Grave Girl (11 page)

Chapter Nine

"There will now be a reception event at the cafe in the town square," says Mayor Winters, once the funeral service has come to its conclusion. "A selection of sandwiches and drinks will be on offer, and we have exclusive use of the venue until 5pm. Alcoholic beverages are not included in the free buffet, I'm afraid, but may be purchased separately. Finally, I would like to thank you once again for coming today to mark Ethel's passing and to celebrate her life. It's at times like this that I'm reminded of the enormous sense of community spirit in Rippon."

As the small crowd begins to disperse, Sam makes her way over to the familiar figure who has remained silent during the entire service. Dressed all in black, Anna keeps her gaze down as she turns to leave, almost as if she doesn't want to make eye contact.

"Hey," Sam says, approaching her cautiously.

"Oh, hey," Anna replies, turning to face her. It's pretty clear that she's pretending not to have noticed Sam during the ceremony. "How are you doing?"

"Not bad," Sam says. "So was this your..." She turns to look over at the grave. "Your... someone?"

"A friend of my grandmother's," Anna says quickly. "I've known her since I was a kid. I guess it's a bit stupid to have come..."

"Not really," Sam replies, realizing she doesn't have much to say. "I'm sorry for your loss," she adds after a brief pause, although she immediately regrets even coming over to speak to Anna at all. She just saw a familiar face and assumed she'd be able to maintain a conversation.

"No-one really liked her," Anna continues. "All the people who came today, they're just hypocrites. Half of them even think she poisoned her husband. When it got out this morning that she died of a heart attack, people kept joking that they didn't think she even
had
a heart. I suppose they thought that was funny or something." She pauses for a moment. "She'll probably just go straight to hell."

Smiling, Sam turns to look back at the grave. "Well, I dug the first six feet of the way for her."

"I have to go," Anna says, a hint of uncertainty in her expression, "but it was cool seeing you again."

"You too," Sam replies, watching as Anna turns and hurries away across the grass. She can't help noting that there's something a little strange and hesitant about Anna, as if she's constantly nervous.

"Making friends already?" asks Mayor Winters, wandering over from the other end of the grave.

"Not quite," Sam replies.

"You'd do well to stay far away from that one," he continues. "She's nothing but trouble, like most of the youths in this town. She's one of those disreputable young ladies who likes to get blind drunk of an evening and spend her time flashing her underwear to boys." Taking a deep breath, he pats Sam on the shoulder. "So you'll be able to fill in the grave without any problems, I take it?"

"Sure," Sam says, staring at the crowd as they make their way to the gate. Anna, in her haste to get away, has already disappeared out into the street.

"You seem rather lost in thought," Mayor Winters continues.

"I'm fine," Sam replies. "It's just that there was this old lady who came around yesterday, asking about the service, but she doesn't seem to have shown up today. She seemed really keen."

"You know what these people are like," the mayor says. "They can be rather forgetful. Don't worry about it too much. Just make sure to pat the grave down firmly and then see if there's some grass-seed in the shed. The gravestone won't be along for a few weeks, so let's just keep the place neat and tidy until then."

Once the mayor has left, Sam starts the long job of shoveling the dirt back down into Mrs. Mayberry's grave. The first spadeful makes a dull thudding sound as it hits the wood of the coffin, sending a brief shiver down Sam's spine.

"Not bad," she mutters to herself. Just as she's about to go over to the cottage, she spots a figure moving slowly between the gravestones, and she realizes it's the old lady from yesterday. Sam watches as she makes her way to the graveside.

"Am I too late?" the old lady asks after a moment.

"The service just finished," Sam says. "You can go to the cafe in town, though. I think they're having some kind of reception service."

"Oh..." The old lady pauses, looking a little confused. "No. I suppose it'll be okay. I suppose, in a way, I was late on purpose. I didn't want to hear all the nasty things they said about her."

"No-one said nasty things," Sam replies.

"They didn't?" The old lady looks genuinely shocked. "I suppose they wanted to seem respectful," she continues after a moment, "but they were all thinking it. They all know she's going to hell."

"I'm sure she's not."

"Oh, she is," the old lady continues. "Trust me. When they say she killed her husband, they're right. She was sick of the old bastard, so she swapped his heart medication for some ordinary pain-killers. She did it on purpose, with the sole intention of driving him to an early grave, and it worked. He didn't deserve it, of course."

