Free The Ghost Fields (Ruth Galloway) by Elly Griffiths Page A

Nelson is looking at her oddly. ‘What’s the matter? I’m talking about millions of years ago.’
    Nelson shakes his head. ‘It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about something Old George said. He’s the granddad. He said that his mother hated this place because she thought nothing good would ever come of living on land that should really be at the bottom of the sea. She used to say that the sea wanted the land back.’
    Ruth looks out over the grey-green landscape. It might just be her imagination but she thinks that she can hear the sea. It has a roaring, urgent sound. She imagines the waves swallowing up the marshes and the grazing land, rising higher and higher until they cover the stone crosses and the garden wall and finally the house itself.
    ‘She thought she could hear sea sprites singing at night,’ says Nelson.
    Ruth looks at him out of the corner of her eye. She is relieved to see that he’s smiling.
    ‘We must introduce her to Cathbad.’
    ‘She died years ago,’ says Nelson with an involuntary glance at the looming graves. ‘Come on, let’s go round the other side of the house.’
    The inland side of the house boasts a barn, some outhouses – all derelict, a tree with a rope swing and an area fenced off by a low iron railing. Nelson hurdles this and, with rather more difficulty, Ruth follows. She sees immediately that they are in another graveyard, only this time the stones are small and regular in size.
    She squats down to read the engraved letters. ‘Blue, beloved friend. Rosie, never forgotten. Patch, faithful companion.’
    She looks up at Nelson. ‘It’s a pet’s burial ground.’ She feels her eyes filling with tears. She can’t bear to think what will happen when Flint dies.
    ‘Jesus,’ says Nelson. ‘More money than sense, these people.’
    Ruth turns away to avoid one of Nelson’s lectures on profligate people (usually southerners) who spend money on their pets while there are children starving. As she does so, she notices something.
    ‘Nelson. Look over there.’
    One corner of the graveyard is undulating like a bedspread with a sleeping body underneath. The soil has been disturbed and the turf is bare in places.
    ‘Something’s been dug up here,’ she says.
    ‘Either that,’ says Nelson, ‘or they’ve just buried a bloody big dog.’

CHAPTER 7
     
    ‘No,’ says Sally Blackstock, ‘we haven’t buried any pets there since Rooster died. That was when the children were young.’
    ‘Haven’t you got a dog now?’ asks Nelson. He has a vague memory of seeing a lead somewhere. Oh yes, it was on one of those scruffy armchairs in the kitchen. He had sat on it.
    ‘No,’ says Sally. ‘Dear old Beau died in the summer.’
    That figures. Nelson doesn’t imagine Sally tidies up very often.
    ‘What did you do with Beau’s . . . er . . . remains?’ he asks.
    ‘Oh, the vet cremates them now,’ says Sally. ‘It’s easier all round.’
    They are standing in the kitchen garden. When Ruth and Nelson had walked back to the house, they had found Sally there, holding a large cabbage and looking thoughtful. Nelson had introduced Ruth and asked about the pets’ burial ground, explaining that Dr Galloway thought there was evidence of recent ‘digging activity’.
    Now Sally points the cabbage’s muddy roots at Ruth. ‘I know you, don’t I? Weren’t you on telly? Doing that show about Mother Hook.’
    ‘Yes,’ says Ruth, aware of Nelson’s sardonic expression, ‘I was on that programme.’
    ‘It was with that dishy American, Frank Barker. George and I are big fans of his. Is he nice in real life?’
    ‘Yes,’ says Ruth. ‘Very nice.’
    ‘Leaving the dishy Frank Barker aside,’ says Nelson, ‘do you know of any reason why anyone may have been digging in the pets’ burial ground?’
    ‘No,’ says Sally. ‘It’s a mystery, isn’t it?’
     
    ‘It’s a mystery all right,’ says Nelson as they make their way back over the field. ‘The mystery is how