He looked carefully at his outfit. He had to get the look exactly right. It could make all the difference between success and failure. There was an all night screening of the Twilight films and he could not miss this opportunity.
He was naturally pale but his blond hair was a problem. The old fashioned top hat that he had picked up on the internet should cover it and give the right feel. He had considered a cane but he hoped there would be times in the evening when he wanted both hands free. There were likely to be a lot of young ladies at the screening.
The suit had been another problem. He had found one eventually in a second hand shop. The black suit jacket had velvet lapels and the waistcoat was nicely cut. He had been meticulous to get rid of any faint trace of the iridescent dusting powder. With the slightly flared trousers it said very clearly that this was a man who had not quite got the decade right.
He had wondered about the shirt. He may have wanted to look as if he couldn't keep up with fashion after all this time, but there was no way he was wearing 1970s drip dry polyester with a frill. He had settled for a deep crimson silk shirt. It was brand new, but silk was an old fashioned material and he could always say that he had ripped his favourite brushed nylon shirt in a fight with a werewolf. With well polished shoes and a heavy, plain signet ring he should look the part.
He checked he had his ticket and plenty of cash. He didn't want to break the look with a credit card and if he got lucky with a persuadable lady he didn't want to give too much information about himself, just in case. The taxi outside sounded the horn.
"Going to the screening? You look just like a vampire, mate. It makes a better night if you put a bit of effort in to look the part." The taxi driver sighed. "I used to have a suit like that forty years ago. Of course, I was a lot thinner then. Well, you won't be lonely tonight, I bet you've got a hotel room booked."
He smiled enigmatically and gave the driver a generous tip. Looking at the crowd there were others who had aimed for his intended look but he prided himself that he had hit closest to the mark. He was already getting interested glances and he thought it would not take much to entice the pretty brunette near the popcorn stand to a secluded corner to 'talk'.
Carefully keeping his expression immobile, inside he was laughing wildly. He may be seven hundred and thirty two years old and a vampire but looking at all those pliable, gullible necks made him feel like a child in a sweet shop.
The pub was quiet, even for a Wednesday. Evan leaned back in his seat and looked around. Apart from him, Kyle and Adam, there was an old man in a corner nursing his half-pint of stout and an elderly barman with a sudoku. It wasn’t helping Kyle’s mood.
“She wasn’t worth it,” Adam said. “You were always too good for her, mate.”
Kyle slumped lower. “Yeah,” he muttered.
“You need to forget about her,” Evan said. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea.”
“Yeah,” Kyle mumbled and took a mouthful of his beer.
“Perhaps we should go out next Saturday night,” Adam persisted. “We could go into Leeds. There’s bound to be someone better for you there.”
Kyle set down his pint and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, bound to be someone better,” he said defiantly.
Evan frowned at him. “I thought you were busy on Saturday,” he said.
The defiance slipped out of Kyle. “I was supposed to be going to her brother’s wedding.” He looked down at his half-drunk pint, too dispirited to take another mouthful.
“She dumped you just before her brother’s wedding?” Adam exclaimed. “What was she thinking?”
Evan kicked Adam under the table. “She was thinking that Kyle forgot her birthday, called her mother a stupid bitch and that her dad threatened to beat him to a paste,” he hissed.
Adam blinked for a moment and tried a different tack. “We could go and watch Leeds United,” he said. “They’re playing Sheffield Wednesday in the Cup so it should be a good game.” Kyle didn’t bother to reply.
“Maybe we could go hiking,” Evan said. “You know, up on the moors. A bit of exercise and some fresh air will do you the world of good.”
“We could take some beers,” Adam added.
“We don’t want to take too many,” Evan said. “Not at this time of year. But it won’t harm to have a hike. And if you come back to my place, we could get pizza.” He met Adam’s eyes. “And I’ve got more games since last time.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Adam said. He glanced at Kyle. “What do you think, mate?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Kyle said, forcing a faint smile. “It’s better than sitting around and moping.”
“And maybe we’ll see one of those big cats,” Adam said.
Evan shook his head. It was an old argument. “They’re not real,” he said. “You couldn’t have a tiger in the English countryside. What would they eat?”
“Well, maybe not tigers,” Adam conceded. “But there’s loads on the internet about the Beast of Bodmin. Even coppers have seen it.”
“Yeah, well my nan’s old tom cat was big enough to chase a Doberman and that was just a normal cat,” Evan said. “All the stuff out there is probably just pictures of tom cats taken by drunk people. If there were big cats then they’d have to hunt things like antelope. You don’t get many antelope on the Yorkshire Moors.”
“There’s sheep,” Adam argued. “There must be thousands of them up on the moors and I bet the farmers don’t know each one by name. One or two could go missing and no-one would know.”
“How much would they eat?” Evan asked. “Don’t they have to have, like, a sheep a night?”
“I suppose it depends on the size of the cat,” Adam said. “I mean, a normal cat just wants a mouse or two.”
“My nan’s cat used to have two big tins of food every day and crunchies,” Evan said.
“And big cats don’t mean just lions and tigers,” Adam said. “It could be lynx or ocelot crosses, you know, that escaped from zoos and went wild. I bet they wouldn’t need a sheep a night.”
“I want to know why there aren’t any big dogs out there,” Kyle said suddenly. “A Great Dane or Irish Wolfhound would be bigger than a big cat.”
“Yeah, but they don’t hunt, do they?” Adam said reasonably. “They get fed or scrounge out of rubbish.”
“Next door’s terrier is always catching rats,” Kyle said. “They must be able to hunt something.”
“But I bet he doesn’t eat the rats,” Adam said. “I bet he has a tin of dog food or something. Maybe half a tin because it’s a small dog.”
Evan shook his head. “How do you know that there aren’t any big dogs out there?” he said. “I’m not saying that there are, just that there could be. There was that thing in North Leeds, near Horsforth.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. A big, black dog. It appeared out of nowhere and scared a van driver to pieces.”
