Dying Fall

(whether it’s to do with being a Scorpio or not, she does love the water), but as soon they go into the bedroom, she starts to look mutinous. Ruth tucks her into the double bed, gives her a bottle and reads interminable multi-lingual adventures featuring Dora the Explorer. Kate endures this for a while, watching Ruth out of her big dark eyes, so like her father’s. But as soon as Ruth closes the book andprepares to leave the room, Kate starts to cry. Eventually Ruth lies down on the bed next to her daughter. The rain batters against the windows and the little house seems almost to shake under the onslaught. For once Ruth is happy to have near neighbours. Through the curtains she can see the orange glow of streetlights, hear cars going past. If this was the Saltmarsh she’d have only the wind and the rain for company. And Flint, of course. She wonders how he is. Perhaps she should text Bob.
    She looks down at Kate. The bottle has fallen out of her hands and she seems to be breathing heavily. Slowly, trying to make herself weightless, Ruth sits up and swings her feet to the floor. Kate murmurs but doesn’t wake. Leaving the bedside light on, Ruth tiptoes out and goes in search of her mobile phone. Where can she have left it?
    The cute little house seems different at night, furniture seems to loom at her or appear in odd places. Surely that bookcase wasn’t there before, thinks Ruth, rubbing her shins. She thinks of Dame Alice’s cottage, the little white house in the hollow of the hills. Has Cathbad decided to stay the night with Pendragon? If so, he’d have told her surely. Yes, he’s probably left a message on her bloody phone. Where is the damn thing? She goes into the kitchen, which still smells of toast. She eats a soggy crust, rejected by Kate. Stop eating, she tells herself sternly. If you don’t eat for a year maybe you’ll be as slim as Caz. But being thin has never seemed worth being hungry, which is one reason why Ruth weighs nearly thirteen stone.
    She stops. A floorboard creaks upstairs. Could it possibly be Kate? There’s no stair-gate at the cottage and Ruth is in constant fear that Kate will get up in the night and fall down the stairs. Ruth goes upstairs and looks into the master bedroom. Kate is sleeping deeply, arms flung out. The milk bottle is dripping on the floor and Ruth picks it up. Then she goes into Cathbad’s room. She is not sure what she is expecting to see, but the bed, with its pink flowery duvet, is neatly made and the ballerinas gaze down demurely from the wallpaper. There are no clothes anywhere; Cathbad must have packed everything into the little wardrobe under the eaves. Unlike Ruth, who still has half her stuff in her suitcase. There is a book next to the bed. Ruth picks it up.
Wicked Enchantments
, it’s called,
A History of the Pendle Witches and Their Magic
. The cover shows a cauldron and a black cat. Ruth puts the book down hastily but, as she does so, a photo falls out. Ruth picks it up, trying not to look but, of course, she has seen who is in the picture. Judy, standing on the beach, her hair loose, looking entirely unlike a policewoman. Ruth tucks the photo back into the book and goes downstairs. Where is Cathbad? Has he got lost in the winding paths through the Pendle Forest? Has he strayed into a local coven? If so, he’s definitely likely to stay the night.
    Ruth goes back downstairs and – hooray! – finds her phone in her cagoule pocket. She clicks on to Messages.
    Just one.
    Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home. Your house is on fire. Your children are gone.
    Ruth stands in the hall, frozen in terror. She sees the ruined house with its blank, staring windows. She thinks of Dan in his own hallway, trying desperately to open the locked door. Then she turns and runs back upstairs. Kate is still asleep. Ruth turns off the bedside lamp because lamps can overheat, houses can burn down. Instantly her phone clicks into life.
    A new message.
    Don’t turn out the light.
    Ruth has had enough; she rings Nelson.

CHAPTER 17
    Cathbad and Nelson arrive at the same time. They exchange a few words on the doorstep and then Nelson barges in and takes charge. First he runs upstairs to check on Kate, then he holds out his hand for Ruth’s mobile.
    ‘Can you trace the messages?’ she asks.
    ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Mobile phones have a unique number that they send out when they make a call. If I have the number I can trace the call to its local base. That’ll give us a