The Abbey Farm Curse.
Chapter Twelve.
Angie and I slept late the morning after we witnessed the fate of the Celtic village, in fact if it wasn't for Willow waking us up I think the workmen would have arrived well before we surfaced.
'Let me guess what tired you two out,' she suggested with playful sarcasm.
'And you'd probably be wrong,' I told her as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and levered myself into a sitting position.
'And of course, I'd believe you.'
'Look.' Angie looked up irritably. 'We've had better nights, okay?'
Willow cocked her head to one side in query, curious about Angie's mood.
'Yes, we started to have a bit of fun,' Angie went on, 'but then before much happened we got whisked off to that village again. You know - the one that was here before the abbey.'
'Yes, I know which one you mean, No need to get aggravated just because you got interrupted.'
Angie sat up in bed, making her full breasts swing as she turned rather abruptly to face Willow. 'Look. It's nothing to do with being interrupted. We got sent back and what we saw there was not very nice. In fact it was so not nice that we couldn't sleep afterwards, and now we're late and that's all there is to it! Is that all right with you?'
'What happened that was so bad then? Don't tell me another Countess got it where she shouldn't.'
There was both ridicule and curiosity in Willow's tone. I saw Angie's face darken from the levity in Willow's tone. But then Willow had no idea of the horror we had witnessed. I thought it was time to cut in before a full-on row developed by default.
'Pack it in, you two. We did see something else, something really unpleasant, and we also think it might be important, so when we've got ready for the electricians and the drain layers, then we need to sit down and talk again. And we need to do it where we can be serious without the abbey interrupting.'
Willow's mouth pulled shut when she saw how solemn I was, realizing then that serious meant serious. I think they knew both what I meant by the abbey not interrupting. 'Then why don't we all go up to the 'Mucky Duck' when it opens?'
The 'Mucky Duck' that Willow spoke of was the affectionate title of the 'Grey Goose Inn' a couple of miles along the road into town, and it made as good a meeting place as any because it never filled up until well after midday.
'Yeah, okay, the builders and electricians will be able to look after themselves for a while by then. Now, shall we all put some clothes on before we give the electricians a shock?' Well, I thought it was a good pun in the circumstances!
Suddenly Angie's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes opened wide in shocked memory. 'My god!' She exclaimed. 'The bloody dentist.'
She saw Willow and myself looking at her with blank expressions and tried to explain while fumbling hastily through her purse.
'I've got an appointment for a filling, and I think it's today.'
She found the appointments card and scanned it, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
'No, thank god, it's tomorrow at eleven.' She glanced up at me. 'That's what reminded me, because the Duck opens at eleven.'
So it did, and at ten past we were all three safely ensconced in the part they call the 'snug', a small side room where people can go for a quiet and private drink away from the bustle of the bar.
'Right,' Willow began, 'all flipping morning I've been wondering what you're going to tell me, so don't keep me waiting any longer.
It hadn't been fair, but I hadn't wanted to start a conversation that might be interrupted at any time by a couple of dusty and insensitive electricians ripping up floorboards, or by another crew of builders wanting to be told where to (politely) stick their drainpipes. Anyway, while we sat in the quiet and relative security of the little bar I satisfied her understandable curiosity and told Willow what had happened the night before and what we'd witnessed. She sat with a very sober look on her young face, instantly seeing the implications of what we'd seen, if not the reasons for it. Suddenly she shivered as if caught in a draft.
'Just think. All those people were murdered right where we're living.'
'We don't know so for sure,' Angie told her, trying to be positive.
Willow looked at her scornfully. 'Do you think all those things would have happened at the farm if they weren't?'
Angie shook her head in silent sadness.
'Looks like we all agree on one thing then.' I didn't want to dwell on that dark fact. 'We've been shown something of the cause of the abbey's troubles.
''If we'd been shown the cure too it might have been handy,' Angie observed regretfully.
'But I think we've been pointed in the direction of one.' Willow straightened up suddenly, as if a brainwave had just struck.
Angie and I looked at her expectantly.