‘I don’t like you either,’ Mirabelle shouted.
The raven gave an almost dismissive flick of a wing and flew away towards the wall.
‘There are more of them,’ said Jem quietly. ‘A lot more.’
There were hundreds of ravens now, like a great liquid line of midnight black along the walls.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Jem.
‘Waiting,’ said Mirabelle.
‘What for?’
Jem looked almost sorry that she’d asked the question.
‘Odd says that ravens are a dread portent of things to come. He says he’s only seen flocks of them like that a few times before.’
‘Where?’
Now it was Mirabelle’s turn to look perturbed.
‘On battlefields,’ she said.
Freddie
Freddie had watched as more and more people had come out onto the street. So many friends and neighbours. So many people who now looked unfamiliar to him. Mr and Mrs Carswell were deep in discussion with the Smiths, their whispers hushed and intense. Mr Pheeps moved among them, nodding and patting each on the back or an arm. Pheeps had even spoken to Alfie Parkin, and the cold dread Freddie felt became even worse when he saw Alfie’s face darken with anger. Now Alfie was standing there gripping his cane so fiercely his knuckles were white and sharp. Freddie waved at him in an effort to get his attention, but Alfie’s eyes blazed as he stared out into the night, and it seemed his mind was elsewhere. For a while Freddie held tight to the hope that maybe the tide might be turned and people would shake themselves of the insidious influence of Mr Pheeps, but that hope was extinguished when he saw someone wielding a makeshift club, and someone else cradling a rifle. Then he saw another gun.
And another.
It took him two minutes to get to Dr Ellenby’s house. As he pounded on the door, he could still hear the low angry hum of people behind him, followed by a sudden eerie silence that terrified him even more.
He fell over the threshold when Dr Ellenby opened the door.
‘Freddie? What’s wrong?’
Freddie pushed his way in past him. ‘You have to go!’ he shouted. ‘They’ll be coming here.’
‘Who will?’ asked Dr Ellenby.
‘Almost everyone in the village,’ said Freddie. ‘You must have heard them.’
Putting his fear into words brought home to Freddie how dangerous the situation was. Dr Ellenby frowned at him. Freddie grabbed his arm.
Freddie tried to catch his breath. ‘I think they’re going to Mirabelle’s house. I think they’re going to do something terrible.’
Dr Ellenby considered all this for a moment, then nodded gravely when he heard the approaching sound. It was distant, but there was no mistaking its rumbling, angry quality. He went into his study and took a set of keys from his desk drawer while Freddie watched him from the doorway.
Freddie couldn’t speak now. He was shuddering too hard. Dr Ellenby came back to him and held him firmly by the shoulders.
‘It’ll be all right, Freddie. I know these people.’
Freddie looked at him. Not any more you don’t, he thought.
Dr Ellenby took him gently by the arm and guided him outside. He locked the front door behind them. Freddie could see the crowd approaching, spilling over onto the green. Mr Pheeps was leading them, Freddie’s father standing by his side. Freddie felt sick all over again.
The crowd squeezed into the laneway, Mr Pheeps looking extremely pleased with himself. Freddie’s father stepped forward.
‘We don’t want any trouble, Marcus. We just came for one thing. If you can hand it over, we’ll leave quietly,’ he said.
Dr Ellenby frowned. ‘Trouble? There won’t be any trouble here, Frank.’
Mr Pheeps put a hand on Freddie’s father’s arm and smiled at the doctor:
‘Dr Ellenby, I presume.’
‘At your service,’ said Dr Ellenby. He started to address the crowd. ‘I know it’s outside office hours, but if you could all just form an orderly queue . . .’
‘Give us what we came here for,’ someone shouted from the crowd. More shouts followed, but they were silenced as Mr Pheeps raised his hand.
‘If you would be so kind as to do what’s requested of you, Doctor, then we’ll leave you in peace.’
‘And what is requested of me?’ said Dr Ellenby.
Mr Pheeps stepped towards him, his hands held out in a gesture of placation. Freddie recognized the look on his face, the tone of his voice. It was the same hypnotic tone he’d used on his father. Freddie gripped the doctor by the arm.
‘That’s close enough,’ said Dr Ellenby.
Mr Pheeps looked surprised, and Freddie almost punched the air with delight.
‘If you’d like to tell me what it is you came here for, well, then maybe I can oblige,’ said the doctor.
Mr Pheeps closed his eyes and gave a long hard sniff of the air. ‘It seems this house has had quite a few visitors from a certain so-called family.’ At the mention of this a murmur of unease went through the crowd. When Pheeps opened his eyes again, the look he directed towards the doctor was one of pure malevolence.
‘It would also appear that the way that was once open to a local property has now been closed. To gain entry to said estate would now necessitate the use of a certain key.’
Mr Pheeps held his hand out:
‘If you would be so kind.’
Dr Ellenby pointed at the door of his house. ‘The key you seek is in there.’ He took a set of keys from his pocket. ‘And to gain entry to the key that is in there you’ll need one of these.’
He held the set of keys out, and Freddie’s heart did a little flip. Mr Pheeps stepped nearer, his eyes wide.
Dr Ellenby brought his arm back and flung the keys with all his might across the laneway and into the darkness of the hedge beyond.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd.
Dr Ellenby looked mildly at Mr Pheeps, whose face was now contorted with rage. For a moment Freddie felt a little twinge of joy.
Then something flew out of the crowd and hit Dr
