Three Mile Drove, Chapter Eighteen (standard:fairy tales, 1866 words) [19/29] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Jul 19 2007	Views/Reads: 2601/2161	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Things are reaching crisis point in Bramble Dyke a village with a nasty secret that is centred in Three Mile Drove and being withheld from newcomer, Darren Goldwater

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

sickly odour within made him want to vomit. 

But he didn't. He took a deep breath and turning to face them said with
forced calmness, ‘Tomblin tried to kill me.' 

Darren stared at them with total conviction, no hazy tint to mar his
senses now. 

It had to be Tomblin's work. First, he thought he'd heard an engine
noise amidst the wind, and second, Tomblin had threatened him before. 
Then there was his grisly dad, who in his own way had done much the 
same the moment he'd entered the drove, less than thirty minutes before 
he'd heard the steps behind him and felt the cloth around his mouth. 
Tomblin had felt he'd done enough to kill him, left him for dead. 

That was how it was. 

Claire and the parson were staring at him; they exchanged glances. The
parson shuffled his feet, interlocked his fingers, ‘I suggest we run 
the young man back to his hotel, his imagination seems to be running 
away with him, and he needs to sober up.' 

Darren shook his head fiercely at Endleberry, ‘I've already told you, I
didn't take a drink... he placed it there to look...' 

‘Please Darren, calm down, try to think rationally,' Claire shook her
long hair back, reached forward and grabbed his arms, ‘listen, you need 
to rest up, you've been imagining noises and things ever since you came 
here. If you're going to live in this part of the world you'll need to 
accept things as they are, nothing more than the customs of an old 
fashioned, rustic society. Isn't that right David?' 

‘Of course it is,' the parson fixed his gaze upon him; he snatched a
handkerchief from his trouser pocket, quickly mopping his brow. The 
parson seemed hot, uncomfortable somehow, but it was a cold day outside 
and there was enough draught funnelling through the open door to make a 
ghost shiver. 

Darren felt Claire's arm transfer to his shoulder, she wasn't a lot
shorter than him and managed it quite easily, ‘Now you go back to your 
hotel room and lie down, give this over-active imagination of yours a 
chance to rest. You'll see things differently later.' She removed her 
arm and he felt the palm of her hand soft against his back, guiding him 
through the doorway towards the Jeep. ‘I tell you what, I'll call by 
later this afternoon, I've no doubt it'll all look different by then.' 

Darren turned at that, he felt a new wave of indignation, ‘Why won't you
even consider that I might be right, what's wrong with you people? 
After all just a few days ago you got bloody stroppy when I even 
mentioned the Tomblins. Why, why Claire eh?' 

He saw her swallow; she dug her hands deep into the pockets of her
fleece coat and narrowed her eyes, ‘Because what you intended was 
trespass plain and simple.' Claire looked flushed, angry, she seemed to 
be struggling to control her voice; he didn't understand her attitude 
one little bit. He saw Endleberry's hand clutch her arm; he saw once 
again the moisture on his brow, ‘We respect each other's rights here 
Darren, please try to understand that.' 

Darren sneered at the parson's words, it struck him as he stood in the
yard that he had been escorted from his own place. We respect each 
other's rights – and yet he was the one being propelled to leave. 

‘ The hell you do.' He pushed past them, back inside the hallway of the
bungalow, ‘In which case would you both mind leaving. I want to lock 
up.' 

And that was what he'd done the previous evening, he was sure. He'd
locked up. So how had Claire managed to push the door open so easily... 


‘I'll call on you later, take care.' Claire's voice dropped away, it was
quieter now, no anger there. But she and the parson were agitated, and 
the parson particularly seemed anxious to be going. He was already at 
Claire's car. 

He watched them leave, the wheels of her car churning up dust as she
left at speed. 

Out on the fens, somewhere to the back of his property, carried on the
wind that continually raged, he heard a shriek. That same awful sound 
it seemed only he in the village bothered about. The sound everybody 
else was oblivious to. 

*                                                  * 

Claire glanced in her mirror as they drove away from the bungalow,
Darren hadn't followed them out, his Jeep was in the yard, but it had 
all gone wrong, hopelessly wrong. 

Tomblin had tried to kill him, he'd said. Well he hadn't, not on this
occasion at any rate, but she'd only made matters worse, providing fuel 
for Darren's curiosity and transforming his dislike and suspicion of 
Tomblin into anger. Endleberry sat beside her, exhaling heavily, his 
fingers interlocked tightly as he twisted them back and forth. As they 
passed her old house he turned, she didn't need to meet his eyes to 
know his glance was a worried one. 

‘So what do you propose doing now?' he said after another heavy breath,
‘you didn't really think your idea would work did you? You've been very 
rash Claire.' 

‘Of course I thought it would work or I wouldn't have tried it,' Claire
shot him an indignant glance then sighed, ‘I thought a mild dose of 
Chloroform would do the trick, help him keep from prying into something 
he doesn't understand. I thought what little noise I made would be lost 
in the conditions. I didn't count on him realising someone was there. 
It wasn't only for his benefit you know, it was for...' 

‘You haven't answered my question,' Endleberry persisted, his voice
raised, edgy. ‘What are you going to do?' 

Claire looked at him, opened her mouth to speak but the words that were
on her tongue fell away before she could utter them. 

She saw by the narrowing of his eyes that he'd read her thoughts, ‘You
can't Claire, you mustn't go to McPherson. You know what the 
consequences of a search will be.' His voice had an odd croakiness to 
it as he gripped her arm, giving his words time to sink in, ‘You know 
Claire, you know only too well.' 

‘Let go of my arm David,' Claire sighed as his arm retracted, reached
the crossroads and turned left. Her nerves had taken a pounding of 
late, now the resilience she prided herself on was being tested to the 
full. If a rope in a tug of war could suffer emotion, that would be her 
right now. Because before, all she had to do was play safe, go along 
with things. She might not have liked it but that was the way things 
were. Accept what had happened and get on with your life, as long as 
you did that matters would lie. 

Now Darren Goldwater had entered the frame and things had changed. 

Claire felt her trepidation mounting as she headed into the village. 


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