“One of my dad’s mates knew him,” Kyle said. “Dad said that the driver was in a right state for ages afterwards. He wouldn’t get into the van for months.”
“I don’t think it was anything special,” Evan said. “It was probably an overgrown Rottweiler, but that’s how the stories start.”
Kyle frowned. “You don’t get big dog stories because there aren’t real big dogs. You have normal cats like your nan’s cat and then you have tigers which are way bigger.” He took a mouthful of beer. “But there aren’t any big dogs, not like tigers. I mean, a wolf isn’t going to be much bigger than a German Shepherd, is it?”
“Wolves are big bastards,” Adam said, digging out his phone. “Let me find a picture.”
“That dog in Horsforth was supposed to be like a ghost,” Evan said. “It’s not supposed to be a real creature.”
Adam changed the search on his phone. “Yeah, they’re supposed to be omens of death,” he said. “No wonder that van driver was in a bad way.”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts either,” Evan said.
Adam ignored him. “It says here that they guard graveyards and are omens of death,” he said, scrolling rapidly. “There’s all sorts of names, but they say that in Leeds they’re called Padfoot.”
“We won’t see any up on the moors,” Evan said. “There are no graveyards up there. It’s just grass, heather and sheep.”
“And us with some beers,” Adam added.
“But not too many,” Evan said.
“Yeah, it’ll be good to get out,” Kyle said quietly.
***
Evan knocked on Kyle’s front door. “Come on, mate. We’re waiting.”
Kyle pushed the sash of his window up and stuck his head out. “What?”
“We’re going to the moors, remember?” Evan shouted up. “Adam’s in the car and he’s got the beers.”
Kyle scowled, then groaned. “I’ll be down in two minutes.”
“I’ll be in the car,” Evan said, knowing that the two minutes would be nearer fifteen and the wind was whipping down the narrow side street and he’d left his coat in the car. “We’re leaving in ten minutes whether you’re there or not.”
It was warmer back in the car. “I told him that we’d leave in ten minutes,” Evan said.
Adam chuckled. “He knows you mean twenty minutes at least,” he said. “I hope he’s alright.”
“I thought she was like that about him,” Adam said. “I never thought that she’d dump him.”
“He swore at her mother, embarrassed her at her work, forgot her birthday and got so drunk on his birthday that the taxi driver had to help her carry him indoors – again.” Evan said. “Still, a hike on the moors won’t hurt and he’ll find someone else.”
Adam looked thoughtfully down the street at Kyle’s house. “Yeah,” he muttered without much conviction. “I’ve got my good camera with me,” he said in a sudden change of subject. “Just in case we see any of those big cats.”
Evan shook his head. “You’re more likely to get pictures of sheep,” he grumbled. He watched Kyle stumble out of his house. “But it won’t hurt Kyle if he’s busy looking for them.”
***
November pressed hard on the moors. The sky was a uniform gray, and the wind whistled as it sliced across the rolling landscape. Evan took a deep breath of the clean air as he shrugged into his coat. “I’ve got the sandwiches and the compass,” he said.
“I’ve got the beers,” Adam said with a grin. “And don’t forget my camera.”
Kyle held up a bag from their brief stop on the way. “I’ve got some water and snacks,” he said. “Which way?”
Evan checked his phone. “According to Google Maps, we could head towards Lippersley Pike over that way.” He waved generally over to the west. “Or there’s the Tree of Life Stone over that way, towards Stainburn.” He nodded over to the east.
“What do you want to do?” Adam asked, looking at Kyle.
Kyle shrugged. “It looks like a better walk over that way,” he said pointing west.
“Lippersley Pike it is,” Evan said and set off down the track.
***
The track was hard, beaten earth with the short grass slick with the damp. The tufts of grass and brown heather that spread around them was lifeless, but the quiet was welcome. It wasn’t cheerful, but it was peaceful, with only the sound of their breathing, distant sheep and the ever present wind as they hiked. As always, Evan wondered why he didn’t come out here more often. There was a freedom in the wide horizon and a tang in the air. He felt his worries sliding away as he strode out. They made good time, pressing on through the dank air and up a rise.
“Hang on,” Adam called. “Wait for us.”
Evan looked back. “Sorry,” he called. He looked around at the stones scattered on the ridge. “Do you want to stop here?”
Adam puffed up next to him, followed closely by Kyle. “Yeah, that would be a good idea,” he grumbled. “How come you’re so fit, office boy?”
Evan grinned as he sank onto the stones. “I may spend my days in an office chair, but I go to the gym,” he said. “And that’s more than you two bother with.”
“I’m knackered after my shift,” Kyle said.
“You’re stocking shelves in a supermarket,” Adam said. “How hard can it be?” He sat next to Evan and opened his rucksack. “Beer?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Kyle said, sinking onto the stone next to him. “You’re not much better. I thought mechanics were all about the fitness.”
“Like I have time,” Adam scoffed. “You said there were sandwiches.”
Evan pulled the sandwiches out of his own rucksack. “You could make time,” he said as he handed the sandwiches around. “But you’re too busy gaming.” He took a beer from Adam and cracked it open. “It’s all about priorities.”
“I’m going to prove the big cats are out here,” Adam said. “There must have been sightings here.”
“Why?” Kyle asked thickly around a mouthful of sandwich. “Why must there have been sightings?”
“Because it’s prime big cat country,” Adam said. “There are sheep, no people and no cameras. There’s got to be loads of them.”
“Not if there aren’t any big cats,” Kyle said. “It’s not like America. We have normal cats and those tiny wild cats in the UK and that’s it.” He took another mouthful of sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “There could be wildcats.”
“They’re smaller than my nana’s cat,” Evan said. He put down his unopened beer and picked up a bottle of water. The walk had made him thirsty and he was driving them home. He took a long drink of water and tuned out the bickering next to him.
