Free The Whitby Witches 1 - The Whitby Witches by Robin Jarvis Page B

north wind blasted in off the sea and even the buildings seemed to shiver and shrink closer into the cliffs.
    In the afternoon Ben went for a walk alone. Jennet was brooding in her room and he sensed the tension between her and Aunt Alice, but at least they were staying in Whitby. He stood on the church steps and leant on the handrail. Set into the wall of one of the houses below, he noticed three large ammonites, just above the lintel. Ben grinned—it was just as the story had said.
    He looked up at the gulls and stretched out his arms like wings. After drawing a deep breath he squawked, mocking them as loudly as he could, and tore up the steps. When he reached the top, Ben threw himself on the grass around the gravestones and rolled over so he could see the sky.
    A miserable collection of people was mooching around the church and he heard the dull drone of their voices, although he did not sit up to see them. One of the group was evidently a child—a boy. He was asking questions to someone who Ben presumed was his mother, and she was answering with a voice full of irritation. Curiously he turned on his side just to make sure.
    There they were trailing along the path, a family of three, and all dressed in totally inappropriate clothes for this sort of weather. They were obviously trippers who had not come prepared for anything other than sunshine. The father was walking a little ahead with his hands thrust into his pockets and the mother was trying to control her flapping summer dress with one hand whilst clinging on to her son with the other.
    The boy was roughly around Ben's age. He wore red shorts and his legs looked pinched and cold. An extra strong gust caught the woman unawares and she shrieked as her skirt blew right up. Her son seized his chance and escaped from her clutches.
    Into the forest of gravestones he scarpered and, squealing his name at the top of her shrill voice, his mother chased after him. The boy knew his freedom would be shortlived, so he looked round for something to take his temper out on.
    'Get lost, Dracula!' he bawled, raising his foot and giving the nearest headstone a mighty kick.
    His mother screeched as she snatched him up once more. 'Don't you ever do that again!' she yelled. 'If your father catches you he'll cripple you. Show some respect!' With that she slapped his legs and the boy let loose a dreadful howl.
    Ben winced; that must have hurt—especially with it being so cold. He lay back in the grass once more and found himself thanking his stars that he and Jennet had never been sent to people like them.
    The family passed along the path nearby. The boy stared unhappily at Ben, shamed by the red mark which glowed on his leg.
    Chewing a piece of grass, he contemplated the previous night's happenings. He was not exactly sure why Jennet had been so cold towards Aunt Alice that morning, but it must have had something to do with what he had seen. If only he was like everyone else.
    The evening was drawing in but he had no desire to go back yet, especially if the atmosphere had not lifted. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down on the harbour. A fishing boat was sailing out to sea, defying the rough waves. Ben remembered that he had still not visited the lifeboat museum and promised himself that treat for tomorrow. His gaze followed the progress of the boat as it sailed out to sea; as he turned his head to do so something startled him.
    On one of the tomb slabs sat a small figure.
    It was silhouetted against the horizon and, until his eyes adjusted to the light, Ben could not make it out. It was as large as a child, and wore a dark-blue fishing jersey. A battered canvas bag was slung over one arm and poking out of it was a slimy bundle of seaweed. The head of the figure was hunched deep into its shoulders and the neck of the thickly-knitted garment had been pulled up over its ears. Its back was turned to Ben so he could not see the face. To make identification even more difficult,