Legacy of Greyladies (24 page)

‘Can I go back and help fight them?’

‘No. You’ll be a hindrance rather than a help because your injuries will hold you back. But we’ll ask the major if he needs a lookout anywhere. Youngsters have sharper eyes than us old fellows, especially in the dark, so you can still make yourself useful.’

Joe nodded, squaring his shoulders and standing very upright.

When he was assigned an upstairs bedroom at the side, he proudly took his position there, ready to continue doing his bit.

The messenger arrived from Nev to say the other big group of attackers had gathered and were ready to start. As agreed, they were going to split up into smaller groups to attack
the various windows at Greyladies and break into the house from front and rear.

‘Are you all sure of what you’ll be doing?’ Hatterson asked. ‘You’ll need to—’

‘Of course we’re sure. And we don’t need you ordering us around. You aren’t in the army now, you know.’

‘But I have been.’

‘So have I. Where do you think I got this?’ The messenger held up one hand that had lost most of its fingers, with only parts of two digits remaining. He thrust it close to Hatterson’s face, making the other man flinch back. ‘
This
is what the Huns did to me and it’s why I’m here.’

He waited a minute, but there was no response, so he pulled back his hand. ‘Come on, Group D. Get yourselves into place. We’re all going to have some fun tonight and maybe pick up a few things we can sell,’ he called.

In consternation Hatterson watched them go and turned to his friend. ‘They’re intending to loot the place!’

‘Of course they are. No use letting useful things go to waste.’

‘It’s still thieving. I don’t like associating with criminal types.’

‘Get away with you. Those men will do what we want and he was right about one thing: We’re
not
in the army and
you
aren’t going to get the best cooperation tonight by using that tone of voice. The chaps are here because they
want
to get a crack at the Huns, not because they want to play soldiers.’

‘We’re not
playing
at soldiers. We
are
soldiers, unofficially. And soldiers don’t loot their own countrymen.’

‘Ah, what harm does it do to take things which are going
to be burnt anyway when we set fire to the house? You should look after yourself tonight and grab a few bits and pieces. I intend to see what I can find. As well as getting rid of a few Huns.’

From a bedroom window at the side of the house, Joe saw the group at the rear split up into three smaller groups. He rushed downstairs to where the major was directing operations. ‘The big group at the rear has split up, sir.’

‘The group at the front has separated into smaller groups, Major,’ someone yelled. ‘I can’t keep track of them in the dark.’

At that moment a horn blared outside. ‘Hoy! You inside,’ someone yelled.

Corin went to peer cautiously out of a front window. ‘What do you want?’ he yelled.

‘The Huns. We don’t want to hurt any British people, so if you send the Huns out, we’ll leave you in peace.’

‘Do they honestly think we’d do that after they’ve been heard boasting about burning down the house? It’s just an excuse to get the doors open,’ Corin muttered. ‘I shan’t even answer.’

When no response was made, the offer was repeated.

Still Corin kept silent.

‘Right. Since you refuse, we’ll come in and get them! Death to the enemies of Britain.’ It was easily recognisable as Hatterson.

Corin signalled to Captain Turner, who rushed off to his office to telephone for help.

Suddenly stones were hurled at the house from every vantage point and someone with a gun began firing it.

‘Mobs don’t usually have guns. What the hell are they doing?’ Corin muttered.

There was the sound of smashing glass.

‘Damnation! There goes another window. Thank goodness for stone window frames. We have to stop them breaking in until help comes.’

He didn’t add
if
it comes. He had to trust that the local commander would believe Captain Turner about the urgency of the matter and the size of the mob.

Hatterson had insisted on organising one particular job himself, even though most of the strangers were cynical about the information it was based on.

Well, he knew better. He’d overheard more than the villagers realised recently, because there was nothing wrong with his hearing. A couple of people had talked about a secret passage from the crypt to the big house, not as a legend but a fact, because that Latimer bitch had actually been through it.