There was something haunting about the moors. No wonder people told ghost stories about it. The bleak landscape seemed pitiless in the gray weather with no hint of warmth or shelter. It felt old in a way that the old houses and streets couldn’t match, with a weight of time that settled around his shoulders and allowed unease to trickle down his back. He shivered and it was nothing to do with the temperature. As he ate his sandwich, his mind wandered away, wondering how a place that was merely nature had such an ancient feeling to it. As the wind dropped and the air grew hazy, it felt like a place of myths and legends and not entirely safe to have a few beers and a sandwich.
***
“Is that mist?”
Kyle’s question broke into Evan’s thoughts. He looked down towards Ilkley and groaned. Soft, white tendrils were already creeping towards them up the slope of the ridge. How had he missed them? “Did anyone see the weather forecast?”
“Didn’t you?” Adam asked. “And that looks like mist.”
“We’d better get moving,” Evan said. He pushed himself stiffly to his feet. “Besides, it’s getting dark.”
“How can it be getting dark already?” Adam grumbled.
“Because it’s November, it’s nearly winter and it gets dark early at this time of year,” Evan said, stuffing the sandwich wrappings and empty water bottles into his rucksack.
“Did anyone see the weather forecast?” Kyle repeated. “Because it looks like it’s going to be bad.”
“We’ll know better next time,” Evan said, checking his compass. “Come on.”
“Hang on, I’m going to see if I can check on my phone,” Adam said, stumbling after him, his rucksack full of empty beer cans.
“You won’t get a signal up here,” Evan said, setting a brisk pace.
“You never know,” Adam said. “There are masts all over the moor nowadays.” He swore. “I can’t get nothing. Kyle, have you got anything?” He turned around. “Kyle?”
Kyle was silhouetted against the dim gray sky, fumbling with his phone. “Hang on, hang on…”
“Come on, mate,” Evan yelled. “I don’t want to be driving in this.”
“Bloody hell!” Kyle screamed, stumbling backwards and falling, rolling down the slope towards them and landing in a heap.
Adam and Evan ran back. “What the hell happened, man?” Adam asked as he hauled Kyle to his feet.
“Are you okay?” Evan ran his eyes over his friend. “Anything broken?”
Kyle stared at them, his face pale and drawn. “It was a big dog.” A shiver wracked his body. “A fucking great black dog.”
Adam scrabbled for his camera. “I’ve got to get a picture of this,” he said.
Evan grabbed his arm. “Not if you want a lift back to town,” he said. “We need to get Kyle home.”
Adam hesitated for a second, then put an arm around Kyle. “Come on, mate. Let’s get back to the car.”
***
Evan walked ahead, his compass in hand as they followed the track back to the road. The mist had come down hard and, as the light faded, he slowed to a careful, slow pace. Adam was using his phone as a torch, but it was pitifully inadequate. The biggest worry, however, was Kyle.
“Can you hear that?” Kyle said.
“Hear what?” Adam said as he guided his trembling friend behind Evan.
“You know, that?” Kyle said, his head swiveling to the sides of the track. “It’s like it’s walking next to us.”
Adam hesitated. “You can hear the dog?” he asked.
“Don’t even think about it,” Evan ordered. “If you get off the path now, you’ll be stranded until morning. Keep moving.”
“You don’t want to look at it, mate,” Kyle muttered. “It’s huge, like a beast, but a dog, and it’s eyes…”
“It’s just a stray,” Evan said. “A dog that got lost from its owner. Keep moving. We can’t be far from the car now.”
“No, it’s not like that.” Kyle hunched over, shivering. “It was huge, but like a dog, with hair all over like a goat or something, and it was weird.”
“So it was a goat,” Evan said, fighting back his worry. “They could live on the moors no problem.”
“And they could be the food of the big cats,” Adam added. His heart wasn’t in it, though, and he kept looking back.
“You do not need a picture of a bloody goat,” Evan said. “Keep moving, Kyle. We’ll get you home and a nice cup of tea and an early night will see you alright.”
“Its eyes were…” Kyle searched for words. “They were too big and bright, and they seemed to look at me, like they saw my soul. Like they could see inside my head.” Another violent shudder rattled through him. “It was like a ghost, but solid.”
Evan squinted through the mist. “You’re letting the weather get to you,” he said. “We’re nearly there. I think I can see the road.”
“I could hang back and see if I could get just one picture,” Adam said.
“I’m not hanging around in this weather,” Evan said. “And Kyle needs to get into the warm. He must have got shaken up when he fell.”
“You don’t get it,” Kyle said. “You don’t want to see it. I wish I’d never seen it. It’s like a hell dog, like a horror story.”
The mist was getting thicker but, to Evan’s huge relief, he could see the road a few yards ahead. Kyle’s words were digging into his imagination and he almost believed that he, too, could hear the padding of great paws to his left, just out of sight. “You’ll have your own story to tell your dad,” Evan said. “Maybe you could sell it to the papers. There’s bound to be some place that would print it.”
“If only I’d got a picture,” Adam grumbled as they reached the road.
“It’s there!” Kyle yelled suddenly. “Can you see it?”
For a moment, Evan thought he saw a trace of a dark shape in the shadows, then it was nothing but the mist and the feeble light from Adam’s phone. “Just get in the car.”
Adam settled Kyle on the back seat as Evan warmed up his battered Ford’s engine. “Do you want a bottle of water?” Adam asked as he settled the bags next to Kyle.
Kyle shook his head. “Let’s just get out of here,” he murmured.
Evan turned around and got a clear look at Kyle in the light in the car. He was dirty and smeared from his fall, though he seemed unhurt. His face, however, was pale and drawn and his eyes were wide. He didn’t seem able to stop shivering. “I’ll crank the heating up,” he said as Adam climbed into the passenger seat. “We’ll be back in Leeds before you know it.”
