‘Ah, or a bunch o’ nettles to them as nobody likes, as it might be the cheats and tell-tales and the skinflints and them as is knowed to ’ave ill-wished others.’
‘Yes, I know about the nettles, too, and it can be worse things than nettles, can’t it? I’ve read a lot about village May-Day customs. Some of them are the same all over Europe. I mean, what does Seven Springs do which is different and rather special? What does the village get up to on Mayering Eve?’ She was interested to hear what the young servant would have to say, if anything, about the hilltop ceremonies.
‘Why, nothing,’ said Clytie, giving a wary glance over her shoulder. ‘Why should it?’
‘I had an idea there might be some sort of local ceremony – something other villages don’t do.’
‘Best not ask they sort of questions. If I knew I wouldn’t tell ’ee, but truth is I don’t know and I don’t fare to be any the worse for not knowin’. Ancient customs don’t bother I none. I looks forrard to the Mayerin’ same as others, but what go on below ground ain’t no business o’ mine, nor yours neether, miss, if you won’t take no offence bein’ told so.’
‘I’m not offended, Clytie, I’m merely curious. My car was meddled with yesterday, wasn’t it? I’m interested to know why.’
‘P’raps Sukie put a spell on it,’ said Clytie, with another giggle, ‘and p’raps master ’ad a go at it. You never know. Or p’raps there was others as wanted you stoppin’ along of us.’
‘I wish you’d tell me what you know. That car didn’t put itself wrong. Somebody tampered with it while I was having my lunch. I’m certain of that. Why should anybody want to put it out of action so that I had to stay here the night?’
‘Oh, I don’t reckon it was nothing of that. It were only ’avin’ you on. If anybody touched it, it would be they lads. Up to their tricks as usual they was, I reckon, ’specially that Ted Pitsey. Dunno what ’e got up to last night. Not a sign of ’im s’mornin’. T’others don’t mean no ’arm. They just get fed up with the peace and quiet. Nothing for ’em in village, you see, so they makes their own fun, and a right old nuisance that can be. This time, though, I wouldn’t wonder if they was directed, if you take my meanin’, miss.’
‘Directed? By whom?’ Fenella looked somewhat startled.
‘Could be master; could be the Elders. I did ’ear tell….’ she giggled again … ‘as you was an unseemly spectator of their meetin’ yesterday.’
‘Of their – oh, you mean the zodiac people in fancy dress who met in the lounge? Yes, accidentally, I did go into the room. But who told you anything about it?’ There could only have been one person, and that was the sniggering youth.
‘Oh, that get around,’ said Clytie. ‘Can’t say you wasn’t warned, can you, now? I likes you, miss, so I do, and I wouldn’t want no ’arm to come to you nohow. Egg and bacon do for your breakfast?’
‘Yes, I shall enjoy that.’
‘Right-o, then. Pity about Squire, bain’t it?’
‘I’ve no idea. Who is Squire?’ Memories, none of them very clear, came back to Fenella from the meeting in the lounge.
‘Sir Bathy. Died on us Saturday. Farin’ to be buried s’arternoon. Some says as he was done for. There was inquest, but nobody seem to know the rights and wrongs.’
‘Do you mean they think he was murdered?’
‘Well, that’s what they do be sayin’, the police and that. I wouldn’t fare to know. Any road, that’ll have to do the well-wishin’, I suppose, be that alive or dead, ’cos Mr Jeremy is in foreign parts and won’t be in time to get back for the funeral, but it ain’t the same as if Squire was a livin’ soul, is it now? You seen the ’ouse, I reckon, when you went out yesterday.’
‘Oh, well, I passed a large park with a long gravel drive as I came along here and I could just see a big house through the trees. Would that be it?’
‘Ah, I daresay. P’raps and p’raps not. Oh, well, I better get on, I suppose. Got plenty to do before I goes off to see the finish o’ the Mayerin’.’
Fenella asked no more questions. She drank her tea, bathed and dressed and then went along to the saloon bar, but Mrs Shurrock, drying and polishing glasses and pewter tankards, directed her to the lounge. Any animosity which the landlord’s wife might have felt towards her guest on the previous evening had entirely disappeared. She was smiling and friendly again.
‘Got our garland all right. Bigger and better than last year,’ she said, ‘and thankful to see it on door, I can tell you! Did Clytie tell you your car will be all ready for you, soon as you’ve had your lunch? You’ll find the lounge all cleared up and aired out, and we’ll bring you your breakfast in there, and your lunch as well. I’m real sorry you were put about yesterday, but the Mayering, well, that’s how it go, and nought to be done about it, heathenish though that be.’
‘I thought of going and having a look at the hill-fort this morning,’ said Fenella.
‘Ah, you do that. A lively old bonfire they had up there last night, so I hear tell. And don’t you miss the well-wishing. A very old custom that is, and worth a look, if you haven’t never seen it before.’
‘I don’t even know where the well is,’ said Fenella.
‘Seven of ’em, like the name of the village. Down at the other end of the road they be. Anybody will show you. Funeral will have to go widdershins round ’em, I don’t doubt. Dead or alive, Squire’ll have to face up to his work, seeing as