So he’d insisted on two men armed with a bolt cutter being sent to cut off the padlock that was used to keep it locked. They were to open up the door into the crypt as soon as the fighting started. Then they were to look for the passage and enter the house when they heard him break in. The crypt wasn’t all that big. They were bound to find it.

The two men did as he’d told them and the padlock was quickly disposed of. They pushed open the grille, laughing.

‘Fat lot of good a door like this is,’ the older one muttered. ‘Anyone could break in.’

The other one shivered and stood still for a moment. ‘Is it my imagination or is it colder in here?’

‘Well, it’s underground, isn’t it? Bound to be. Where’s that electric torch you were given? Switch it on. The sooner we find that passage, the better. I want to be one of the first into the house, so that I can get my choice of the pickings.’

‘Ah, it’s a big house. There’ll be enough stuff to go round before we burn it down.’

‘Do you know what we’re looking for in here?’

The younger fellow nodded. ‘Yes, I do and Hatterson agrees with me. You have to find something to twist, like a bit of carving or a knob of wood, then a panel in a wall opens up. I read a book about secret passages when I was a lad, and that’s the way most of them work.’

They slowed down as they left the short passage and entered the main chamber of the crypt. Even the light of a modern electric torch didn’t seem to illuminate the big underground space very well. Shadows danced on the walls around them, shadows that looked like menacing figures shaking their fists. Of course they couldn’t be, but still, the two men moved closer to one another.

‘I don’t like this place,’ the younger one said suddenly. ‘It smells of death. I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘You’re not here to like it; you’re here to do a job.’

Just then they heard something move inside the crypt.

‘That wasn’t a ghost. Quick, switch that torch off and get down behind this tomb.’

There was a grating sound and a thin shaft of light shone out from the wall in a corner at the rear of the crypt.

‘Told you so,’ the younger man said. ‘It’s a secret panel. And they’re showing us the way.’ He laughed softly.

The older man took a hasty step back. ‘We’d better go and tell the others there’s a group from the house coming this way.’

But as they turned to leave, a light began to glow between them and the way out.

‘What the hell is that?’

As the light shimmered into the outline of a figure, the younger man wailed and yelled, ‘It’s the devil, come to get us! No, no! Go away!’ He crouched down, pressed against the box tomb, hands over his head as if protecting himself from blows.

When he wouldn’t get up, his companion tried to drag him towards the door.

But the first man from the house had got through from the tunnel by that time and he was from the village, so knew exactly who the glowing figure was. The light around it grew brighter, illuminating the two intruders nearby.

Bobbing his head quickly to the figure in a gesture of respect, the villager rushed across to grab the nearest man and yelled, ‘Someone get the other chap.’

Within seconds both men had been captured, and although the older one put up a half-hearted struggle, the other continued to wail and beg to be saved from the devil.

All the time Anne Latimer’s figure glowed steadily, giving them light to see by.

‘The devil is welcome to you, as far as I’m concerned,’ the group leader said, shaking the younger man good and hard. ‘Tie them up and stick them in a corner. We have a job to do.’

He bobbed his head again to the ghost. ‘Thank you, My Lady.’

The final men were out of the tunnel by then and once the intruders had been secured, the men from the big house made their way out of the crypt.

Behind them the light faded slowly, leaving the big echoing space in total darkness.

The younger intruder began crying for his mother.

The older one kept silent, shivering, wishing he’d never come, wondering what the authorities would do with him.

Several of the windows at Greyladies were smashed by now.

‘Time to take them by surprise,’ Hatterson said as his friend came across to join him. ‘Are you going to create that other diversion, Nev?’

‘Aye. I’ve got the fireworks ready. With a bit of luck one of them will set fire to the roof.’

‘It’s made of stone. We have to get
into
the house to set it on fire.’

‘Well, I hope you really do have a way to get in. You do your bit and I’ll do mine with the fireworks, like we planned.’

