The Christmas of Adventure

©2015 June E.

Philip, Dinah, Jack and Lucy-Ann are excited at the prospect of spending their first Christmas together, but by Christmas Eve all their plans lie in ruins. Things get even worse when a severe snowstorm brings the country to a standstill and leaves Bill snowbound, hundreds of miles away. Forced to fend for themselves in Bill's remote moorland cottage, rumours abound of a strange and terrifying creature lurking in the woods nearby... and with a ruthless thief on the loose, striking at night and stealing birds from the local Sanctuary, the scene is set for a frightening and perilous adventure. Can they stop the thief before it's too late? Or will Kiki be the robber's next victim?

Chapter 34: '...now it's time for a taste of your own medicine.'

Back | Index | Next

Following Dinah's directions, Bill strode down the lane towards Drear Cottage. From there he would plunge into Moorland wood, and hopefully pick up the trail of footprints left by the children. The day was crisp and clear and there were few people about. As he walked through the village, the delicious tang of wood smoke hung in the air; most villagers were indoors keeping cosy on that cold winter's day. Vibrant green holly wreathes adorned the cottage doors, and here and there a Christmas tree twinkled in a cottage window. Bill imagined the family within sitting by the fire, playing games or reading together in companionable silence. He felt a slight pang at that thought, for he longed for a family of his own... but then he gave himself a shake, for this was no time for such thoughts. He had work to do.

As he approached Drear Cottage he made a sudden decision to call on Mrs Grouch under the pretext of asking how she was. In truth he was curious to see if Burt was at home. He knocked on the door smartly. No one answered, but he thought he saw a curtain twitch, and he felt sure that someone was at home. He knocked again, more loudly this time, determined to stay there until someone answered. Eventually he heard footsteps, and Hilda Grouch opened the door a crack, looking a little flustered. She was carrying a mop, and had evidently been cleaning the hall floor.

'Good afternoon, Hilda,' said Bill brightly. 'I've come to see how you are. May I come in?'

Mrs Grouch didn't budge an inch.

'I'm just in the middle of mopping the floor, Inspector Cunningham, I'm afraid I can't invite you in. But I'm fine, thank you for asking.'

At that moment, Woffly, who had eaten the crumb of cake and was now searching for his next snack, ran into the hallway. When Mrs Grouch saw Woffly scampering by, she let out an ear-splitting shriek. Staggering away from the harmless little mouse, she tripped over the mop bucket and clattered to the floor, the bucket of hot soapy water tipping over and drenching her from head to toe.

'Woffly!' exclaimed Bill. 'Is that you?'

Recognising Bill immediately, Woffly ran directly to him, darted up his trouser leg, and then shot into his pocket; there, he settled down comfortably.

Bill rounded on the sopping wet Mrs Grouch, who, for the second time in a week, was drenched and flailing about on the floor.

'If Woffly's here, then Philip must be here also – where is he?' he demanded.

'There are no boys in this house!' spluttered a furious Mrs Grouch, her carefully applied make-up running in streaks down her soapy, wet face.

But Lucy-Ann, with her ear to the cellar door, thought she had heard Bill's familiar voice, and she yelled out at the top of her lungs.

'Bill! Bill! I'm locked in the cellar! Help!'

Bill got quite a fright when he finally found the key and released Lucy-Ann from the coal cellar, for she was quite unrecognisable. There were no remaining traces of her usual clean and neat appearance – instead, the creature who tumbled out from the cellar was black with coal dust from head to foot, apart from the whites of her eyes, which looked abnormally white against the darkness of her coal black face. As she moved, clouds of black dust were sent flying all around the kitchen, and soon the polished floor and sparkling clean worktops covered in a fine layer of coal dust. Mrs Grouch looked aghast.

Bill noticed her expression.

'Oh, I wouldn't trouble yourself about a bit of dirt, Mrs Grouch,' he said sternly, his face like thunder. 'You are going to have far more serious problems to deal with – such as explaining why you had a child locked up in your cellar – but you can save your explanations for the police.'

'Bill, we have to get to the Midnight Man's hideaway – Philip and Jack might be in trouble,' said Lucy-Ann urgently. 'I know the way there.'

Bill looked at the damp and dishevelled Mrs Grouch, still sitting in a collapsed heap on the floor.

'I'm not going to let you escape justice, Hilda Grouch...' he said, casting about for an idea. Then it came to him.

'I know! Get into the coal cellar – I'm going to lock you in there until the police arrive.'

'In that dirty, spider-infested place – never!' exclaimed Mrs Grouch.

'Well, you didn't hesitate to lock Lucy-Ann in there, so now it's time for a taste of your own medicine,' insisted Bill. 'You can either get into the cellar quietly, or I am going to set Woffly loose and put him in there with you – which is it to be?'

Now Mrs Grouch's horror of mice was even worse that her horror of birds, and so on hearing Bill's threat she got into the cellar without uttering another word! Bill turned the key in the lock – now, she was a prisoner, safe and sound until the police arrived.

