The doctor staggered backwards, using the windowsill behind him for support, but another stone hit him square in the forehead, and he crumpled to the ground, a hand going to his head and coming away covered in blood.
The crowd were on him in seconds.
Freddie tried his best to shield the doctor, but he was pushed out of the way and then there was a flurry of fists and feet as the stricken man was pummelled by the crowd. Meanwhile, another group was battering the doctor’s front door down. They rushed it in waves, and about half a dozen men collapsed into the hallway as the hinges gave way. A great cheer went up, and people flooded into the house, which mercifully meant that they stopped attacking Dr Ellenby.
Freddie tended to the doctor on the ground while the screaming crowd ignored them. Items were thrown from upstairs windows: shirts, shoes, books – all showering down around the doctor and Freddie. After a few minutes there was a frantic shrieking from the house, and someone came to door, shouting:
‘I have it!’
Freddie saw something golden held aloft, then the heaving crowd moved off as one, coursing like a river round the bend as they exited the laneway. The silence they left behind almost hurt Freddie’s ears. He helped Dr Ellenby up into a sitting position, noting the blood by his temple and on his forehead. One of the handles of his glasses was bent out of shape. The doctor tried to fix his glasses back in place with a trembling hand.
‘They’re just scratches, nothing to worry about. Take it from me. I’m a doctor.’
‘What pitiable wretches you are,’ said Mr Pheeps, regarding them from the darkness.
‘Is that your professional opinion?’ asked Dr Ellenby as Freddie helped him to his feet.
‘What good did it do you to resist?’ asked Mr Pheeps, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Good was done by the act of resistance, as futile as it might have been. That’s all that matters,’ said Dr Ellenby, pulling briskly at the hem of his waistcoat as he straightened himself up.
Mr Pheeps shook his head in disgust then walked after the crowd.
‘You’ll get what’s coming to you!’ Freddie roared after him.
‘Oh, believe me, I intend to,’ shouted Mr Pheeps without turning round.
Jem
Jem and Tom stood at the bedroom window. They looked out across the estate to the wall where the ravens still gathered in preparation, for what exactly Jem didn’t know. It was something she didn’t really want to consider.
‘We should help them,’ said Jem.
‘I agree,’ said Tom.
Jem looked at him in surprise. Normally, Tom would run at the first sign of trouble. Their life on the road had always been about survival, taking what they needed wherever and whenever they could, and leaving as quickly as possible. Even so, she knew there was good in him.
‘You can thank Piglet,’ said Tom. ‘He showed me things, made me understand how people are afraid of each other without having any reason to be.’ Tom frowned a little, as if the words he was trying to find were inadequate for the task. ‘We have more in common with this family than we think. Piglet is kind, and his family are kind, and we owe them.’
‘We’re staying, then,’ said Jem.
‘Absolutely,’ said Tom.
There was a knock on the door. They both turned as it opened, and Eliza stepped into the room.
‘They’re coming,’ she said.
Freddie
Freddie tried his best to support Dr Ellenby in getting back into his house. It required some effort, and Dr Ellenby groaned as they entered the hallway.
‘Does it hurt?’ asked Freddie.
Dr Ellenby gestured at the clothes, books and furniture that now lay scattered around the hall. ‘Only my aesthetic sensibilities,’ he said, giving a pained smile.
Freddie didn’t fully understand what he meant, but he nodded anyway.
Dr Ellenby fell into a chair in his study then took some cloth and bottled spirits from the side table and wiped the gashes on his face, wincing as he did so.
‘This Mr Pheeps, what is he exactly?’
‘A monster,’ said Freddie. ‘He eats souls. The souls of people like Mirabelle and her family. He says he’s been hunting them for years.’
‘I see.’
‘His words have some kind of power. He can turn people against each other. I saw him do it to my dad first.’
Dr Ellenby nodded as he taped some gauze to his forehead.
There was the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside, and the window glowed orange from the headlights for a moment before they were extinguished. Freddie immediately stood up and clenched his fists.
‘More of them,’ he said.
He looked around for a weapon, but Dr Ellenby leaned across and grabbed his hand, shaking his head. Freddie was about to protest when he heard someone call his name.
He was already rushing to hug his mother before she entered the room.
‘Mum! Mum! Dad and the others, they’re headed to—’
‘The house, I know.’
‘We have to stop them!’
His mother’s eyes were lit with a fierce light. ‘I agree. That’s why we’re going after them.’
It took a little longer than normal for Dr Ellenby to get his aching frame into the van. He collapsed gratefully into the passenger seat. Freddie sat beside him, noticing how weary he looked. He patted him on the arm.
‘We’ll stop them, Dr Ellenby.’
Dr Ellenby tried his best to smile. ‘I don’t doubt it, Freddie.’
It was the first time Freddie had seen his mother drive the van. She crouched over the steering wheel, driving with an intent and purpose that surprised him. They pulled up when they saw the various cars and vans blocking the road. They could see the glimmer of torches between the trees and, most disconcertingly of all, the flicker of flames.
Freddie’s mother stopped the van and she and Freddie got out. She tried to object as Dr Ellenby began to clamber out too.
‘Well, why’d you bring me, then? And surely, Elizabeth, I am best qualified to judge whether I can do this or not.’
Freddie’s mother
