Six
It was a long drive to Cumbria the next day. The fact that Brian had taken the precaution of hiding his research across the country, in such a random place, added to Hunter’s fear of the enormity of what they might find.
Hunter would have gone alone, but James insisted on accompanying him, because how could he help if he wasn’t there. Sophie, with some embarrassment, asked to come because she dare not be alone yet. Charlotte couldn’t take such a trip - Hunter discovered with some dismay that she was suffering with morning sickness.
So Hunter and James sat in the front, arguing over whether to listen to Grimshaw or Evans, and Sophie sat in the back, reading quietly.
“So, you gonna to tell us where we’re going?” James eventually asked.
“Carlisle.” Hunter replied shortly.
“Carlisle? Christ, we’ll be driving all day!” James twisted in his seat to look back at Sophie, “Hey, Soph, did you know about Carlisle, I mean, did Brian say owt?”
Sophie glanced up from her book, frowning at the shortening of her name. “No. He never mentioned where he was going. He just used to disappear for a couple of days every fortnight. I just assumed he had a woman somewhere.”
The two men shuddered at the thought of old Brian with a woman. And all settled in for a long drive.
*****
It was mid-afternoon by the time they got there. Hunter pulled up outside a plain building. “Keep the car running.” He said to James. “I’ll be back in a minute. Hopefully.”
They waited in silence. James started to drum his fingertips on the wheel as he gazed out of the window avidly, as though expecting a witch to leap on them right there.
Sophie gritted her teeth against the annoying sound. “Can you stop that?”
“Sorry.” James replied sheepishly. “Nervous.”
Hunter wasn’t long; he soon stepped out of the building with a large sports bag, which he dumped in the car boot before jumping back into the driver’s seat and driving off without a word.
“You can’t tell me we’re going to drive all the way home before looking at what’s in there?” Sophie asked sceptically.
Hunter grinned in the rear-view mirror. “You think we can wait that long?”
They drove until they were out of the town and kept going until they found a roadside picnic area. The place was empty, and it was quiet, except from the steady traffic that roared by, passengers ignorant of everything outside the car.
The three of them sat around a worn wooden bench, with the bag in front of them. Hunter glanced at the other two - this was it. He slowly unzipped the bag. Inside there were stacks of papers, some cardboard files and such. The three of them craned forward, then gingerly picked through it all.
“Well, here’s some information on a period of intense persecution of wiccans by witches. It doesn’t give dates on this sheet though,” Hunter peered into the bag. “There should be the rest of it in there…”
“Hm, this file has records of witches and wiccans from - wow, the 1940s.” Sophie voiced.
“Well, this might be important, but I’ll be damned if I can read it.” James said, as he leafed through some old papers with scrawled handwriting.
They continued to look through the work for another half-hour, it seemed as though Brian had a unique way of ordering things. They made no immediate discovery to how it was all linked, nor to why it was so important to Brian. It was quite the anti-climax.
James was the first to admit defeat. He pushed the papers back into the bag. “Look, we aint gonna solve this in the next five minutes, and I feel uncomfy havin’ these out in the open.”
“Home we go then.” Hunter suggested, not relishing another five hour drive.
“Actually,” Sophie interrupted. “My mum doesn’t live far away, over in the Lake District. I was going to ask if you could drop me off - I haven’t seen her since I joined Brian. But I’m sure she’d put us all up for the night, and we can drive down tomorrow.”
“I vote yes.” James immediately piped up.
“Be careful, Sophie, that was you almost being nice to us,” Hunter teased. “But yes, why not. And we get to meet your mother!”
*****
The countryside was beautiful, wild hills and deep valleys, the road twisted and rose and fell to make its way through nature. Often a wide expanse of water lay off to one side or the other, a few boats still out on the lakes on a fine evening. With Sophie’s directions they came to the village of Keswick and were soon pulling up outside her mother’s house. It was an old cottage on the outskirts of the village and the whole atmosphere of the place was one of rough country warmth.
Hunter lugged the big bag with him as he and James followed Sophie up to the front door.
“Mum!” Sophie called out as she opened the door.
The figure of Mrs Murphy quickly came to meet them, the poor woman getting a shock at the state of her daughter; she reached out, tenderly touching the darkly-bruised face, her eyes taking in the fresh cuts on Sophie’s bare arms. “Oh my darling, my Sophie.”
Mrs Murphy was just as tall as her daughter, just as graceful in figure. It was easy to see where Sophie got her looks from. Although when Mrs Murphy finally turned to her visitors, it was with a softer expression than her daughter had ever managed.
“Mum, this is Hunter and James, my colleagues.” Sophie introduced.
All softness that Hunter perceived was suddenly revoked when Mrs Murphy worked out that these were the evil witch-hunters that had led her daughter astray.
“Mum, these were the ones that saved my life, when I was in Italy.” Sophie stressed each word, warning her dear mother to behave herself.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Murphy.” Hunter said, extending his hand.