***
The drive back was tortuous and stressful. The road was narrow and twisted through the moors and then down through farmland and Evan found himself slowing down further and further as the settling mist hid all but the nearest few yards. It was a little better when they reached Otley and got the benefit of the streetlights, though it was still slow going. It was only when they reached the edge of Leeds that the mist started to thin and Evan could relax a little as he drove.
“How are you feeling, Kyle?” he asked, glancing in the rear view mirror. “Do you want us to drop you off at a doctor or something? We could come in with you.”
“I’m okay,” Kyle said. “But I’m not kidding. It wasn’t just some stray. It was like a ghost you could touch, like a demon.” He hunched down in the back seat. “Just take me home.”
They dropped Kyle off at his house, then Adam looked at Evan. “Do you think it was some sort of big cat?”
“It was probably just a big sheep, or a stray, or even a goat,” Evan said. “And it startled Kyle, he fell, and the shock of it all made into something weird. You know, made him think that he’d seen something that he hadn’t.”
“That makes sense,” Adam said with a grimace. “I suppose it could have been a big cat, but a cat would have pounced. I wish I could have stayed to get a picture.” He looked thoughtful and turned to Evan.
“No, I am not taking you back to the moor,” Evan said, easily guessing Adam’s intention. “It’s a bitch of a night and I want to be around in case Kyle calls. He wasn’t looking well.”
“Maybe next weekend,” Adam said.
“Yeah, maybe,” Evan said. “And this time we’ll check the weather forecast.
***
Evan called in to see Kyle on Monday evening on the way back from work, knocking sharply on the door and looking up at the darkened windows. He’d been feeling uneasy all through Sunday and while Adam had visited, his report hadn’t helped. That sense of unease grew as Evan waited at Kyle’s door. He knocked again. Straining his ears above the background noise of cars and people, he could hear a slow shuffle towards the door.
“Who is it?” Kyle’s voice sounded strained through the door.
“It’s me.” Evan stared at the shabby door. “Are you okay? I brought some dinner.”
“Evan?” Kyle opened the door cautiously as he checked before stepping aside. “Come in. You brought food?”
“Best Chinese takeout in Leeds,” Evan said, holding up the bag. “Enough for both of us. Get the plates out.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Kyle mumbled and then swayed, slumping against the passage wall. “I’m not feeling well at all.”
Evan dropped the food and grabbed his friend. Kyle was pale and sweating, trembling and twitching and barely holding himself up. “What the hell? We need to get you to hospital.
Kyle shook his head and pulled his dressing gown around him. “It’s no good, Evan,” he said. “It’s Padfoot. That’s what I saw on the moors.” A violent shudder ran through him. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Fuck that!” Evan said, guiding his friend into the sitting room. “Sit there. I’m calling an ambulance.”
“I can hear him,” Kyle said. “I can hear him walking outside the window. I can hear him panting.”
“There’s no such thing,” Evan said desperately as he dragged out his phone. “You hit your head when you feel. They’ll be able to sort it out in hospital. Just hang on.”
“You don’t understand,” Kyle whispered. “It’s like all the stories. It’s as big as a pony, with shaggy hair and eyes like saucers. I never thought about how big a saucer was, but they’re the size of Padfoot’s eyes. They’re huge, Evan, and they shine, like a moon, but not a normal moon.” Kyle coughed, helplessly convulsing as he hunched on his couch. “It’s like a scary, spooky moon from a video or a horror movie. It’s not natural.”
Evan ignored him but concentrated on the emergency operator. “He’s pale, trembling, coughing, and I think he’s hallucinating,” he told them. “He hit his head on Saturday and he’s been poorly since.” He listened, his phone wedged between shoulder and chin as he grabbed some basics.
Kyle rocked slowly back and forth. “I know it’s coming for me,” he mumbled. “I know it. I haven’t got much time.” He looked up at Evan. “What am I going to do?”
Evan leaned into Kyle’s kitchenette. “I don’t think he’s eaten,” he told the operator. “He was ready to collapse when I found him.”
“I’ve said my prayers,” Kyle whispered. His head whipped around. “He’s outside. I can hear him.”
Evan rushed over to the window. There was no sign of life outside on the damp street. It was already dark and not even a cat disturbed the gloom. “There’s nothing there,” he told Kyle before returning his attention to the operator. “I think he’s hearing things… I suppose that’s auditory hallucinations… I’m not sure about bringing him in as I think he might pass out while I’m driving.”
“You need to call my dad,” Kyle said. “You need to tell him everything. You know his number.”
“Don’t worry,” Evan said. “I’ll let him know once we’ve got you settled. The ambulance is on its way and we’ll soon get you sorted out.”
“I’m really cold,” Kyle murmured, his eyes dropping shut.
***
“They’ve taken him to St James Hospital?” Adam asked. He was perched uncomfortably on his bed. Privacy in his shared house was hard to come by so they’d retreated to his room.
Evan nodded. “I’ve been in touch with his family, but you know what they’re like.”
Adam nodded. “They’ll turn up to every wedding and funeral for a drink and a fight, but they’ll never visit a hospital. I’ll be able to call in tomorrow lunchtime.” He shivered. “I’ve been looking online.”
Evan tried to get comfortable on the ancient office chair. “You can’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
Adam shook his head. “It’s all documented,” he said.
“It’s all documented according to the internet,” Evan replied. “What’s documented?”
“The rest of the country, they’re called barghests and they guard graveyards.” Adam opened his phone and scrolled quickly around. “But in Leeds they call them Padfoot, and they’re an omen of death.”
“Kyle saw something, then he had a fall and it got messed up in his mind.” Evan looked over Adam’s shoulder. “See, they’re talking about that driver who saw the dog near Horsforth. Horsforth is miles from the moors.” Evan leaned back and the chair creaked ominously. “And there aren’t any graveyards on the moors. It’s just sheep.”
Adam shook his head, his face set. “They’re not modern graveyards,” he said. “But look at this.” He passed his phone over.
