or Bill.'

Jemima sighed. ‘I'll take Sibyl.'

‘Who's the crone?'

‘You know, that weird woman in the smelly shop. The one Bindweed used to have tarot card lessons with.'

‘The fairground-fortune-teller woman?'

'Yes. According to Bindweed, she's a devil worshipper and he's had a secret thing going on with her for the last two years.'

Jasper was too incredulous to laugh. He yelled. ‘What?'

‘She told Lauren,' said Melanie. ‘And Jen told Julia.'

‘That's got to be the dumbest load of drivel that's ever floated out of that feeble little flap of a mouth! What does bro say about it? What's he doing getting his picture taken with an old crone anyway?'

‘He said she was going on at him again about hiring the ballroom for nature-nut conferences when he was in town last Saturday,' said Jemima. ‘Whoever's done this must have taken the photo then.'

Maddie drank water and swallowed headache pills. ‘I'm worried about him, Jas. I'm worried about this meeting as well. It was the headmistress who called me, not the secretary. I'm sure they're going to have the truancy officer there. I think they mean business this time.'

Jemima's eyes widened in alarm. ‘You can't go to prison, Ma! You can't!'

‘Don't panic, Sibyl! Bro will charm the pants off old Ma Gerson, no problem.' Jasper groaned and flapped his hands to ward off the heat of the immediate and communal glare. ‘Sorry, sorry! A simple slip of the tongue! What I meant was that bro will get away with it as usual. Why's everyone so jumpy all of a sudden?'

‘Because someone's really got it in for Caz!' shouted Jemima. ‘Or haven't you noticed?'

Jasper shrugged. ‘It's just some ugly kid grabbing a chance to shine. Bro can take care of himself. Who do you know that would even think of taking him on?'

‘No one by themselves,' said Tristan.

‘No gang stuff either. I'd think twice about taking him on now.'

‘There's another thing,' said Melanie. ‘Kerys, Hayley and Julia have all gone offline.'

‘That's okay. They‘re better off keeping their heads down for a couple of days.'

‘No, they've gone offline to us, Jas. They don't want to know any more passwords.'

He raised both eyebrows. ‘You mean they've jumped ship? They've just walked out of the epic of our lives without even one fond farewell? Even Kis?'

Melanie nodded. ‘She's always been the one who really couldn't let go.' She pointed to the screen. ‘This was too much.'

Jasper pushed back his hair. ‘I feel my youth departing.'

‘I told you it was bad,' said Sara.

‘I'll get Loz to fancy her. It'll keep the family tidy and cut out Ginswill.'

‘Ah, she's just a bit of easy nookie, Jas,' said Tristan. ‘It'll go glacial soon enough.'

Jemima hunched her shoulders and stared furiously at the table. ‘Too much information!'

Tristan looked awkward. ‘But it's not sizzling, Jem.'

‘Isn't it the same thing?'

‘No.' He appealed to Jasper. ‘It's not, is it, Jas?'

Jasper rolled his eyes and ignored him. ‘We won't change the password yet. We'll give them a chance to change their minds. How about you, Milky?'

‘I'm okay,' said Melanie comfortably. ‘He told me to marry Tris.'

Tristan looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed. ‘Caz said that?'

She nodded.

‘And what did you say?'

‘I said okay.'

A huge grin crinkled out from the corners of his mouth and raised his eyebrows right up to his hairline. ‘Hey! Magic Man!'

‘So who's the enemy?' asked Jasper generally.

‘I would say it's female,' said Sara.

Jasper nodded. ‘Me too,' he agreed. ‘A woman scorned, most likely. How's Titan taking the breakup?'

‘Definitely dodgy,' said Melanie. ‘But I can't see her stooping as low as this.'

‘What about Ginswill? She does that Goth page.'

Melanie shook her head. ‘Too close to Loz, and it's not her style.'

Jasper's eyes narrowed. He tapped the side of his nose enigmatically. ‘So I'm asking myself, do all trails lead back to Bindweed? Has she made a stink in cyberspace with the workings of her puny little pea brain?'

‘Peabrain's too thick to sort out something like that, Jas,' said Tristan. ‘She's always been thick, even when she was a little kid.'

‘But not too thick to have one of her mates put it together,' said Melanie.

‘That's it!' exclaimed Jemima. ‘She's done it! I'm going to kill her!'

Jasper patted her head. ‘Calm down, Sibyl, let's get a few facts sorted before we go for the guns. Bindweed's not worth swinging for.'

Jemima smacked away his hand. ‘Then she'd better keep out of my way, because this time she might be worth it, Jasper Wylde, she just might!'

For a moment she bore more than a passing resemblance to Daisy at her most ferocious. Jasper looked away, determined not to laugh.

CHAPTER 64

A man was pedalling a bicycle enthusiastically down the drive. Sara recognised him, Caz didn't. He reined in Freyja and nodded to Sara to do the same with Nanna. ‘Put her in behind us.' The mare took several steps backwards in the direction of the rhododendron hedge, placidly chewing her bit as the bicycle sped past.

‘Thank you!' the man called cheerfully. ‘Lovely morning, isn't it?'