As the assault on the front of the house increased in intensity, Hatterson smiled in anticipation. He had a key to the rarely used back door of the laundry in the old part. It’d cost him a pound to buy it off one of the men in the village who had worked at Greyladies for a while, but been sacked for drunkenness. If it worked, it’d be well worth the money.

With some of his group creating an extra diversion by lighting a bonfire in one corner, he crept round to the laundry door. The key was a bit stiff but it worked. The door opened with a brief squeak. He doubted anyone
would hear that with all the racket going on near the old stables and the first of the fireworks zipping into the air.

As soon as the bonfire started burning outside, he moved quietly into the house, not bothering to exaggerate his limp now. No one would notice in the dim light how he was walking.

He beckoned to his companion to join him and they moved forward, avoiding the kitchen, which his informant had told him how to do.

He grinned as he peeped into the long hall and saw her.
Yes, you bitch
, he thought.
You’re going to pay dearly for housing those Huns
.

He wondered who the short fellow standing near her was. He hoped it was a new Hun. And who was the other woman? She wasn’t bad looking. He giggled softly as he wondered if she’d ever been taken by a one-legged man. If he got the chance later …

He and his companion crept round the side of the room, taking advantage of the occupants’ attention being diverted by the bonfire. As he’d planned.

Suddenly light began to shine on them. He cursed. What the hell was that?

It resolved itself into a woman’s figure. He didn’t believe in ghosts. They’d probably found some way of shining lights to fool the attackers, like they did in the theatre when they projected ‘ghosts’ on to a stage. He’d seen that done a couple of times now. It made the lasses scream.

But when he tried to raise the hand containing a club to thump whatever it was out of the way, he could only move slowly. Bewildered, he tried to act more quickly, but it was like stirring up treacle.

By then someone was calling out in a clear, bell-like voice. ‘
Beware of intruders, Phoebe and Olivia. Beware of intruders
.’

Ethel heard the noise and voices in the main room and looked at Cook. ‘They must have got in another way.’ She took out the gun. ‘You stay here. If anyone tries to get through a window, bash them good and hard.’

She slipped through the kitchen door and glanced round the room. She saw Mr Stein leave through the connecting door. He’d be going for help. But would it come in time? She’d spotted Hatterson now and the expression on his face was that of a man in a dangerous mood.

She’d seen men in pubs drunk and spoiling for a fight. He looked drunk on something else, hatred perhaps, from the bitterness she’d seen on his face when she met him in the village.

Well, he wasn’t going to hurt her mistress or those precious unborn children.

Neither of the men with him noticed her because they were gaping at the ghost.

As Ethel reached the group, the ghost began to fade.

‘Hands up or I fire!’ she shouted as loudly as she could.

Hatterson spun round and gaped at her then lunged towards Phoebe, hand outstretched to grab her. At the same time the man with him waved a knife at Olivia.

Ethel didn’t waste any time. She raised the gun and took careful aim.

Hatterson laughed at her. ‘Go on! I dare you. You’ll miss me by a mile and hit her. You probably won’t even dare fire that gun. You women are all cowards at heart.’ He’d got hold of Phoebe’s arm now.

At the same time his companion slashed his knife at Olivia. Alex stepped between her and her attacker, pushing her behind him, so Ethel left him to it.

‘Last warning, Hatterson,’ she said. ‘I know how to use this gun.’

‘Ooh, I’m scared.’ He tried to pull Phoebe in front of him and the wickedness in his eyes as he looked at her belly was the final straw.

As calmly as if she’d been firing at a target, Ethel aimed at him. She yelled, ‘Duck, ma’am!’ just before she squeezed the trigger.

Phoebe threw herself sideways, even though he still had hold of her arm.

The shot sounded so loud Ethel’s ears were ringing and she couldn’t hear for a moment or two. Then she stared at what she’d done. There was no mistaking what she saw.

Phoebe was free of him now and was also staring down at him, while rubbing the arm he’d been gripping.