Evan scrolled through the article. “That’s just a coincidence,” he said.
“We sat and drank our beers on an ancient cairn,” Adam said. “All the landmarks are there. We were messing around on a Bronze Age grave.”
“It’s not like we meant to,” Evan said. “And it’s coincidence. Kyle had that fall. You can’t argue with it. That’s what’s making him ill.”
There was a tense pause. “What do the doctors think?” Adam asked.
Evan shrugged. “They’re doing tests. At least they allowed him to make some decisions. He was pretty out of it in the ambulance, but he let them put me in as a contact and decision maker. They’ll tell me what they find.” He shivered as a draft slid through the room. I’m worried that it’s some weird sheep disease that he caught when he got scraped up in that fall.”
“I’m worried that it’s a demon,” Adam said.
***
Evan got the call as he was leaving for his lunch break. He ducked into an empty meeting room and took the call. “Hi, Adam, is everything okay?”
“I just called in to see him,” Adam said. “I’m on an early break and it’s not far from work.”
Evan struggled to hear him over the traffic. “Where are you? There’s a lot of background noise.”
“You know I can’t stand hospitals, and it’s bedlam on the street.” There was some rustling and the sound of jogging feet. “Hang on.”
Evan waited patiently as the background noise subsided a little. “So you saw Kyle. How was he?”
“Just a sec,” Adam said. “I’m in the old graveyard opposite the hospital. There are some benches here.” There were more rustles as the noise of the traffic ebbed away. “That’s better. Yeah, I saw Kyle.”
“Was he still talking about the Padfoot?” Evan asked.
“He wasn’t talking about anything,” Adam said soberly. “He was out of it. The doctors said it was a coma. They couldn’t give me too many details, but it looks like he’s just shutting down and they don’t know why.”
“I’ll call them this afternoon,” Evan said. “I don’t understand. He was fine on Saturday, right up to when he fell. Even then it was just a few bumps and scrapes. How could he get so sick so fast?”
“I swear it’s Padfoot,” Adam said. “Check it out. I’m not talking about the usual weird stuff on Facebook. If you look at the old newspapers and books online, there’s loads.”
“I am sick of this bullshit,” Evan said, trying to keep his voice low as the receptionist walked past the door. “We don’t even know if there was an actual animal. Kyle was the only one who saw it. He yelled and fell down. It could be something like a weird brain thing.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Adam said, his voice eerily calm.
Evan felt a chill at his tone. “What do you mean?”
“I’m in a graveyard, right?” Adam said. “And Padfoot goes around graveyards. And I just saw…”
“Don’t say it,” Evan whispered.
“It’s huge, like a donkey, but it’s a dog.” Adam swallowed audibly. “And its eyes are not normal. They’re too big and shiny.” There was a pause. “It’s looking at me.”
The lack of emotion in Adam’s voice chilled Evan to the bone. “You’re in the middle of fucking Leeds,” he said. “You can’t see a big dog. That graveyard’s surrounded by traffic. It never bloody stops.”
“It’s gone behind the gravestones,” Adam said. “There are some weird tombs here so maybe it’s gone into one of them.”
“Is there anyone else around?” Evan asked. “Anyone who could have seen it?”
“It’s a cold November lunchtime and it’s about to start raining,” Adam had an edge to his voice. “I’m the only one stupid enough to be sitting here.”
“It may be an optical illusion,” Evan said finally. “It may be just a big dog, and the light is never the best at this time of year. Come round to my place this evening and have a few drinks. Perhaps we’ll have some good news about Kyle.”
“I can hear it padding,” Adam said. “It sounds like great paws passing behind me.”
“You’re surrounded by traffic and the graveyard’s probably full of rats,” Evan tried to stay pragmatic. “Get out of there, keep busy at work and I’ll see you tonight.” He forced himself to take a breath. “I’d better tell Vicky. I know that she dumped him, but they dated for years and she’ll want to know.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Adam said quietly. “I’ll see you tonight.
***
Evan answered the door and ushered Adam in. “You got the news?”
Adam nodded. “I can’t believe that Kyle’s dead.” He held up a large bottle of vodka. “This time last week he was fine and now…”
“Take a seat,” Evan ushered Adam into the tiny living room. “I called Vicky. She’s a bit of a mess.”
“I suppose she is.” Adam took his seat on the sofa and tipped his head back. “He’s doing fine, she dumps him, now he’s dead. It could affect a girl.”
“It could affect anyone.” Evan poured a generous measure of vodka into the waiting glasses and added a splash of cola. “His family are going crazy.”
“They always do,” Adam said. He shivered and hunched down. “Is it cold in here?”
“I suppose so,” Evan said, flicking on the electric fire. “I hadn’t noticed, but it is November.”
Adam forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s the wrong time of year for a heatwave.” He took a long drink. “Perhaps this will warm me up.”
“You’ll get cold sitting around in graveyards,” Evan said. He took a sip of his own drink. “His family can’t agree on who’s supposed to organize a funeral and who’s supposed to pay for that funeral, and who’s supposed to get the drink in for the wake.”
“You should warn the cops,” Adam said. “They had four arrested at the last family funeral.”
“Wasn’t that his cousin’s wedding?” Evan asked.
Adam shrugged. “It’s hard to keep up.” He took a deep breath. “I swear I saw it, Evan, I swear!”
“You can’t let it prey on your mind,” Evan said. “Don’t let it get inside your head. You could go crazy.”
“Like Kyle went crazy?” Adam asked. “He saw Padfoot.” He shuddered. “It’s a good name for it. All I can hear outside is the padding of feet. Just step after step of paws hitting the ground right behind me.”
“Maybe you should see someone,” Evan said slowly. “Whatever it is – and I’m not saying that it’s a dog, or a Padfoot or anything – but whatever it is, perhaps a doctor could do something before it gets out of hand.”