A minute later the old tractor appeared and pulled up beside the horses. Jasper had a shotgun beside him on the seat. Tristan sprawled in the back of the empty trailer, equally armed. He rolled over flat on his stomach and lined up the sights with Caz's head.

‘Bang!'

Freyja snorted and lunged at him over the side of the trailer her teeth narrowly missing his ear.

‘Hey! I didn't mean it,' he protested. ‘It's not even loaded!'

‘Yet!' said Jasper, patting the box of cartridges beside the gun.

‘Live or blank?' asked Caz.

‘If I tell you I'll have to kill you. Good ride Stat?'

Sara's smile was radiant. She leaned forward and patted Nanna's neck. ‘It's been absolutely wonderful! I just love it, and the forest is magic this morning. I'd never realised there was so much of it, or maybe it's just different when you're on horseback?'

‘Did you see Al?'

‘He's south of the Beech Walk,' said Caz. ‘You'll see the smoke.'

He shook his head almost imperceptibly in answer to Jasper's querying look.
No, your woman doesn't know about Thunderslea, bro, and she won't want to hear it from me.

‘Who was that on the bike?' he asked.

‘That was the Holy Hornet,' said Jasper emphatically. ‘Otherwise known as the Right Reverend Adrian Windlesham. You must have seen him in the pub?'

‘No. How did he get in here?'

Jasper raised an eyebrow. ‘What diligent gentleman of the cloth could possibly resist a personal invitation to check out the boss of the local pagan outpost?'

‘Who invited him?'

‘As you know, Ma and Daisy are currently convinced that the old man is about to burst every blood vessel left in his head, not to mention his heart, which does not bode well for the future for any of us.'

‘You mean Ma let him in?'

Jasper nodded. ‘Met him at the gates herself, she did. Of course, he
just
happened to be there when Tris arrived to report for sentry duty.'

‘It wasn't me that told him,' said Tristan.

‘Her excuse was that it might calm the boss down a bit. I think they were hoping the hornet might be able to persuade him to give up wearing his sword, at least when he's in the house.'

‘And did he?'

‘The dear old chap was still tripping himself up over it ten minutes ago when we parted. And as you can see, any subversive maternal plot to similarly disarm us evidently came to grief at the same time.'

‘How come the old man didn't think he was an agency spy like everyone else?'

‘I have no idea.' Jasper adjusted an invisible eyepatch and peered at them down his nose. ‘My dear Mister Jasper, I have discovered a fellow classical scholar! We've had a delightful time discussing Heracles.'

Sara laughed outright.

Tristan giggled. ‘Spot on, Jas!'

Caz shook his head. ‘I can't believe it was that easy. I can't believe he let Ma talk him into it. Where did she get a crazy idea like that anyway?'

Jasper lowered his voice. ‘I'm told on good authority, and Tris and Stat will back me up here, that since our return from the wilderness in the west this particular hornet has been getting into the habit of buzzing around the pub with a degree of alarming regularity, and not because he's a sot.'

Tristan nodded solemnly. ‘And not because Creeping Jenny's giving it all she's got either.'

Being ‘village', Tristan was fully conversant with all the plebeian pseudonyms accorded to most of the individual inhabitants, both flattering and otherwise.

Caz looked from one to the other, horrified. ‘Oh no!'

‘Exactly,' said Jasper.

‘She wouldn't, would she?'

‘Think about it, bro, it's not unknown territory, is it?'

‘You mean Grandpa Chenoweth.'

‘Exactly.'

Tristan sat up. ‘You mean your other granddad's a vicar? Cold blood!'

They both ignored him.

‘But she gave all that up years ago,' said Caz.

‘So? It's all about roots, bro, and therein dwells the danger. Plus the Wrong-Revved-Up-Adie-Wheedleshame has got red hair,' he added significantly.

‘That's all we need,' said Caz gloomily. ‘Hopefully the old man won't fall for it a second time. '

‘Unfortunately it would appear that he already has.' Jasper cleared his throat impressively and beamed upon them generally, exactly mimicking Sir Jonas's expression when he had good news to impart. ‘I have told the Reverend Adrian to come again and to stay for tea next time.'

‘You've got to be joking!'

‘How I wish I was.'

CHAPTER 65

The road wound steadily downhill all the way to the village. Adrian Windlesham put on a spurt, peddling hard. The church clock began striking the hour as he passed the old, thatched barn tucked in among the trees opposite the path across the meadow to the river. He liked old buildings and he had meant to stop and have a look at the place. But there were never enough hours in the day for everything that needed to be done, and he was painfully aware that he was getting a reputation for being late. The parish helpers' meeting was scheduled to begin at eleven. This time he calculated he would be eight minutes overdue, which was regrettable, but he had found Sir Jonas to be perfectly charming, completely in contrast to what he had been previously led to expect.

I will most definitely call again
, he assured himself, not admitting to any ulterior motive that might induce him to become better acquainted with the old man and the manor. He heard the commotion in the street as he parked his bicycle in the little shed behind the rectory cottage.

Jack Poole and Simon were standing outside the pub. The parish helpers were crowded anxiously on the steps at the village hall, where Louisa Renfrew continued to look superior while Fig Petter wrung her hands, moaning helplessly, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear!'