“But… what’s that? Is it even human?Who’s that with him?”
Beryl glared impatiently. “Backupstairs now, mother’s busy with her work.”
“No! What is this place. I wish Icould remember something, anything at all!”
The creature began to mumble strangewords. It was in an odd language, archaic, guttural, but somehow Bill knew whatthey meant… The man in black pulled out a truncheon and hit the creature,making it stop. Then he pushed it away through the cellar door.
“What are you going to do with it?”said Bill.
Beryl’s eyes grew wide and intense.“You may follow science, Bill Blackthorne, think it has all the answers, but weApostles have our own beliefs, the tenants of the Christian Medical Cabal aresacred and immutable! Satan can be rooted out of the body, oh yes,rooted out with pain and degradation. We are performing a mercy.”
Bill was speechless, shocked. Berylgripped his arm very tight, between bony fingers, and guided him away. He lefther and went back to bed, staring into space, trying not to panic, feeling morealone than ever.
*
Duringnext day’s lessons, he couldn’t help but ask Miss Spital about people withhorns and yellow eyes. “Are there many of them about?”
Miss Spital adjusted her pointed glassesand looked a little uncomfortable. “I’m not sure if I have the authority todiscuss those things with you. Let’s get on with geography.”
“But it can’t be normal, surely? Butthen again, how would I know? Maybe it is.”
“No questions. Eyes down and look atyour book.”
Bill gazed out of the window andthought of escape. He knew now for sure that there was something very sinisterand dangerous about Brimstone Manor and longed to get away, to somewhere safe,somewhere where there were answers to his questions and no scary creatures withhorns and yellow eyes. He wondered, as he’d increasingly done, about theoutside world. He knew three people, Miss Spital, his mother and Mordred thebutler, but how many other people lived out there, on the outside? He saw, throughthe window, a thick line of trees across the gravel drive.
“Those trees,” he said.
Miss Spital gave him a thin-lippedsmile. “That’s Bogmire Wood.”
“And what on past that?
“If you go down the lane there’s avillage, called Underwood, a sleepy little place. Nothing much happensnormally, but today is the annual village fête.” Miss Spital stopped talkingand checked herself. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Later that afternoon, when the day’slessons were over and Miss Spital had left in her car, Bill decided to gooutside. His mother was busy with one of her meetings – twice a week a group ofoddly dressed but important looking people would fill the drive with expensivecars – and Mordred was preparing drinks and food, so this was the perfect opportunity.He crept out of the house and followed the lane through the woods. It was anexhilarating experience being outside. The sun was warm on his face and thelight breeze was scented with flowers.
When he got to Underwood and hadwalked into the cobbled village square he realised it all looked very familiar.He recognised the may-pole, the village shop, the old stone houses. He’d beenhere before, but couldn’t recall when. It was very frustrating.
All the villagers were away, in afield he somehow knew was called North Down, very close to the village. He madehis way there and found it filled with crowds of people. There were bullocksand pigs being shown in pens, sheep dogs running around after sheep, and a fewmakeshift stalls and tents selling home-made cakes, jams and beer. It was veryodd to be surrounded by so many people after a cloistered life of Beryl,Mordred and Miss Spital.
“How do,” said a young man walkingpast. “Not local? Ever been to the fête before?”
“Hello,” said Bill. “My name’s Bill, Ilive at Brimstone Manor. I don’t think I have.”
“Really? I’m Arthur. Do you want tomeet my dad? He’s the vet. Come and have a look at the sheep show.”
Bill noticed that Arthur was dressedin a type of clothes he’d never seen before. Faded blue trousers and a blackt-shirt with a colourful picture of crazily dressed musicians on the front. Hewas a skinny lad with long straggly hair, and a happy-go-lucky grin.
“Thanks.”
They walked away, with Arthur chattingincessantly, asking Bill many personal questions that he didn’t know theanswers to. Bill spent a couple of happy hours with Arthur and his dad, Jim,pottering around the tents and stalls, looking at a sheep with a sore hoof andwatching a man in a white coat pin a rosette onto a young bullock. He went backhome feeling elated, like he’d made a couple of friends. But when he got backand told Beryl about his adventures she grew angry and said he shouldn’t beleaving the house, not just yet. People would start asking awkward questions.
But Bill was too excited and curiousto listen to Beryl. Over the next few weeks he made many visits to Underwood tomeet his new friend Arthur and his family. He was very easy to talk to, andBill decided to let him know about his life at the manor. He wasn’t sure whatthis boy made of him when confessed that he’d lost his childhood memories, butwent on to describe Brimstone Manor and the things he’d seen, including thecreature being led into the cellar, hoping that by telling someone about hisexperiences they’d reassure him and say he hadn’t lost his mind. But Arthur hadonly said it was all very freaky and didn’t know what to make of it. Bill askedit creatures with horns were common in the world and Arthur laughed and saidobviously not.
*
Thenone evening in early Autumn, without explanation, Beryl told Bill he was toleave Brimstone Manor and go off to the city, to study at MiddenmereUniversity. Miss Spital had deemed him fit for external work.
“I have arranged with Professor Nox toadminister your chemical treatments,” said Beryl. “You must get well! There isimportant work you must do for us.”
Bill didn’t know what to say. Thefarthest he’d been so far was to Underwood. The greater outside world was acomplete mystery. He asked why she wanted him to go. What was he going tostudy? But as usual, Beryl told him nothing, merely saying she