"Wow," Sam says, a little stunned to hear that such dark things have been going on in this sleepy little town. She pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

"Where's the gravestone?" the old lady asks suddenly. "Is there going to be one?"

"It's coming later."

"I should hope so. It wouldn't do for the grave to remain unmarked. There's something unholy about a grave that doesn't have a marker, as if the body is to be hidden in some way. Of course, one could understand them deciding they just want to forget about her, but still..." He voice trails off, and she seems close to tears.

"The gravestone's definitely coming," Sam says, trying to reassure her. "I think these things just take time."

The old lady stares at the grave. "You did a good job," she says eventually. "You made it a nice shape. It's one of those simple things that one never thinks about, but I suppose it can't have been easy. The lines are all straight and the angles seem to be correct. I'm rather impressed, to tell you the truth."

"It took a while," Sam replies. "I spent basically the whole of yesterday and most of this morning trying to make sure it was right. And now I have to fill it all in again."

"Seems a shame to waste all your hard work."

"It's not really a waste. I'll probably get a lot quicker after a while. This was just my first one. Maybe I'll see if we can get hold of one of those big machines for digging holes. I don't suppose the budget's big enough, though."

"Well, you're doing a fine job as it is," the old lady says. "I think I'll just sit here and rest a little. The walk here was quite tough on my old bones, but one has to make the effort." She looks over at the next grave. "That's my husband," she says wistfully.

"Right here?" Sam asks, looking down at the headstone. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"Oh, don't worry about that. He's been gone for a while now. It was so horrible when the place was overgrown. It was like nobody cared. I can't tell you how grateful I am that you cleaned up the mess."

"It was nothing," Sam replies.

"It was something," the old lady says, making her way over to the bench.

"I'm sure your friend isn't going to hell!" Sam calls after her, but the old lady doesn't reply. Sighing, Sam turns and heads back over to the cottage, figuring she might as well grab something to eat before she starts the rest of her work. Once she's in the kitchen, she starts cooking up yet another pot of beans, while reminding herself that she needs to start coming up with some better meals. As she butters some bread, she glances out the window and sees the old lady, sitting alone on the bench and staring forlornly at the grave. Reminding herself that she's glad she's not superstitious, Sam decides not to dwell too much on the funeral. It was just a body being put into the ground. Nobody's going to hell.

For the rest of the day, she gets on with her various jobs, while occasionally glancing over at the old lady and wondering if she's okay. Eventually, as the sun starts to set, Sam finds herself starting to think about closing the gate for the night. She looks over at the old lady, only to find that she seems to have vanished. Slightly confused, and convinced that she would have noticed the old lady heading to the gate, Sam double-checks that she's nowhere around, but finally she accepts that she's gone. Checking her watch and seeing that it's almost 8pm, Sam heads over to lock the gate. Still, she can't help but glance over her shoulder and wonder if there's any chance that the old lady could still be around somewhere. Eventually, she turns and heads back toward the cottage.

"Hey!" calls out a voice from the gate.

Turning, Sam sees Anna standing on the other side.

"Are you closed?" Anna asks.

"Sorry," Sam replies. "Did you want something?"

"I just came to give you this," Anna says, reaching through the gate and holding out a small paper bag, which appears to contain some kind of box.

"What is it?" Sam asks, reaching out and taking the bag. Looking inside, she's surprised to find a box of chocolates. "Is this for me?"

Anna nods. "It's a gift. Kind of to welcome you to Rippon."

"You don't have to get me anything," Sam replies, somewhat taken aback by this random act of generosity. She hadn't pegged Anna as the kind of person who'd do something like this.

"I know I didn't
have
to," Anna continues, looking a little awkward, "but I wanted to give you something. It must be so weird being stuck in this place all day, so I thought..." She pauses for a moment. "You like chocolate, don't you?"

"Yeah," Sam replies. "Thanks."

"I guess it's a little bit old-fashioned," Anna says, "and I'm sorry I couldn't think of something more imaginative. I just thought someone should do something to welcome you, and I know what people are like round here. Most of them won't say anything to you unless you fuck something up, and then they'll be all over you, complaining about everything."

Sam pauses, not sure what to say. "I'd invite you in," she says eventually, "but I'm not really supposed to have visitors."

"It's okay," Anna replies. "Anyway, I don't really have time. My parents are pretty strict about me being out late."

