Itchcraft (22 page)

Itch strode along the church wall. He found the phone’s video function, pressed the red button and held the glowing screen up in front of him, pointing it at whoever was working amongst the trees.

‘Itch, no!’ called Jack. ‘Just call the police!’ But Itch kept filming.

‘Hey, you!’ he shouted at the men, his voice sounding unbelievably loud. ‘That’s right, you! We’ve found you! Caught in the act!’ He heard Jack curse behind him but he carried on, his head buzzing. Somewhere he registered a nano-particle of thought that suggested he was being unbelievably stupid, but he kept filming.

He saw the men freeze; then panic. They grabbed some of their equipment and took off through the churchyard towards their van.

‘And I’m calling the police too!’ Itch called after them, then jumped as a hand wrapped itself round his mouth.

‘For God’s sake, shut up,’ said Jack angrily. ‘Have you lost it completely?’ She glared at him, her hand still firmly over his mouth.

From the other side of the churchyard came the sound of slamming doors, an engine starting and squealing tyres.

‘Good, so they’ve gone,’ she said, her eyes still blazing. ‘But what if they had run at you, rather than
from
you? What then? And maybe, just maybe, they’ll know who you are given that your face is plastered over every newspaper. Honestly, Itch, you can be really stupid sometimes.’

Itch was reeling. Jack had never spoken to him like that before; he found he had absolutely nothing to say. They just stared at each other until, behind them, they heard a front door being unlocked. They jumped over the wall and ran round the church, registering a can of purple spray paint lying amongst the trees.

As they neared Jack’s house, a police siren, scarily close, made them jump. Jack fumbled for her key, and finding it deep in her pocket, eased them both into the dark sanctuary of her hallway. They stood panting, facing each other, wide-eyed. Fighting for breath but desperately trying to keep quiet was making them both faint. They stumbled into the kitchen and sat on the floor, listening to the siren, expecting a knock on the door at any moment. For a long time they didn’t speak. Two more sirens and more flashing lights passed by. They sat there without moving until everything was quiet again.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, handing her the phone.

Jack snatched it back. ‘Don’t ever do anything that stupid again,’ she said, her voice only slightly calmer. ‘Promise me, Itch – you need to tell me that.’

‘OK, I promise. But it was a Geiger counter, Jack, in the churchyard!’

‘I know –
I
told you that!’ She played back the footage from the churchyard and Itch leaned over to watch it.

‘You can see their faces,’ he said.

‘And their surprise that anyone could be quite so stupid,’ added Jack.

There was silence before Itch swivelled to face her. ‘But you realize what this means?’ he said.

‘No, but you’re going to tell me.’

‘It means they weren’t vandals at all. Maybe none of them were. They’re not wrecking stuff, Jack; they’re
looking
for stuff. And on the basis of what we’ve just seen, they’re looking for radioactive stuff.’

The kitchen was silent for a few moments.

‘Itch, I’m getting scared again,’ said Jack.

Itch took a deep breath. ‘Me too.’

The following morning Itch slept so long that Chloe had to come and check up on him.

‘I’m awake,’ he grunted as the door squeaked open.

‘Getting worried,’ Chloe said. ‘Not like you to be in bed after nine.’

He peered at her blearily, pushed the hair out of his eyes and slumped back onto the pillow. ‘Bit late last night,’ he said, still groggy.

Chloe looked puzzled. ‘But you went to bed when we did,’ she said. ‘You online or something?’ She saw the note on the floor where Itch had left it and knelt down to read. ‘
At church with Jack?
Itch? You went to church?’ She handed him the piece of paper and he crumpled it into a ball.

Sitting up, he motioned for Chloe to shut the door. ‘Jack called me. There were men in the churchyard. We went down and they were digging—’

‘Wait, wait,’ said Chloe, her hand raised. ‘Last night, after Gabe and I left you, you and Jack were at the church?’

‘She called me! Get this: they had a Geiger counter. They were looking for radioactive stuff in the churchyard. That’s what all this destruction has been about.’

‘And this note,’ said Chloe, ‘was instead of a text to that police number, I suppose?’

‘You sound just like Mum.’ Itch flopped back onto his pillow. ‘But at least I left you a note. I learned that from last time.’

‘What does Jack think?’

Itch sighed. ‘Jack’s mad at me because I filmed them on her camera. And they noticed.’ He pre-empted Chloe who, he knew, was about to shout at him. He held up his hands. ‘I know it was stupid – OK? I wasn’t exactly planning to do it, you know.’

