The Owl Service by Alan Garner Page A

for a spear. But you heard it, didn’t you? And then he screamed.”
    â€œI don’t count that. I’m only going on what I heard last night,” said Roger.
    â€œAnd the lawn this afternoon.”
    â€œYou think it’s haunted, then?”
    â€œGhosts don’t eat mice,” said Gwyn. “Whatever chewed that mouse could chew me or you.”
    â€œI give up,” said Roger. “But if there’s any more of it I’m off, I’ll tell you.”
    â€œHow will you manage?” said Gwyn.
    â€œDad’s steerable when you know how.”
    â€œAnd the new Mrs Bradley?” said Gwyn. “A kind of family honeymoon, is it?”
    â€œMind your own business,” said Roger. He spiked the tripod into the earth and set up the camera.
    â€œWhat happened to your real Mam?” said Gwyn.
    â€œI told you to mind your own business.”
    â€œShe around then?”
    Roger looked over the camera at Gwyn. “I’ll fill you in,” he said. “If you open your big mouth once more I’ll fill you in.”
    â€œOK,” said Gwyn.
    â€œRight.”
    Gwyn concentrated on scratching his initials in the stone, and Roger bent to read the exposure meter, adjusted the lens.
    â€œNot haunted,” said Gwyn after a while. “More like – still happening?”
    â€œA tenth at f. 16,” said Roger. “I’ll go up and down either side of that: can’t afford to change the stop, though. What did you say?”
    â€œGwydion. One of the Three Golden Shoemakers of the Isle of Britain. That’s him.”
    â€œWhat are you blathering at?” said Roger.
    â€œHe was the wizard who made the wife out of flowers for Lleu Llaw Gyffes. It’s coming back to me. We had it read at school a couple of years ago. Gwydion made Blodeuwedd for Lleu, and she fell in love with Gronw Pebyr—”
    â€œThat’s what Alison said.”
    â€œAnd Gronw killed Lleu here on this very spot: then Lleu killed Gronw, and Blodeuwedd was turned into an owl—”
    â€œThe problem is to line the camera up with this hole, so that you can see the trees,” said Roger, “but you have to be at least seven feet away, or you can’t have the stone and the trees both in focus together. I want to use the rock texture as a frame for the trees in the distance. It should make an interesting composition.”
    â€œThink of it, man!” said Gwyn. “A woman made of flowers and then changed into an owl. The plates, man! It’s all there if we could see it!” He jumped down and ran towards the house.
    â€œWhere are you off to?” shouted Roger.
    â€œHuw the Flitch! ‘Mind how you are looking at her.’ He knows! The flamer!”
    Roger went back to his camera. The light was fading quickly, and he decided to take the last frames of film on long exposures. He used the delayed setting for these. When he pressed the button the camera whirred for several seconds and then the shutter clicked. Whirr and click. Whirr and click. And the shadows seemed to come out of the river.
    â€œTaking photos, are you?”
    Roger yelped with fright. Huw Halfbacon was standing behind him. He was carrying some branches on his shoulder, and Roger had not heard him come along the river bank.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing, creeping up on me like that? I could have bust my camera!”
    â€œI was bringing sticks,” said Huw. “For the fire. Yes.”
    â€œThen why don’t you fetch them from the wood?” said Roger. “It’s choked with dead timber.”
    â€œWe don’t go there,” said Huw.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œPrivate.”
    â€œPrivate? Don’t be stupid: that notice is to keep hikers out, not you.”
    â€œIt is private family why we don’t go in the wood,” said Huw. “That is all.” He swung his load to the ground and went down on one knee beside it.