“Like it got out of hand for Kyle,” Adam said. He drained his glass and poured another large measure.
Evan didn’t know how to break the heavy silence that followed. He sipped at his drink and watched Adam getting paler and more haunted. “Vicky wants to organize a memorial,” he said eventually. “She knows what his family’s like and that the funeral probably won’t be for months, but she thinks a prayer service might be nice. I said that I’d go.”
“That’s good of her,” Adam said. “With all things considered. When is it?”
“She said that the minister had a gap on Thursday night at the church near her.” Evan stared down at his drink and wished it had answers. “I’ll give you a call and let you know the time.”
“I wish I’d got a picture,” Adam said. He tossed back the last of his drink. “You know, on the moor. I wish I’d got a picture then. I didn’t think in the graveyard, but if I’d got a picture on the moor then at least we could show what killed Kyle.”
“Nobody knows what killed Kyle.” Evan forced his voice to stay even. “The doctors have no idea. They’re having an autopsy.”
Adam stood and a shudder ran through him. “I’m too tired for this shit,” he said, waving away his bottle of vodka. “Save that for later. I’m going to get an early night.” He laid a brief hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Give me a call about the service when you know something.”
Evan waited until the door shut and then drained his own glass. What the hell was going on?
***
Evan didn’t know if he was doing the right thing but driving over to Adam’s work was better than moping around at home. His boss had taken one look at Evan and ordered him to get out, so now he was at a loose end with nothing to do but avoid internet searches for Padfoot. The drive was a nightmare, with an ambulance and fire truck racing past and police all over the road. As he crawled another three yards, he could feel a chill running through him and he clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. This slow traffic was giving him too much time to think. He could see Adam’s garage from where he was stuck in traffic, but it could take him an hour to reach it. On an impulse, he turned into the nearby side street, parked and started walking.
Evan’s pace slowed as he neared the garage. It was normally busy, but today it was swarming with people and the fire truck and ambulance were on the forecourt. He swallowed and fought his instinct to flee with everything in him. It could be anything. The garage dealt with all sorts of crashes and rebuilds as well as the usual oil changes and tune ups, and ambulances could be called as a precaution. It took true willpower for him to keep putting one foot in front of the other, to take another step and then another. Evan fought the cold feeling in his chest and the icy certainty sitting on the back of his neck. Maybe Adam had been hurt after rolling into work with a hangover, but it wouldn’t be serious. Adam was bloody good at his job and wouldn’t take risks.
He was at the entrance to the forecourt now. Police were directing traffic around the site as another fire truck pulled in, sirens blaring. Mechanics were standing outside the office, quiet and oddly still. Evan strained his eyes, searching among the people as he crossed the wide forecourt, but he couldn’t see Adam anywhere. As he got closer to the mechanics, Adam’s manager noticed him and the last of the color drained from his face. Evan didn’t want to know, but he had to ask.
“Is Adam okay?”
The manager put a trembling hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Nobody knows what happened.” The manager looked back at the rest of the stunned workers. “We had that piece of machinery serviced last week. There was no hint that there was anything wrong. Everyone’s used it over the last few days…”
“Adam got hurt?” Evan asked.
The manager briefly closed his eyes and took a breath. “A car lift holding a SUV collapsed on top of him. We called it in straight away, and the fire crew are trying to get him free…”
Evan looked over at the ambulance crew at the entrance to the workshop. They stood looking sadly resigned without any urgency. The second fire crew weren’t rushing in. “Adam’s gone, isn’t he?”
The manager grimaced. “I wish I could say differently, but I don’t think he could have survived. I’m sorry.”
Evan clasped the manager’s hand. “Thank you.” He looked at the swarm of first responders and the shaken crew. “I’ll get out of your way. Thank you for telling me.”
***
Evan was early for Kyle’s memorial. He sat near the back at the far end of a pew, hiding in the shadows and trying to make sense of it all. Kyle had something happen to his system when he fell down the ridge. There were YouTube channels full of weird biology and it must have been something like that. Adam worked with heavy machinery all the time and accidents happened. If he’d been hungover then he may have missed a safety check. There was always a rational explanation.
This was one of the old churches. Evan hadn’t bothered with church since the mandatory school visits, and while it had a sort of comfort, it was unfamiliar. The notice board was full of church socials and lists for church suppers. The minister seemed more concerned with the church council than Kyle’s friends who were awkwardly filling up the pews. The books handed to him and the service sheet felt awkward and clumsy. It felt far more alien than the moors.
Vicky had sensibly kept the invitations to Kyle’s friends and those of his family without a police record, and the service was comforting. A few stood at the front to share good memories of Kyle, but Evan didn’t feel able to join them. If he hadn’t suggested a hike… if he hadn’t driven them to the moors… He wondered if Adam would have been able to stand up and share memories of their friendship. He shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden pew. As Vicky rose to speak, guilt pressed down hard. Evan found his breath catching in his throat and a pressure on his chest and he had to get out of that dim, emotion-filled space. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of the pew and through the huge door to the fresh air outside. He staggered to one side and fought for air, collapsing on a bench at the corner of the building.
It seemed like an eternity before Evan gained back control and felt his breathing return to something close to normal. He sat back and looked around, his hand resting on the arm of the bench which was damp and rough grained to his touch. The damp air of a late November evening hung still, filled with the scent of newly fallen leaves, and a faint haze was rising, dimming the nearby streetlights into a faint glow. It would be misty again before morning. For a moment, Evan felt utterly still. There was no movement around him and the faint hiss of distant cars and the subdued singing in the church behind him seemed only to buttress the silence around him in the damp, motionless air. The motionless air in the graveyard. The place that Adam said Padfoot roamed. The place that Evan wanted to avoid at all costs.
Enough light filtered past the heavy yews to show Evan the headstones, ancient, tilted and slick with damp. Behind them was a shape, a creature that should be too big to hide in a graveyard. A huge, shaggy, black dog, with overbright eyes and sharp, gleaming teeth in its gaping mouth. And as it approached, all Evan could hear was the pad…pad…pad… of its great feet.
