Alice pretended not to hear him. Before making the breakfast she had another job to do: she went straight into the kitchen and started preparing the chicken we’d be having for our midday meal. It was hanging from a hook by the door, its neck off and its insides already pulled out the evening before. She set to work cleaning it with water and salt, her eyes concentrating hard on what she was doing so that her busy fingers wouldn’t miss the tiniest bit.
It was then, as I watched her, that I finally remembered something that might just work against a possessed body.
Salt and iron!
I couldn’t be sure but it was worth a try. It was what the Spook used to bind a boggart into a pit and it might just work against a witch. If I threw it at someone possessed, it might just drive Mother Malkin out.
I didn’t trust Alice and didn’t want her to see me helping myself to the salt, so I had to wait until she’d stopped cleaning the chicken and left the kitchen. That done, before going out to start my own chores, I paid a visit to Dad’s workshop.
It didn’t take me long to find what I needed. From amongst the large collection of files on the shelf above his workbench I chose the biggest and roughest toothed of them all. It was the one called a ‘bastard’ which, when I was younger, gave me the only chance of ever using that word without getting a clip round the ear. Soon I was filing away at the edge of an old iron bucket, the noise setting my teeth on edge. But it wasn’t long before an even louder noise split the air.
It was the scream of a dying pig, the first of five.
I knew that Mother Malkin could be anywhere, and if she hadn’t already possessed someone, she might choose a victim at any moment. So I had to concentrate and be on my guard at all times. But at least now I had something to defend myself with.
Jack wanted me to help Snout but I was always ready with an excuse, claiming that I was finishing this or just about to do that. If I got stuck working with Snout I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on everyone else. As I was just his brother visiting for a few days, not the hired help, Jack wasn’t able to insist but he came very close to it.
In the end, after lunch, his face as black as thunder, he was forced to help Snout himself, which was exactly what I wanted. If he was working in front of the barn, I could keep an eye on him from a distance. I kept using excuses to check on Alice and Ellie too. Either one of them could be possessed, but if it were Ellie, there’d not be much chance of saving the baby: most of the time it was either in her arms or sleeping in its cot close to her side.
I had the salt and iron but I wasn’t sure whether it would be enough. The best thing would have been a silver chain. Even a short one would have been better than nothing. When I was little, I’d once overheard Dad and Mam talking about a silver chain that belonged to her. I’d never seen her wearing one but it might still be in the house somewhere – maybe in the storeroom just below the attic, which Mam always kept locked.
But their bedroom wasn’t locked. Normally I’d never have gone into their room without permission but I was desperate. I searched Mam’s jewellery box. There were brooches and rings in the box, but no silver chain. I searched the whole room. I felt really guilty looking through the drawers but I did it anyway. I thought there might have been a key to the storeroom but I didn’t find it.
While I was searching, I heard Jack’s big boots coming up the stairs. I kept very still, hardly daring to breathe, but he just came up to his bedroom for a few moments and went straight down again. After that, I completed my search but found nothing so I went down to check on everyone once more.
That day the air had been still and calm, but when I walked by the barn, a breeze had sprung up. The sun was beginning to go down, lighting everything up in a warm, red glow and promising fine weather for the following day. At the front of the barn three dead pigs were now hanging, head down, from big hooks. They were pink and freshly scraped, the last one still dripping blood into a bucket, and Snout was on his knees wrestling with the fourth, which was giving him a hard time of it – it was difficult to tell which of them was grunting the loudest.
Jack, the front of his shirt soaked in blood, glared at me as I passed but I just smiled and nodded. They were just getting on with the work in hand and there was still quite a bit to do, so they’d be at it long after the sun had set. But so far there wasn’t the slightest sign of dizziness, not even a hint of possession.
Within an hour it was dark. Jack and Snout were still working by the light of the fire that was flickering their shadows across the yard.
The horror began as I went to the shed at the back of the barn to fetch a bag of spuds from the store…
I heard a scream. It was a scream filled with terror. The scream of a woman facing the very worst thing that could possibly happen to her.
I dropped the sack of potatoes and ran round to the front of the barn. There, I came to a sudden halt, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.
Ellie was standing about twenty paces away, holding both her arms out, screaming and screaming as if she were being tortured. At her feet lay Jack, blood all over his face. I thought Ellie was screaming because of Jack – but no, it was because of Snout.
He was facing towards me, as if he were waiting for me to arrive. In his left hand he was holding his favourite sharp knife, the long one he always used to cut a pig’s throat. I froze in horror because I knew what I’d heard in Ellie’s scream.
With his right arm, he was cradling her baby.
There was thick pig blood on Snout’s boots and it was still dripping onto them from his apron. He moved the knife closer to the baby.
‘Come here, boy,’ he called in my direction. ‘Come to me.’ Then he laughed.
His mouth had opened and closed as he spoke but it wasn’t his voice that came out. It was Mother Malkin’s. Neither was it his usual deep belly-rumble of laughter. It was the cackle of the witch.
I took a slow step towards Snout. Then another one. I wanted to get closer to him. I wanted to save Ellie’s baby. I tried to go faster. But I couldn’t. My feet felt as heavy as lead. It was like desperately trying to run in a nightmare. My legs were moving as if they didn’t belong to me.
I suddenly realized something that brought me out in a cold sweat. I wasn’t just moving towards Snout because I wanted to. It was because Mother Malkin had summoned me. She was drawing me towards him at the pace she wanted, drawing me towards his waiting knife. I wasn’t going to the rescue. I was just going to die. I was under some sort of spell. A spell of compulsion.
I’d felt something similar down by the river, but just in time my left hand and arm had acted by themselves to knock Mother Malkin into the water. Now my limbs were as powerless as my mind.
I was moving closer to Snout. Closer and closer to his waiting knife. His eyes were the eyes of Mother Malkin, and his face was bulging horribly. It was as if the witch inside were distorting its shape, swelling the cheeks close to bursting, bulging the eyes close to popping, beetling the brow into craggy overhanging cliffs; below them the bulbous, protruding eyes centred with fire, casting a red, baleful glow before them.
I took another step and felt my heart thud. Another step and it thudded again. I was much nearer to Snout by now. Thud, thud went my heart, a beat for each step.
When I was no more than five paces from the waiting knife, I heard Alice running towards us, screaming my name. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, moving out of the darkness into the glow from the fire. She was heading straight towards Snout, her black hair streaming back from her head as if she were running directly into a gale.