‘But, Itch, they could have attacked you . . .’

‘I know,’ said Itch defensively, ‘but I was in shock. It was the sound of the clicks, I think. I just wasn’t expecting to hear that in a churchyard.’

‘Where exactly were they digging?’

‘The far corner, under the trees.’

‘What’s there?’ asked Chloe.

‘No idea,’ said Itch.

‘Well, get dressed and we’ll find out.’

‘Your head OK?’

Chloe nodded. ‘It’s fine.’

Itch was up in a matter of minutes. There was a note from Jude saying she’d be back from work to get dinner, and one from Nicholas explaining that he’d had to return to South Africa on some urgent business but that Jacob Alexander had said yes to a visit to the mining school.

‘There goes the lift to the hospital,’ said Itch.

‘Gabe’s passed his test,’ said Chloe. ‘He might take us.’

‘We’ll ask,’ said Itch as they shut the front door, ‘but let’s see what the vandals were sniffing around last night.’

‘You said you’d recorded them?’ said Chloe.

‘On Jack’s phone. We could put it on YouTube. Then they won’t try to mess around anywhere else.’

Chloe shook her head. ‘How about the police? Shouldn’t they see it?’

‘I was thinking that. But you know how they reacted last time. They thought I might have been responsible for the parcel bombs. If they find out I was in the churchyard when the place was being vandalized, they’ll be far more interested in what I was doing there than in the guys with the Geiger counter.’

They turned the corner – and stopped. A police car was parked near where Itch and Jack had been crouched the previous night; police incident tape was stretched across the road.

‘C’mon, let’s see how close we can get,’ said Chloe. They walked down the hill towards the church and heard running footsteps behind them.

‘Hey, you guys!’ said Jack, catching them up. ‘Saw you walking past. So Itch told you about last night, Chloe.’ She linked arms with her cousin. Itch looked sheepish.

‘Yup,’ said Chloe. ‘Classic Itch. We were discussing what to do with the video he took.’

‘Maybe nothing,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll show it to you. Doesn’t look like we’ll get anywhere near the church again, though.’ She nodded at two policemen and a priest, who stood staring into the trees where the vandals had been the night before.

‘We saw nothing, we say nothing,’ said Itch. ‘Last thing we need is to be part of another police enquiry. They’ll blame me if they get the chance.’

One of the officers looked up and called them over. ‘Itchingham Lofte, isn’t it? Saw you on TV.’ He nodded at Chloe. ‘This your sister?’

Chloe bridled. ‘Yes, I’m his sister, I’m Chloe,’ she said. ‘This is our cousin, Jack.’

The officer nodded. ‘You looked like you were in a bad way.’

‘I’m OK now, thanks. What’s going on here?’ Chloe was keen to change the subject.

The policeman glanced back at the trees. Between the trunks they could see a weathered granite wheel-headed cross, now leaning at a precarious angle and held up by one of the trees. ‘More attacks, I’m afraid. You live close by – did you hear anything last night?’

Itch looked at the ground and Jack said, ‘What sort of thing?’

‘Anything out of the ordinary. Anything unusual?’

All three of them shrugged. ‘No,’ said Chloe. ‘We’d have been asleep, I guess.’

A tall thin man with an angular, lived-in face came over, his clerical dog collar visible underneath his coat. He managed a smile at Chloe.

‘We were all shocked to see what happened in Spain. Your brother is very brave. We could have done with you here last night. Some vandals attacked our Cornish cross in the trees there, but ran off before they could spray those wretched words. They left their can of graffiti spray behind, though.’

Jack and Itch exchanged the briefest of glances. ‘Is the cross damaged?’ asked Jack.

‘Yes, it looks as though they were trying to dig it up, but they were interrupted, thankfully,’ said the priest. ‘It’s the oldest part of the churchyard. It’s thought that the cross was assembled hundreds of years ago from some ancient Logan stones and had supernatural powers. It could either heal you or turn you into a witch . . . I forget now.’ He smiled. ‘Bunkum, of course, but historic bunkum, so thank God someone scared them off. Whoever it was has done us a service.’

To which the police officer added, ‘And should come and tell us about it. We’d like to talk to them.’

Itch started to pull at Jack’s arm. ‘Don’t we need to get back . . .’

‘Yeah, we should go,’ Jack said. ‘Hope you catch them . . .’ And they turned and walked back up the hill. They exchanged wide-eyed glances, but no words until they had turned the corner.

‘Oh my God, they were talking about
us
!’ said Jack. ‘They must know!’