It took me a long time to learn how to see fairies. I don’t mean the sort that you see in children’s books, but the fair folk, the shining ones, the quiet presence in a country lane. I trained myself to see a shimmer in the corner of a garden, a hint of rainbow as I walked down a dark country lane. I watched for an unexpected glimmer. I listened for a hint of tune that shouldn’t be playing. I waited for the scent of honeysuckle on the winter air.
An old man waited at the gate, grabbing my arm and pulling me to one side where my mum couldn’t see. “They’re hunting you. You need to stay safe. Carry salt or iron – or both! Or you’ll be trapped.”
I laughed and pulled away. How could they be hunting me when it was me that was searching them out, looking for the rainbows in dim places, listening for strange song. The glimpses were getting longer and I knew I was getting closer. I skipped school and found strange corners on the industrial estates where bindweed wound its way through the fences and flies hung in the shade of scented elder bushes.
I read everything in the library and on the internet. I joined groups and forums. They didn’t help. But I started noticing, through the long summer holiday, that I saw more of the glimpses near elder bushes and trees. I searched them out. I found clusters of them near abandoned warehouses and around the edges of neglected parks. I saw glimpses of the fair folk now, just a brief look at a face, glorious with beauty, lit from within by their wild, magical nature.
As the year turned, I ignored school and gloried in the change of the weather, watching the wind swirl the dead leaves around elder bushes drooping under heavy, purple berries. I saw more of them. They wore green and brown and the ladies had wreaths of autumn leaves in their hair. I stayed as still as a cat, watching. As the nights grew longer and the arguments with my mum got worse, I got closer. I could hear their singing and their soft conversations. Finally, I saw them enter the fairy realm. I saw them slip between two elder stems and I followed through.
The sky was alive with colours and shapes. The trees whispered in shock as I walked into the forest and called ahead that a mortal child was here. I could see the Lords and Ladies, the fair ones, riding towards me on fine white horses, their harness jingling and the sun glinting on their shining hair.
***
The doctor put down the latest report and shook his head. “I’m sorry Mrs Taylor. All tests for drugs have come back negative, but your daughter continues in a persistent, catatonic, hallucinating state. We’ve tried everything to reach her, but I’m afraid that there’s nothing more we can do. She’s lost to us.”
She was finally dead. My bitch of a grandmother had finally shuffled off the mortal coil. Everyone knew she was a witch, and she held it over the heads of her family like a dagger. She always acted like she knew everything as well. What was worse, she wouldn’t tell me how to do it.
“You have no warm blood in your heart,” she’d tell me. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You’ll never make a witch.” I hated her more every time she told me this.
And she was so precious about her things. A very select few were allowed to look at her notebooks – not me of course – but none of her grandchildren were allowed into her pantry or among her jars and boxes. At least, Annette and Daisy managed to have glimpses, once they were older, but I had always been shut out.
I hadn’t expected her to have a proper funeral, and I hadn’t expected so many to turn out. There must have been over a hundred in the hall afterwards, most of them bringing their sad pyrex casserole dishes filled with something vegan. I don’t see why my mother couldn’t get it catered, but she always was a cheap cow.
I wasn’t going to stick around and simper over someone I was glad to see gone. Annette and Daisy were red eyed and sniffling, but I didn’t care. I was going to do something I had always wanted to do, and no-one was going to stop me now.
I left as soon as they started passing round the instant coffee and headed straight to my grandmother’s house. It hadn’t been touched, of course, and my cousins had been too respectful to do anything before the funeral. They had been left all the magical stuff, of course. I just had the money. It stung that grandmother had done that because she thought it was all I cared about. If she hadn’t been cremated I would have danced on her grave.
I had been in and out of the old house all my life and I knew its ways. I slipped around the back of the house, got the spare key from under the plant pot and let myself in. All of my life I had been fascinated by a jar on the high shelf. Once, when I was around thirteen, I thought I had heard it calling to me and tried to reach it. The old bag had stopped me then, but she couldn’t stop me now.
I stood on a chair, took the jar down, set it on the scrubbed table and paused. I could hear Daisy and Annette shouting to me as feet pounded up the path to the house. They weren’t going to stop me now. The lid was stiff at first, but then it turned easily. I could hear the singing as the lid loosened and then finally, it was open.
I could hear Daisy calling down the hall, screaming at me to stay back, but I didn’t care. Now I could see inside the tiny perfect world, marvel at the minute and delicate fronds. Except now they were not so tiny. The fronds whirled, whipping around like vegetable tentacles, sprouting and stretching, growing faster than I could watch. The jar shattered as I fell back, too small to contain the writhing plants which were sprawling over the kitchen, feeling their way along to the surfaces and grabbing at me. The fronds were strong, far stronger than a plant should be and I couldn’t break free. They tightened around my throat and as I gasped for air, a cold green tendril slid down my throat. I could hear Daisy screaming as everything went black.
“Just keep the circle together.” Rhys frowned as he concentrated. “Auntie Vivienne, are you there?”
I watched from the corner. Did they have any idea how tough it was for a spirit to communicate? A lot of my ideas about ghosts had undergone a change since I died, and I was ready to admit defeat. But my nieces and nephew had always been dear to me.
“I don’t know what you are expecting.” Jan said. “She left a fortune to us as it was. It seems a little greedy to go looking for more.”
I had always had a soft spot for Jan. She was always so determined to do the right thing. I never understood why she tolerated an old reprobate like me, but she had always been very sweet, especially when I was dying.”
“I just get a feeling that she wanted us to have something else.” Izzy said. “And we’ve all had those phone calls asking about Auntie Viv’s legacy.”
Izzy always had her wits about her. She would make sure no-one took advantage of Jan, and she wouldn’t let Jan’s scruples get in the way, either.
