striking down my friends in there, and broke the cross at our altar. And
do you know why?’
Robert shook his head slowly in admiration as John’s voice dropped and he lowered his gaze to stare at them all. A man shifted
his feet on the rushes of the floor, and in the silence all could hear it. They were hanging on John’s words.
‘Because they wanted to steal a body;
that’s
why!’
Arthur was mumbling and snuffling in his sleep, and Cecily was irritated enough to want to smother him with a pillow. God!
Wouldn’t he ever stop that silly noise? Why should a fellow do that so much in the middle of the night, when all about him
people were trying to get some sleep? Perhaps he didn’t realize, but it was the middle of the night.
She should be more patient. Well, yes.
That
was easily said, but when Arthur was snorting and moaning like that, there was little a girl could do about it. And for goodness’
sake, surely she deserved a bit of peace herself? There was no reason why she should be expected to suffer this sort of torment
every night.
She kicked him, gently, to make him stir a little. Usually that worked well enough, but for some reason tonight it didn’t.
So she pinched his arse, good and hard. That did the trick all right!
‘
Ow!
Ow …’ He sniffled to himself and blearily opened his eyes. ‘I was having a horrible dream,’ he said, and wiped his nose
on his sleeve. He always had a runny nose.
‘You,’ Cecily declared, ‘are revolting.’
‘ ’M not,’ her brother said with all the dignity his four and a half years could muster. ‘Mummy says I’m not.’
‘Oh, shut up and go back to sleep. And this time, don’t snore,’ Cecily hissed and threw herself over to face the wall.
Arthur groaned to himself, just like Daddy, and rolled over too, tugging at their shared blankets.
That groaning of his, it was nearly as bad as the snoring and sniffling. He always had a cold, Arthur did, and when he didn’t
he was still grunting and groaning to himself. In Daddy it was endearing, because he was grown up, but a little boy like him,
she thought contemptuously, a little boy like
him
shouldn’t make a noise like that. It was
silly
.
That he was silly was less a subjective judgement than a conviction borne out by the facts. He was clumsy, noisy, rough and
altogether too boisterous. And he was dim. He would believe anything she told him, which made for some amusement for her and
her friends, but it also meant that he was amazingly annoying much of the time. And he had no idea that it was rude to stare.
He would turn his big blue eyes on people and just stare and stare, and it made them uneasy. She’d told him once that if he
kept doing it, someone would come along in the middle of the night and cut out his eyes so he couldn’t be so rude any more,
but it didn’t work. He was more fascinated by the sight of other people than he was terrified by the thought of ghouls and
monsters coming into his chamber at night.
She wasn’t scared, of course. With the perspective that her additional five years gave her, she knew that although ghosts
were all over the place, as her daddy said, they were probablytoo scared to come into a house like this with Arthur’s dry nurse about the place. And right, too. Iseult was enough to petrify
even the most scary of ghosts into finding another house.
There was a creak, and Cecily heard a board moving in the chamber overhead. She glanced up, and through the cracks in the
floorboards she caught a flash of blue-white, then another. There was a third, and then a glimmering of yellowish light. Her
father had lit a candle. She kept her eyes open, listening to the soft padding of feet. There was no door to her parents’
room, only an archway which gave onto the staircase. The steps were terribly steep and dangerous, and anyone on them must
clamber cautiously down to the ground. She was aware of whispering and a glow of light, and then
do you know why?’
Robert shook his head slowly in admiration as John’s voice dropped and he lowered his gaze to stare at them all. A man shifted
his feet on the rushes of the floor, and in the silence all could hear it. They were hanging on John’s words.
‘Because they wanted to steal a body;
that’s
why!’
Arthur was mumbling and snuffling in his sleep, and Cecily was irritated enough to want to smother him with a pillow. God!
Wouldn’t he ever stop that silly noise? Why should a fellow do that so much in the middle of the night, when all about him
people were trying to get some sleep? Perhaps he didn’t realize, but it was the middle of the night.
She should be more patient. Well, yes.
That
was easily said, but when Arthur was snorting and moaning like that, there was little a girl could do about it. And for goodness’
sake, surely she deserved a bit of peace herself? There was no reason why she should be expected to suffer this sort of torment
every night.
She kicked him, gently, to make him stir a little. Usually that worked well enough, but for some reason tonight it didn’t.
So she pinched his arse, good and hard. That did the trick all right!
‘
Ow!
Ow …’ He sniffled to himself and blearily opened his eyes. ‘I was having a horrible dream,’ he said, and wiped his nose
on his sleeve. He always had a runny nose.
‘You,’ Cecily declared, ‘are revolting.’
‘ ’M not,’ her brother said with all the dignity his four and a half years could muster. ‘Mummy says I’m not.’
‘Oh, shut up and go back to sleep. And this time, don’t snore,’ Cecily hissed and threw herself over to face the wall.
Arthur groaned to himself, just like Daddy, and rolled over too, tugging at their shared blankets.
That groaning of his, it was nearly as bad as the snoring and sniffling. He always had a cold, Arthur did, and when he didn’t
he was still grunting and groaning to himself. In Daddy it was endearing, because he was grown up, but a little boy like him,
she thought contemptuously, a little boy like
him
shouldn’t make a noise like that. It was
silly
.
That he was silly was less a subjective judgement than a conviction borne out by the facts. He was clumsy, noisy, rough and
altogether too boisterous. And he was dim. He would believe anything she told him, which made for some amusement for her and
her friends, but it also meant that he was amazingly annoying much of the time. And he had no idea that it was rude to stare.
He would turn his big blue eyes on people and just stare and stare, and it made them uneasy. She’d told him once that if he
kept doing it, someone would come along in the middle of the night and cut out his eyes so he couldn’t be so rude any more,
but it didn’t work. He was more fascinated by the sight of other people than he was terrified by the thought of ghouls and
monsters coming into his chamber at night.
She wasn’t scared, of course. With the perspective that her additional five years gave her, she knew that although ghosts
were all over the place, as her daddy said, they were probablytoo scared to come into a house like this with Arthur’s dry nurse about the place. And right, too. Iseult was enough to petrify
even the most scary of ghosts into finding another house.
There was a creak, and Cecily heard a board moving in the chamber overhead. She glanced up, and through the cracks in the
floorboards she caught a flash of blue-white, then another. There was a third, and then a glimmering of yellowish light. Her
father had lit a candle. She kept her eyes open, listening to the soft padding of feet. There was no door to her parents’
room, only an archway which gave onto the staircase. The steps were terribly steep and dangerous, and anyone on them must
clamber cautiously down to the ground. She was aware of whispering and a glow of light, and then
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