Bill ordered Lucy-Ann to wash her hands and face at the kitchen sink, whilst he made a hasty telephone call to the sanctuary to let Harry know what was happening and ask him to send for the police. Harry explained that it was PC Batty's day off, but he would telephone the police station at Buckland, the nearest large town.

'Buckland's thirty miles away,' said Bill, as he replaced the telephone receiver. 'Come on, Lucy-Ann, we can't wait any longer – we'll have to find Philip and Jack. You'll have to show me the way through the woods.'

Lucy-Ann cut quite a bizarre figure as she strode over the snowy ground, leaving dirty footprints as she went. Her hair was now straggly, black and matted, and hardly a glimpse of her green coat was visible under the coal dust. As they hurried, Lucy-Ann described how she heard the Midnight Man's footsteps and hid under the holly bush, and then she glimpsed his tall, fur-clad figure and smelt his foul stench.

'That's when I decided to run for help to Mr and Mrs Grouch's cottage,' she explained. 'I felt sure they would help me, but instead of letting my telephone you, Mrs Grouch acted very strangely – and then locked me in the cellar,' she continued, with a puzzled expression on her dirty face. 'I just don't understand it.'

'I'm afraid you sought help in the most dangerous possible place,' said Bill.

He went on the explain Dinah's suspicions about Burt Grouch.

'I think Dinah's right – Burt Grouch is the Midnight Man and has been stealing birds from the sanctuary. Even the foul smell you mentioned fits his description – after all, Burt works on a pig farm. What you said to Mrs Grouch made her realise what Burt had been up to, and she wanted to try to save him. Perhaps she had had suspicions for some time. Even though they don't get on very well, the respectable Hilda Grouch wouldn't have wanted to be part of a scandal.'

'Well, she's part of one now,' said Lucy-Ann grimly, for she had not yet forgiven Mrs Grouch for locking her in that dark, dirty cellar.

As they neared the oak tree, Bill put his finger to his lips and whispered, 'We have to be quiet now, we don't know if Burt is still about.'

'Do you really think he would hurt Jack and Philip?' whispered Lucy-Ann anxiously.

'The truth is, I just don't know,' admitted Bill. 'You can never predict what someone might do when they're desperate.'

Lucy-Ann found this hardly comforting. It wasn't like Bill to frighten her, but he looked different to the usual, jolly old Bill. Instead, his face looked stern, businesslike and serious. Then she realised.

'Bill isn't being our Bill,' she thought. 'He's being a policeman – he's being Inspector Cunningham.

All was quiet when they reached the oak tree, with no signs of anyone about. Lucy-Ann was dismayed when she realised that she would have to climb the rope ladder and cross over on the overhanging tree branch.

'We'll climb it together,' said Bill. 'I won't let you fall.'

Lucy-Ann went first, with Bill close behind.

'Just keep looking straight ahead and don't look down,' ordered Bill.

Lucy-Ann found that by not looking down she felt a lot less nervous and giddy. She resolved that in future, when she had to climb, she would use this trick and be much less afraid.

'I'll never be as brave as Dinah, but I might learn to be bolder than I am now,' she thought.

Something happened when they were half way across the oak branch! There was a sudden noise from the hut, which was now just in their sights.

'Freeze!' hissed Bill.

Bill and Lucy-Ann clung to the branch, suspended high above the blackthorn, not moving and hardly daring to breathe. They saw the enormous figure of the Midnight Man emerge from the hut carrying a bird bowl containing stale water, which he tipped out onto the snow. Then he went back inside, closing the door firmly. Bill felt worried at the sight of such a tall, strong-looking man.

'I don't want to get into a straight fight with him,' he thought. 'He's so big, I might not be able to over-power him. I'll have to think of another angle.'

When they reached the end of the branch, Bill made sure that Lucy-Ann was safely down on the ground before ordering her to take refuge behind a large tangle of brambles. Keeping close to the blackthorn hedge so as not to leave tell-tale footprints, she crept to the brambles and then dived behind them with relief. Looking at Bill still high in the tree, she watched with horror. For Bill had decided on a plan, and it was full of risk and danger. He took out his pen knife and cut down the rope ladder! Then, he jumped to the ground, landing with a thud on the snow. At first he laid low and remained silent, waiting to see if the Midnight Man had heard him and would come out of the hut – but nothing happened. So Bill stealthily crept over to the waiting Lucy-Ann, bringing the rope ladder with him, and soon both were safely concealed.

'Why have you cut down the ladder?' whispered an incredulous Lucy-Ann, her eyes wide with horror.

'Two reasons,' whispered Bill. 'First, I have cut off the Midnight Man's main means of escape, and second, I need the rope from the ladder.'

'Err, but what about our means of escape!' gasped Lucy-Ann.

'Oh never mind about that,' said Bill authoritatively. 'We've got work to do, and we have to be quick. Did you notice, Lucy-Ann, that there were two sizes of footprints going into the hut – the Midnight Man's huge ones, and two sets of smaller ones which must belong to Jack and Philip. But there were no small footprints walking away from the hut, and that means the boys are still inside.'

'How are we going to rescue them?' asked Lucy-Ann, her lip trembling and a look of anxiety on her face.

'We're going to set a trap.'

Back | Index | Next