Witch Hunt (Witch Finder 2) (39 page)

Homecoming. The word had a horribly hollow sound. Yup, this place was home now. I’d better get used to it.

‘Come on.’ Dad gave me a squeeze. ‘Let me show you around.’

As Dad took me round, I tried to find positive things to say. It was pretty hard. Everything was falling apart – even the plugs and light switches were all ancient Bakelite and looked like they’d explode if you touched them.

‘Just look at those beams,’ he exclaimed in the living room. ‘Knocks our old Georgian house into a cocked hat, eh? See those marks?’ He pointed above our heads to scratches cut deeply into the corded black wood. They looked like slashes: deep, almost savage cuts that formed a series of Vs and Ws. ‘Witch marks, according to my book. Set there to protect the house from evil spirits and stuff.’ But I didn’t have time to look properly at the scarred wood, because Dad was hurrying me on to his next exhibit.

‘And how’s that for a fireplace? You could roast an ox in there! That’s an old bread oven, I think.’ He tapped a little wooden door in the inglenook beside the fire, blackened and warped with heat. ‘I’ll have to see about getting it open one of these days. But anyway, enough of me rattling on. What do you think? Isn’t it great?’

When I didn’t respond he put his hand on my shoulder and turned me to look at him, begging me with his eyes to like it, be happy, share his enthusiasm.

‘I like all the fireplaces,’ I said evasively.

‘Well you’ll like them even more when winter comes, unless I can get the central heating in pretty pronto. But is that all you’ve got to say?’

‘It’s a lot of work, Dad. How are we going to afford it?’ Even as I said it, I suddenly realized that I’d never really said those words before. I’d never had to. We hadn’t been rich, but Dad had always earned enough for what we needed.

Dad shrugged. ‘We got the place pretty cheap, considering. And I’ll do most of the work myself, which’ll cut down costs.’

‘Oh God!’ I said involuntarily in a horrified voice. Then I caught Dad’s eye and began to laugh. Dad can barely change a light-bulb, let alone conduct major house renovations. He looked offended for a minute but then began to laugh too.

‘I’ll get someone in to do the gas and electrics, at least, I promise you that.’ He put his arm around me. ‘I have a really good feeling about this place, Anna. I know it’s been a jolt for you, I do, but I honestly think we can make something of our lives here. I can do a bit of writing, grow veg – maybe I could even do B&B if money gets tight. This place just needs a little TLC to make it fantastic.’

A
little
TLC? I thought about the filth and the rats, and all the work we were going to have to do to make this place even liveable, let alone nice. And then I looked at Dad, and I thought of him back in London, sitting up night after night, his face grey with worry as he tried to make the sums add up, tried to find a way out for both of us.

‘I think,’ I said. Then I stopped.

‘Yes?’

‘I think . . .  if anyone can do it, you can, Dad.’ I put my torch down on the mantelpiece and hugged him fiercely. Then I noticed something . . .

Also by Ruth Warburton

Witch Finder

THE WINTER TRILOGY

A Witch in Winter

A Witch in Love

A Witch Alone

To Ian, with all my love

Text Copyright © 2014 Ruth Warburton

First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Hodder Children’s Books

This ebook edition published in 2014

The right of Ruth Warburton to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means with prior permission in writing from the publishers or in the case of reprographic production in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency and may not be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A Catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978 1 444 91449 8

Hodder Children’s Books
a division of Hachette Children’s Books
338 Euston Road, London NW1 3BH
An Hachette UK company

www.hachette.co.uk
www.franklinwatts.co.uk
www.orchardbooks.co.uk
www.hodderchildrens.co.uk
www.waylandbooks.co.uk

www.hachettechildrens.co.uk
www.facebook.com/hodderchildrensbooks
http://twitter.com/hodderchildrens