‘But how could they?’ said Itch. ‘There was no one else around, and if they suspected me they’d take me in for sure.’

‘But the “whoever it was has done us a service” stuff . . .’ said Jack. ‘Was that just a coincidence?’

‘I think so,’ said Itch slowly. ‘Probably.’

‘I never knew about that cross,’ said Chloe. ‘More stones with special powers . . .’ She grinned at Itch.

‘Ideal,’ he said. ‘Just what we need.’

‘And that can turn you into a witch,’ said Jack. ‘Maybe Darcy spent time here once.’

They were still laughing when they walked into the Loftes’ kitchen.

Gabriel was sitting exactly where he’d been when they returned the day before: legs crossed, but with coffee this time, he looked up from his laptop. ‘No news stories about you guys today, as far as I can see. Losing your touch, Itch. Where’ve you been, anyway?’

‘Another
MM
attack. At the church here,’ said Itch, not sure how much to say. He knew he was looking awkward, so he went and rummaged for some biscuits.

Gabriel sat up. ‘Really? Got any pictures?’ He missed Chloe’s glance at Jack.

‘Er, no,’ said Itch. ‘But go have a look. Police are still there.’

Gabriel sipped more coffee. ‘Might do that,’ he said. ‘Want to see the news sites? You’ve left behind more chaos in Spain. More burning money, and riots. Some of the bad euros have turned up in France and Portugal too.’ He showed them the latest footage, which looked identical to what they’d watched the day before. ‘The markets are going mad, the euro’s plunging and everyone’s panicking. Apart from that, all quiet.’

‘You know Dad’s gone again . . .’ said Chloe.

‘Yes, I saw the note,’ said Gabriel. ‘Jacob Alexander called him early, apparently.’

Jack nudged Itch. ‘Oh yeah. Could you drive us to the mining school, Gabe? Dad was going to do it, but obviously he can’t now. Jacob said he’d take a look at my burned euro. Do some tests.’

‘What’s in it for me?’ asked Gabriel, smiling.

‘The thrill of being part of family life for a change.’ Itch mirrored his brother’s expression.

‘OK, well argued,’ said Gabriel. ‘When do we go?’

Within ten minutes Itch, Jack and Chloe were sitting in the family car – to be driven by Gabriel for the first time.

‘He was easier to persuade than I thought!’ whispered Jack in Chloe’s ear on the back seat. She smiled as Gabriel started the engine and retuned his parents’ radio.

‘Let’s call by for Lucy,’ said Jack. ‘Is that OK, Gabe? She’s sort of on the way . . .’

‘Ah yes . . . The beautiful and mysterious Lucy.’ He smiled at Itch, who was sitting next to him. ‘Sure we can call for her.’

‘She’s not mysterious,’ said Itch, flushing slightly.

‘Well, she kept that whole Cake’s daughter thing quiet, didn’t she? Last time I saw her was at the hospital in London after you guys had burned down the school with the well, and she was just about to tell you who she was. Seemed mysterious to me.’

Loud music filled the car, and Chloe leaned towards Jack. ‘Notice he didn’t dispute the “beautiful” bit!’ she whispered, and they both grinned.

‘I’ll text her,’ said Jack.

Chloe led a round of applause as they pulled out onto the road and accelerated up the hill. Despite the trauma of the previous days, their mood was light as they all started singing along to the song that was pulsing from the car’s speakers.

There was no reason for them to pay any attention to the hire van that, fifty metres behind, had started to follow them.

As the car turned into Lucy’s road, Gabriel’s phone rang and a picture of Jude appeared on the screen. He threw the phone to Itch to answer.

‘Hey, Mum, Gabe’s driving. What’s up?’ he said.

‘Had a call from the clinic in Exeter. They’ve had a cancellation today and were wondering if Chloe would like to take it. Could Gabriel take her?’

Itch’s heart sank. ‘Well, we’re on the way to the mining school now . . .’

‘Which is hardly as important as getting your sister’s head sorted. They have a specialist there who wants to see her.’

Gabriel had parked up. ‘I’ll talk to Mum; you go in and get Lucy,’ he said.

Itch handed the phone back, and Jack and Chloe followed him to Lucy’s house. Nicola Cavendish, Lucy’s mother, greeted them. Middle-aged and stocky, she was all smiles as she opened the door.

‘Itch! And Jack and Chloe too! Well, this is a treat.’ She showed them into the kitchen. ‘Chloe, I’m glad to see you looking better . . .’