Omega

But today there had been no cloud on Eileen's cheerfulness. They had spent the morning on a hot beach near Aldeburgh in Suffolk, had lazed over a midday Guinness on the lawn of a pub near Wickham Market, and were now heading further inland in the direction of Stowmarkct by little winding back lanes.

They did not see the young woman till they were almost on her; she had been hidden by a corner, and as they rounded it Miss Smith jammed on her brakes. The woman jerked her head round defensively and for a moment they simply stared at her, not believing what they saw.

She was about twenty-five, stark naked and riding a broomstick. She had no choice; it was jammed high between her legs and roped tightly to her thighs, and her wrists were tied securely to the front end of the handle; the twigs of the besom projected behind her rump. Across the back of her shoulders had been scrawled the one word 'WITCH' in black paint. She had a swelling black eye, dried tear-marks in the dust on her cheeks, blistered and bleeding feet and her fair skin showed angry red patches of developing sunburn.

Miss Smith and Eileen came to their senses simultaneously and jumped into the road, running towards her. She gave a little cry of fright, nearly stumbling as she backed into the grass verge, but then hesitated as she realized they were women alone.

Incoherent noises of reassurance tumbled from Miss Smith's lips as she struggled vainly to untie the girl's wrists. Eileen cried, 'I'll get a knife,' and ran back to the caravan. The girl, once she realized she was safe with them, seemed in spite of her pain to be trying to hold herself erect, and there was a look of stubborn pride on her bruised face which brought a lump into Miss Smith's throat.

Take it easy, now, love,' Miss Smith said gruffly. "We'll see to you.'

'I'm glad you came,' the girl told her. 'It was…'

'Don't try to tell us yet. Wait till you're in the caravan.'

Eileen was back and cutting at the cords, the girl gritting her teeth as the strands came away from the raw weals they had bitten into her flesh. With the rope binding her thighs to the broomstick Eileen had to be very gentle, for it was obvious the girl had walked – or hobbled – for some distance in that state; nor, Eileen diagnosed sickly, was that all that had been done to her.

The broomstick removed and thrown into the hedge, they supported her to the caravan. Eileen spread a blanket and sheet on one of the bunks, and the girl had to lie on it face downwards because her back was too painful.

'I'm a nurse,' Eileen told her, 'and before we do anything you're getting a bit of first aid… I'm Eileen and this is Angela. What's your name?'

'May Groombridge. I live in Coddenham, a couple of kilometres ahead. I was trying to get there.'

'How far had you come already?'

'About the same. Bit more, perhaps.'

'Good God! Want to tell us what happened?'

'Oh, I'll tell you – but…' For the first time she seemed embarrassed. 'Before that, just in case it's not too late -I mean, you're a nurse… Have you got anything – well, contraceptive?'

Miss Smith had to admire her cousin's professional calm. 'How long ago was it?'

'An hour – I don't know, exactly. Hard to judge time -like when you're drunk, sort of.'

'I know."

Eileen did the best she could in the circumstances, and then treated and bandaged her patient's other injuries.

May bore it all very well and managed to sit up and be clothed in a towelling robe. By then Miss Smith had made some hot tea.

'Do you feel ready to go home now? Will there be anybody there?'

'My husband – Jimmy – he won't be back till six. No one else. But there's neighbours. Good friends – I can bring one of them in. Witches, like me.' Again the note of pride. 'Most of Coddenham is, now. I guess that's why they picked on us.'

'They?'

'I don't know who they were. Six of them – they came in a van, rather like yours. Had a drink in the pub and then wandered round the village for an hour or so. Didn't speak to anybody or smile or anything, just watched; it was creepy… I had to go out of the village a way, I had a message for one of the farms, so I got on my bike – and soon as I was out of sight of the houses, they caught up with me. Must've been waiting for one of us to be alone. Clever, they were. Strong, too, else I might've got away -but six of 'em… Anyway, they chucked my bike in a field and took me up to an old empty barn back there.' She broke off for a moment, her control wavering.

'Don't push yourself,' Eileen warned her. 'You've been marvellous – but you'd better know, the shock will probably hit you later. So take it easy.'

'I know it will – I ain't no fool… Anyway, they gagged me and tied me up, and four of them had me. The fellow who seemed in charge, he just seemed to get a kick out of watching, and the other one, he looked a queer to me… It sounds silly but do you know the awful thing? None of 'em hardly spoke, except every now and then one of 'em would say "Witch!", horribly, like spitting it… Then when they'd done, they tied me to the broomstick, like you – saw, and put me in their van, and dropped me in this road where there's no farms or anything near and said to enjoy my walk home.'

Miss Smith let out her breath which she realized she had been holding. 'Right, love. First stop, the police. Then home.'

May Groombridge snorted. 'Police? You're joking. They took Sergeant Wells away from the village just after Midsummer and put a new man in who's got no time for witches an' says that's why he was sent here, 'cos we're a hotbed. Very fond of that word, hotbed, he is.'

'Oh, surely – over this…'

This time the snort was a bitter laugh. 'You weren't the first car that came by me, you know. There was one other – him, in his lovel y clean panda. He looked me straight in the eye – and then up and down, nice and slow. Then he drove on.'

Miss Smith turned to her cousin. 'Eileen – I think the holiday's over.'

Eileen was right about the shock. May maintained her unnatural poise until after they had taken her to her cottage and fetched the neighbour she asked for, a motherly woman who seemed reassuringly capable. Then, clinging to her, May screamed and screamed and went on screaming. It was a heavily sedated wife they handed over to Jimmy Groombridge, hastily summoned by phone from his work in Ipswich.

Jimmy, though white with rage, was collected enough to be grateful for Eileen's professional presence, especially as the village doctor was still out on his rounds. Eileen guessed that the very fact of May's collapse helped him to keep his head for both of them.

Eileen offered to stay till the doctor came and they were glad to have her; Jimmy was probably as frightened as he was angry, because he pressed Eileen for full details of May's condition. Eileen gave them, adding the warning that the contraceptive douche she had administered would have been too late to be more than a hope. Fortunately Jimmy was able to reinforce the hope with a precise knowledge of May's menstrual cycle and Eileen confirmed that the time was 'safe' in theory at least.

With Jimmy back, May rallied, and drugged though she was she would not rest till she had told him the whole story. Eileen was puzzled by the purposefulness of the telling; it seemed more than the natural urge many wives would have felt in the circumstances – more as though May knew her husband needed the facts for action. It troubled Eileen, especially when May described the policeman's deliberate callousness amounting to complicity. She wondered if Jimmy – who was a big man – would rush up to the policeman's house and exact revenge, which would be understandable but would only land him in prison when his wife needed him most. But Jimmy merely went on listening and holding May's hand, though his other fist clenched till the knuckles cracked.