'Well, let's see what's what,' Arkwright growled, giving a low whistle. Immediately both dogs bounded forward. 'Don't worry, Master Ward,' he continued. 'They're well-trained. If she's human, they won't so much as lick her!'
He suddenly began to sprint towards the house, and at that moment the fisherman looked up from his mending and came to his feet. His hair was white and he looked quite old. I saw then that my master wasn't running towards the woman; his target was the fisherman. But the dogs were. The woman looked up, dropped her washing, pulled her skirts above her knees and began to run towards the distant sea.
Without thinking I began to run too, following the dogs towards their prey. Was she a selkie? If not, why had she run away? Perhaps her neighbours were vindictive and she'd been expecting trouble. Or maybe she was simply afraid of dogs — some people were. And Tooth and Claw would scare anybody. But something about the way she made directly for the sea unnerved me.
She looked young — far younger than the fisherman; young enough to be his daughter. We were closing on her now, despite the fact that she was running fast, long hair streaming behind her, legs pumping. She seemed to have no chance of outrunning Tooth and Claw. The sea was still a long way out. But then I noticed the channel directly ahead. It was like a river running through the sands and the tide was racing in from the west. The choppy water already looked deep. Claw was at the woman's heels now, jaws open wide, but suddenly she put on an extra spurt, almost leaving the dog standing.
Then she began to throw off her clothes as she ran and dived straight into the water. I reached the edge of the channel, looking down into the gulley. There was no sign of her. Had she drowned? Chosen to die that way rather than be ripped apart by the dogs?
The dogs were howling, running along the banks but not following. Then a face and shoulders appeared briefly above the water. The woman glanced back towards me and I knew.
It was no longer a human face. The eyes were bulbous, the skin sleek. She was a selkie all right. And now she was safe in her watery home. But I was surprised by the dogs. Why hadn't they pursued her into the sea?
She was swimming powerfully up the channel against the surge of the tide, heading for the open sea. I watched her bobbing head for a few moments until she disappeared from sight, then turned and walked slowly back towards the cottage, the dogs following forlornly at my heels. In the distance I could see Arkwright, his arms wrapped around the fisherman, holding him fast. He'd prevented him from going to the aid of his wife.
As I drew closer, Arkwright released the man, who began to wave his arms frantically. Up close, he looked older than ever.
'What harm were we doing? What harm?' wailed the fisherman, tears streaming down his face. 'My life's over now. She was all I lived for. Nearly twenty years we've been together and you end it like that. And for what? The word of a few jealous so-called neighbours. What kind of man are you? She was gentle and kind and wouldn't harm a soul!'
Arkwright shook his head but didn't answer. He turned his back on the fisherman and we strode away towards the hamlet, beyond which dark heavy rain clouds were gathering. As we approached, doors started opening and curtains twitched. Only one person came out into the street, however — the thin man who'd rung the bell and summoned us to this unhappy task. He approached and held out a handful of coins. It looked like they'd taken a collection to pay my master's bill. It was a surprisingly prompt payment. John Gregory rarely got paid immediately after a job. He often had to wait months — sometimes until after the next harvest.
I thought for a moment that Arkwright wasn't going to accept the money. Even when it was in his hand, he looked more likely to throw it back in the man's face than put it in his pocket. But pocket it he did, and without a word moved on up the street.
'Won't she come back when we've gone?' I asked as we began to walk back towards the canal.
'They never come back, Master Ward,' Arkwright answered, his face grim. 'Nobody knows why but she'll spend years out at sea now. Maybe the rest of her long life. Unless she spies another man she takes a fancy to. Perhaps she'll get lonely out there. '
'Why didn't the dogs follow her into the water?' I asked.
Arkwright shrugged. 'Had they caught her first she'd have been dead by now — make no mistake. But she's very strong in her own element, and well able to defend herself. Left alone, she's harmless, so I don't ever put the dogs at risk unnecessarily. With a water witch it's different and I expect the animals to put their lives on the line. But for a seal-woman, why bother? She's no real threat to anybody. She's away now and the villagers will feel safer in their beds tonight. So our job's done.'
It seemed cruel to me and I was far from happy at having taken part in what seemed an unnecessary act. Nearly twenty years they'd been together, and now the fisherman would face a lonely and bitter old age. I vowed to myself, there and then, that when I became a spook, there were some jobs I wouldn't touch.
CHAPTER 9
Whacks and lumps!
We were back at the mill by early afternoon just as it started to rain. I'd hoped that we were going to eat but Arkwright told me to get my notebook and sit at the kitchen table. It seemed that he was going to give me a lesson.
I sat waiting for quite a while and finally he came out of the front room clutching a lit lantern and a bottle of red wine, which was already half empty. Had he drunk all that? He wore a scowl darker than a thunder cloud and didn't look in any mood for teaching.
'Write up what I taught you this morning,' he said, placing the lantern in the centre of the table. I looked at it in surprise: it was a bit gloomy in the kitchen but still light enough to work by. Then he took a big gulp from the wine bottle and stared through the grimy kitchen window at the torrential rain cascading from the roof.
While I wrote, working within the large circle of yellow light, Arkwright just continued to stare, taking the occasional swig from the bottle. By the time I'd written up all I'd learned about selkies, it was almost empty.
'Finished, Master Ward?' he asked as I put down my pen.
I nodded and gave him a smile, which he didn't return. Instead he drained the last of the wine and came swiftly to his feet.
'I think it's time for some whacks and lumps! Get your staff and follow me!'
My mouth opened and I looked at him in astonishment. I was nervous too. I didn't like the hard, cruel gleam in his eye. He snatched up his own staff and the lantern and strode off, his shoulders rolling aggressively. So I picked up my staff and rushed to follow at his heels.
He led me through the kitchen and along the corridor to the door at the end. It had two heavy bars but both of them were drawn back.
'Ever been inside here, Master Ward?'
I shook my head and Arkwright opened the door and stamped down a couple of steps into the gloom. I followed him and he hung the lantern from a hook in the middle of the ceiling. The first thing I noticed was that the room had no windows. It was perhaps ten feet by ten feet and set lower than the rest of the house, with stone flags rather than a wooden floor.
'What's "whacks and lumps"?' I asked nervously.
'It's the phrase I sometimes use for practicals. You'll have practised throwing your chain in Mr Gregory's garden and using your staff against that dead tree stump. Yesterday we took it a step further when you tried to hit me and failed. But now it's time to move on to something a little more painful. I'm going to do my best to whack you with my staff. No doubt you'll suffer a few lumps and bruises but you'll gain useful combat skills as well. Come on, Master Ward. Let's see what you're made of!'