"Apart from when you sneak out at midnight with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend. He's just a guy I hang out with sometimes." Anna takes a deep breath and smiles. "Look, I really should get going, but if you ever have a day off and you want to hang out, just let me know. I live in the blue house next to the cafe. Just knock on the door sometime. If you want to, I mean."

"I will," Sam says.

"And -" Anna pauses. "Earlier, when I didn't want to come into your little house, I hope you didn't think I was being rude. It's just that..." She pauses again. "There are stories about that place. I know they're stupid, but it's so easy to let yourself get caught up in things."

"What kind of stories?" Sam asks.

"Nothing much. Just stupid stuff, really."

"Come on, tell me."

Anna sighs. "It'll sound dumb," she says after a moment, "but people say that... Well, some people say that the Devil lives there. Or he's buried there, or something like that."

"He is, is he?" Sam asks, turning to look over at her little cottage. The place looks so innocent and sweet, it's hard to believe that anyone could ever believe anything bad about it.

"Like I said," Anna continues, "it's dumb. I shouldn't have let it get to me."

"Well, maybe you can come in some other time," Sam replies.

"Cool." Turning, Anna runs off along the street, leaving Sam standing with the box of chocolates in her hand.

Chapter Ten

With the sun setting in the distance, Dr. Wellington sets out for an evening walk. He's always been the kind of man who likes to stretch his legs after dinner, and tonight he's feeling particularly restless. Whether it's the business about Mrs. Mayberry, or the sight of the youths conspiring with one another so brazenly in the street, the doctor feels that he can't possibly settle down for the evening until he's taken a good long constitutional. If nothing else, he aims to tire himself out by walking up some of Rippon's steepest streets.

Lost in thought, he eventually reaches the town square, where the cafe is packed as usual. Spilling out onto the cobbles, various revelers are sipping from their pint glasses, while music blares from within. Although he's tempted to stop and seek the company of his fellow men, the doctor decides to keep going. He keeps to the far side of the square, moving through the shadows and making sure he can't be seen. Eventually he finds himself alone once again, walking slowly along one of the narrow streets that cling to the side of the hill upon which Rippon is built.

Eventually, and quite by chance, he finds himself approaching the cemetery. It's far too late to go into the grounds, of course; besides, he has no particular desire to go wandering between the gravestones at such a late hour. Instead, he merely stops when he reaches the gate, staring through at the rapidly darkening garden. He notes with satisfaction that the place has at least become tidier now that there's a new gardener, even if he finds it hard to believe that a young female gardener could possibly keep up with the demands placed upon her. As he watches the cottage, where a single light illuminates one of the windows, the doctor finds himself wondering what would possess someone to take up such a thankless job. Young people, in his experience, prefer to be out having fun, and they generally lack the necessary dedication and stamina to take on such a tough and physically demanding job.

After a moment, he spots some movement over on the other side of the cemetery. To his surprise, he sees a figure sitting on a bench next to the far wall. Squinting, he struggles to make out the features on the figure's face, but he's fairly certain that it's an elderly lady. For a moment, he considers calling out to alert the gardener that there seems to be someone still in the cemetery, but finally he realizes that there's little point raising the alarm. He's quite certain that the gardener must be aware of the old lady's continued presence, even though it's well past the 8pm closing time by which all visitors are supposed to have left. As he continues to peer at the distant figure, the doctor tells himself that the entire matter is really none of his business, and that he would risk making himself seem foolish if he were to start hollering and trying to attract attention.

As he turns to resume his walk, the doctor suddenly becomes aware of a faint trembling sensation coming from the ground. He looks down and realizes that the cobbles of the street are shaking every few seconds, almost as if something heavy is coming closer. It's the same unusual vibration he's felt a couple of times over the past few days, except this time it's stronger and more urgent. Sensing movement nearby, he looks up just in time to see a huge dark shape come lumbering straight at him, barely visible against the dark of the night sky. Before he has time to react, the doctor sees the dark shape step straight past him and over the high wall of the cemetery, making straight for the old lady on the bench.

Not wanting to see any more of the night's arcane events, and wondering whether it's entirely safe to be out so late, the doctor turns and hurries away as fast as he can, heading for his house. Whatever's happening in the streets of Rippon tonight, he'd rather just lock his door and wait until morning.