“Please, call me Bev.” She replied with a polite smile, still undecided on whether to like these two young men. “I’m afraid all I can offer our guests is the fold-out settee in the conservatory. I’ll let you put your bags - er, bag down.”
She showed them through the small cottage to the make-shift guest room. As oldy-worldy and traditional as the cottage had looked from the outside, the interior was all cool, modern lines and light colours. Hunter and James politely dawdled in the warm conservatory, giving Sophie time with her mum. But eventually they joined them back in the small living room.
The two women were sitting together on the settee, heads close as they talked, and Bev didn’t look happy. “You shouldn’t be travelling in your condition, only out of hospital. Oh that you ended up in hospital!”
“Mum! It was my choice to do this, and I don’t regret any of it. I’ve already explained how important it is.” Sophie stressed, holding her mother’s gaze until the older woman dropped her eyes.
“Why you have to choose such danger, I don’t know. You could have left it to others.” Bev said bitterly. She then looked up, noticing the two men hovering by the door. She blushed at being overheard. “Well, I suppose none of you will have eaten. You’ll have to make do with my cooking.”
Before anyone could say anything, or offer to help, Bev took herself off to the kitchen.
“Don’t pay her any attention.” Sophie said harshly. “She doesn’t blame you guys - or at least, she shouldn’t. She doesn’t agree with my decision to join the MMC, as you probably heard.”
“She’s got a right to be worried.” James replied with a shrug.
Sophie sighed, twisting to look towards the kitchen, clearly annoyed with her mother.
“Come on, she’s not that bad for a mum, she cares for you, that’s all.” James continued. “Just wait til you meet Hunter’s!”
Hunter gave him a scathing look. “Nobody wants to hear about her. So was this where you grew up?”
“Yes.”
“What? That’s it? No childhood stories you want to share?”
Sophie looked at both of them questioningly. “No. What’s to tell? I grew up, then left to work in the city. If you’re wanting tales of mad, rebellious youth, I’ve got to disappoint you.”
*****
An hour later, Bev came to tell them dinner was ready, and they followed her to the delicious smells of toad-in-the-hole.
“Brilliant.” James grinned as he sat down, loving everything that remotely resembled Yorkshire Pudding.
Hunter sat down, noticing that Bev looked calmer now. It must have been the shock of seeing her daughter injured. Now the older woman was bordering on friendly.
Over dinner, they all started to chat about small things - Mrs Murphy quizzing the two men over every detail she could think of; how they’d gotten into witch-hunting? Had they gone to university? Oh, Oxford, what did they study?
She smiled down at her more reserved daughter. “I can see why you were so interested in witch-hunting, Sophie, not all professional is it? Yes, you’ll have to excuse my daughter, she does have a romantic side to her.”
Hunter had to stop himself choking on his food, and he looked up, seeing that James shared the joke. Sophie, romantic? Sure, if she wasn’t such a frozen bitch.
Sophie frowned at her teasing mother’s insinuations. “Behave yourself, mother, or I’ll lock you in the pantry again.”
The rest of the evening passed agreeably enough, but as they were all about to retire, Bev held Hunter back.
“Look, I know you mean well, and I’m sure you’re a nice boy, but I don’t want you to get involved with my daughter.”
Hunter was surprised at the cold look Bev gave him, “Look, Mrs Murphy-”
But Bev stopped him. “You should be going to bed, Mr Astley. I’m assuming that you’ll want to set off early tomorrow.”
Then she left him. Ugh, bloody parents. With the exception of his own mother, it seemed they were all over-protective.
Hunter went into the conservatory, where the settee had been pulled out into a double bed, James already sitting in it - fully clothed, thank goodness.
“Hey, there’s always the floor.” James laughed in response to Hunter’s grimacing expression.
“No, I just hope you don’t snore tonight. Budge over.”
The light was clicked off and the two mates lay there, both awake.
“So… Sophie’s mum seems ok, she really warmed up after a while. I thought she was gonna kick us out when she heard we were witch-hunters.”
“Yeah.” Hunter grunted noncommittally. Mrs Murphy had changed from hostile to friendly in the blink of an eye, finishing things off with that motherly warning. Hunter decided that he preferred Sophie’s frosty personality – at least he knew where he stood with her.
“I was thinking, about Sophie.” James continued, not taking the hint. “I mean, she’s a bonny lass. What do y’think, I got a chance? Or do you think the timing’s inappropriate, you know with Brian and all.”
Hunter sat bolt upright. “Look, just because we’re sharing a bed, doesn’t make this a girly sleepover.”
“Ah, sorry mate.”
Hunter lay down again. What did he think? That he was likelier to get any girl over James, harsh but true. But then he wasn’t interested in Sophie; cold, beautiful Sophie. At least, he wasn’t interested in that way. “Just do me a favour, James. Wait until we all get home.”