“Will you all shut up!” Rhys snapped.
And Rhys, youngest and brightest. He always had a very clear view of his end goal and ignored distractions. His engineering firm could do with an injection of cash. I focused and pushed.
Rhys visibly jumped. “What was that?”
“It came from the cupboard.” Jan said. “It could be a mouse.”
“We have to look.” Izzy nervously pulled her hands away from her brother and sister and went to the built-in cupboard in the corner. She swallowed and then opened the door. “The back of the cupboard has fallen off.” She opened the door wider. “Hang on, there’s something… Pass me my phone.”
Jan passed Izzy the phone, the torch already switched on, and peered over her shoulder. “Rhys, you need to see this. It’s a false back.”
Rhys squeezed past his sisters. “Auntie Viv kept this a hiding place – for these?” He picked up the rolls of film. “I don’t even know where we could get them developed.” He said.
Somewhere discreet, I hoped. There was the roll with the pictures of the upright, no-nonsense cabinet minister, who revelled in her role as a respectable wife and mother, being outrageously chastised by a lady. Then there were the pictures of the accounts of a church leader who ought to have known better than to siphon off so much from the building fund. And there were some very sweet pictures of them when they were kids, and Auntie Viv could always be relied on for sweeties and fun fairs, mixed in with the senior judge with his shady mistress. Good memories, blackmail material and insurance. It was up to them now. I could rest.
“I don’t like Ed, that new boyfriend of yours,” my fellow lodger said.
I looked at Steph warily. “We’ve only been on a few dates,” I said. “We’re not serious.”
“He gives me the creeps,” Steph said. “He only turns up after dark.”
“It’s December,” I said. “The sun sets around 4pm. By the time I get out of work, it’s dark so of course we don’t have dates in daylight.”
“He never suggests you go out in the day at weekends,” Steph said.
“We’ve only had a few dates,” I said. “There hasn’t really been a chance for us to meet at a weekend.” I didn’t want to admit my own feeling of unease was growing.
“And two nights ago your nightmares woke me up even though I’m sleeping like the dead in the other side of the house,” Steph said. “Seriously, he’s creepy.” She looked at me closely. “Has he talked about moving in together?”
“It’s too soon for that,” I said. “Because, like I said, it’s just been a few dates.”
“But he has mentioned it,” Steph said. “I can see it in your face. And have you noticed the extra rats around.”
“What’s that got to do with it?” I asked.
Steph shuddered. “I just think that he’s creepy,” she said.
I looked at her thoughtfully. “I don’t think that he’s a serial killer,” I said.
Steph sniffed. “Everyone says that. The bodies will be being dragged out of the basement and a reporter will be interviewing a sweet old lady who will swear that the serial killer was always lovely and polite and she can’t believe it.”
“He’s picking me up tonight,” I said. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure. I’ll see how it goes.”
“Don’t let him guess what you’re thinking,” Steph almost shrieked. “You’ll never make it home.” She checked her watch. “What time is he getting here?”
“He’s coming around 9pm,” I said. “We’re going to a club.”
“You’re going to the club in the dark,” Steph said. “He drinks coffee, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” I said. “Why?”
“I’ll be back in about an hour,” Steph said. “Don’t leave the house until I’ve spoken to you.” She grabbed her coat and bag and raced out of the door.
Steph was back before Ed called. “Look at this,” she said, holding up a glass bottle.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Let me show you,” she said and dived into the tiny kitchen. She returned with two glasses and poured a smidgeon into each glass. She took a drink of one. “Go on, try it.”
I looked at her through narrowed eyes and then drank it down. “It’s just water,” I said.
“But I want to add it to Ed’s coffee,” she said.
“What’s the catch?” I asked.
“Well it didn’t hurt me or you, did it?” Steph said. “So how can their be a catch?”
“Do you think he’s allergic to something?” I asked. “Is it infused with peanuts or something?”
“You would have tasted it if it was,” Steph said smugly. “That’s the door!”
I answered the door and brought Ed through to the living room. “Can we have a quick coffee before we go out?” I asked. “I’m parched and you know how expensive the clubs are.”
“Sure,” Ed said, dropping gracefully on the sofa and spreading his arms along the back. He smiled up at me, his teeth gleaming white and his dark eyes burning into mine. I could feel myself drowning in his gaze, losing all sense of time or place. I jumped like a startled cat when Steph came back with coffee.
“Here’s yours,” she said, handing me my usual coffee with milk and sugar. “And here’s yours, Ed, in a nice cup.” She handed the black coffee over to him.
“I’m glad that I’m appreciated,” he said smoothly. “Perhaps you could come out with us as well, Steph? I’m sure we can all have a good time.”
I took a quick mouthful of coffee to cover my expression. There was no way I was going on any date with him after tonight. “Mmm, nice coffee,” I said to cover my reaction.
“I’ll only come out if we go now,” Steph said. “It’s now or never.”
Ed smiled wickedly. “Then let’s make it now,” he said.
I watched him stand with exquisite grace and drain the cup of coffee. He froze and stared at Steph. “What have you done?”
Steph took a step back. “What do you mean?” she said, her voice shrill and nervous.
Colour was draining from Ed. “Are you okay?” I asked.
He stared at me, shaking his head and clawing at his throat. He staggered towards me, his eyes wild, before collapsing in front of me.
“We need to call someone!” I yelled, pulling my phone from my pocket.
Steph held my arm and shook her head. In front of my horrified eyes, Ed was crumbling. First his mouth and throat collapsed into dust, then inch by inch the rest of him vanished, swirling into a sad stain on the carpet.
I turned to her. “What was in that water?” I whispered.
“I didn’t think anything would happen,” she said. “I thought I was being silly.” She looked at me, her eyes wide. “I thought I was letting stupid books get into my head. There wasn’t anything in the water. It was the water itself. It was Holy Water.”
Photo by Nineteen on Unsplash