Free A Hint of Witchcraft by Anna Gilbert Page B

Katie was a stranger. She saw instead the shrinking figure, the anxious face, the trembling; felt the awfulness of the situation, the awfulness of Miss Burdon and her beads.
    â€˜Never mind.’ She put her arm round Katie’s thin shoulders. ‘I’ll look after you. I’ll always look after you.’ She took her hand and led her to the hall.
    *   *   *
    Mrs Roper, putting plates to warm in the small oven, had been drawn nearer to the kitchen door by the sound of Miss Burdon’s voice. The opening sentences were enough to convey a sense of urgency. The word ‘police’ caused her to whip off her apron. It took her little more than five minutes to reach the Judds’ house in Clint Lane and, panting, to raise the alarm.
    Mrs Judd was alone and as usual at her wash tub. The small house was full of the warm damp smell of soap suds.
    â€˜She’s there, I tell you, without as much as a hat on her head and raising Cain. But she did say she wouldn’t go to the police.’
    Even the reassurance was received as a threat.
    â€˜If she did it would be over my dead body.’ Mrs Judd leaned for a moment on her poss-stick for support against a tide of troubles that never ebbed. ‘Slip along to Number Seven, will you, and tell our Emily while I get my good shoes on.’
    She had barely eased her swollen feet into them when Emily appeared with a six-month-old baby in her arms.
    â€˜If our Katie’s stolen them beads, it’s the first thing she’s ever stolen in her whole life.’ A faint reflection of the scowl darkening her brow might even then be seen on that of the infant: he was a Judd all over.
    â€˜She’d mean no harm, poor little soul,’ Mrs Roper said, ‘and she’s never taken anything from my kitchen, I can swear to that.’
    â€˜There’s no knowing what she might do. She’s not of this world and never will be. I’ve known that since the minute I first laid eyes on her. “What’s this, Polly?” Jo says. “I think we’ve got the fairies to thank for this one”. “You’re not accusing me of wrong-doing, I hope”, I says to him, “Nay, love”, he says. “She’s taken after my mother’s side. They were all pale and fair. It was the Judds that were always dark and gruesome-like. This one’s going to be different”.’
    â€˜He never spoke a truer word,’ Emily said, and seeing the rare glint of tears in her mother’s eyes added, ‘and he loved her best. Whatever her troubles, he loved our Katie best.’
    â€˜And that’s something.’ Mrs Roper propped the blazer on the ash-box and turned back the clipping mat. ‘There’s no taking that away from her. Say what you like, it pays to have a man behind you when there’s trouble. With Rob away at sea, it’s a pity your Ewan isn’t here.’
    Ewan had gone after a job at the rope-works in the coastal town where his father had worked as a boy. He’d got a lift there but would likely be walking back – ten miles if it was an inch.
    â€˜It’s maybe a good thing he isn’t here,’ Emily said. ‘He’s got a temper, our Ewan. And little Stanley,’ she referred to the baby, ‘he’s the image of both his uncles, isn’t he, Mam?’
    â€˜I’ll have to be getting back.’ Mrs Roper glanced at the wall clock. ‘It’ll be time to put the potatoes on.’
    At Monk’s Dene she ushered them through the kitchen to the hall. The front door stood open. Miss Burdon’s ample figure filled the space it left. Sarah had subsided on to a chair. Margot, holding Katie’s hand, faced Miss Burdon and as much of the summer morning as was still visible beyond her. An impasse had been reached. The Judds to some extent constituted a relieving force but little relief was felt.
    â€˜I’ve heard what you’re