‘I’ve killed a man!’ Ethel said, feeling sick.

‘
No, you’ve killed a madman and saved the lives of a woman and two children
,’ a voice said in her head. Anne Latimer. ‘
You had no choice
.’

Ethel turned to see Major Latimer striding across the room, also with a gun in his hand.

Only then did she allow herself to drop the gun and plump down on the nearest chair, trying to control her nausea.

To Olivia’s relief, the major moved towards the man threatening them with a knife.

‘Get back, soldier, or I’ll hurt them!’ the man yelled, still
waving the knife about wildly. ‘You’re not capturing me.’

‘Drop that knife,’ Corin said quietly but firmly.

‘If you come any closer, I’ll hurt your friends. If you let us all out, I’ll release them and not hurt them.’

‘You’re going nowhere.’

‘Then neither will they!’ He surprised them by slashing out again with the knife.

Alex couldn’t duck out of the way of that blade, and though he protected Olivia, he earned a long cut on his left cheek before Corin could pounce on his attacker.

Even then, the man clung to his knife and was big enough to make it difficult to subdue him.

None of them noticed Mr Stein creeping across the room. He picked up a vase and darted forward to smash it over the knife wielder’s head. The knife fell from the man’s hand and as he stumbled to his knees, groaning in pain, Corin grabbed one of his arms and twisted it behind his back.

By then two of the men from the village had followed the major in from the front of the house to help them and they took charge of the man.

‘Are you all right, Seaton?’

Alex’s voice was muffled by the handkerchief Olivia was using to staunch the blood.

‘I think he’ll need it stitching,’ she said quietly. ‘Hold still, Alex darling.’

He looked at her with such love that her breath caught in her throat and for a moment or two they both forgot the danger they were in.

Then Corin reminded them. ‘I think we’d better regroup in the new part of the house.’ He raised one hand to salute
Ethel. ‘Well done, lass! I’d not have been in time to stop that madman. Are you all right now?’

She stood up a little shakily, nodding and picking up the gun.

Corin looked at Phoebe and she moved towards him, knowing what his glance was asking.

‘I’m all right, darling. Hatterson only bruised my wrist.’

Corin took charge again, speaking crisply. ‘He’ll never hurt anyone else.’

As they began to leave the old part of the house, another noise was heard outside above the yells and the sound of stones smacking against the walls of the big house.

‘What’s that?’ Corin asked. ‘Shh!’

They stopped and listened.

‘It sounds to be coming from further away,’ Olivia said. ‘And there are women’s voices as well as men’s.’

‘What now?’ Ethel muttered. ‘Have they brought the whole of Swindon to attack us?’

Joe ran down the stairs to join them. ‘Go and look at them, Major! You’ll never believe it.’ He danced round excitedly. ‘Hurrah! We’re saved,’ he yelled.

Everyone ran towards the windows and in the moonlight they could see a line of people behind the figures of the attackers. Men, women and even older children came to a halt, standing there till they’d formed a human wall. They were banging saucepans and yelling.

‘That’s Miss Bowers at the front,’ Phoebe said. ‘And old Mr Diggan too.’

‘Get out of our village!’ a woman yelled at the top of her voice.

The cry was taken up by others and in a short time had
turned into a chant punctuated by banging spoons and other rhythmic noises.

Get – out of – our – village. Get – out of – our – village
.

The noise increased steadily and as the solid line of villagers began to step forward to the rhythm of their words, the attackers fell back step by step, edging closer to one another at the same time.

Then, as the line moved inexorably forward, with people brandishing all sorts of kitchen and garden implements as weapons, one man broke from the mob and ran away towards the back of the house, followed by another, and then another, until all of them were fleeing.

The villagers let them go, though a few of the men followed to check that they weren’t regrouping. The people stopped chanting suddenly and stood in front of the house.

Corin unlocked the front door and yelled, ‘Well done, everyone. Well done!’