So, in the hope that I'm not making a big mistake, I reluctantly place him in your hands for a period of six months. Do what must be done. And as for you, Bill Arkwright, I offer you the same counsel as I did when you were my apprentice. To fight the dark is your duty. But is that fight worth it if, as a consequence, your own soul withers and dies? You have much to teach the boy. Teach him well as I taught you. But in teaching, my hope is that you may also be taught. Set aside the bottle once and for all. Put your bitterness behind you and become the man you are meant to be.
John Gregory
I thrust the letter back into the envelope and pushed it into my breeches pocket. That done, I went into the darkness under the bridge and, wrapping myself in my cloak, lay down on the cold, hard ground. It was a long time before I fell asleep. I'd a lot to think about.
The Spook had tried to keep his fears from me — but not very successfully. He really did think that the Fiend would come back to destroy me. That's why he'd been mollycoddling me. He'd sent me to Arkwright to be trained and toughened up. But did that mean I had to be battered black and blue by a drunkard? Even the Spook seemed to have had reservations. It sounded as though Arkwright must have treated another of his apprentices badly. Yet, despite that, he'd still sent me to this cruel new master. That meant he thought it was important. It was then that I remembered something Alice had once said to me after we'd confronted Mother Malkin and I'd stopped her burning the witch.
Get harder or you won't survive! Just doing what Old Gregory says won't be enough. You'll die like the others!
Many of my master's apprentices had been killed while learning their trade. It was a dangerous job all right, especially now that the Devil had entered our world. But did getting harder mean that I had to be cruel like Arkwright? Let my own soul wither and die?
The arguments went round and round in my head for a long time, but at last I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and, despite the cold, slept soundly until the first grey light of dawn. It was another misty morning but now my mind was clear and sharp. On waking, I found that I'd arrived at a decision. I would go back to Arkwright and continue my training.
Firstly, I trusted my master. Despite his reluctance he thought it was the right thing to do. Secondly, my own instincts agreed. I sensed something important here. If I went back to Chipenden, I would miss the training that was supposed to take place here. And if I missed it, I would be the poorer for it. Still, it would be hard and I certainly didn't relish the thought of spending six months with Arkwright.
When I got back to the mill, the front door was unlocked and I could smell cooking even before I reached the kitchen. Arkwright was frying eggs and bacon on the top of the blazing stove.
'Hungry, Master Ward?' he asked, without bothering to turn round.
'Yes, I'm starving!' I replied.
'No doubt you're cold and damp too. But that's what you get spending a night under a dark, dank canal bridge when you could've been sleeping in relative warmth. But we'll speak no more about it. You're back and that's what counts.'
Five minutes later we were sitting at the table, tucking in to what proved to be an excellent breakfast. Arkwright seemed a lot more talkative than the day before. 'You sleep deeply,' he said. 'Too deeply. And that worries me. '
I stared at him in puzzlement. What did he mean?
'Last night I sent the bitch back to guard you. Just in case anything came out of the water. You've read your master's letter. The Fiend might send something after you at any moment, so I couldn't take any chances. When I returned, just before dawn, you were still in a very deep sleep. You didn't even know I was there. That's just not good enough, Master Ward. Even asleep you must be alert to danger. We need to do something about that. '
As soon as we'd finished breakfast, Arkwright stood up. 'As for your curiosity, it's what killed the cat. So to save you from pushing your nose in again where it doesn't belong, I'm going to show you what's what and explain the situation in this house. After that, I never want you to mention it again. Do I make myself clear?'
'Yes,' I said, pushing back my chair and standing too.
'Right, Master Ward, then follow me. '
Arkwright led the way directly up to the room with the double bed — the one saturated with water. 'There are two ghosts that haunt this mill,' he said sadly. 'The spirits of my own dad and mam. Abe and Amelia. Most nights they sleep together in this bed. She died in the water. That's why it's so wet.
'You see, they were a loving couple and now, even in death, they refuse to be separated. Dad was repairing the roof when he had a terrible accident. He fell to his death. My mam was so distraught at losing him that she killed herself. She just couldn't live without him so she threw herself under the waterwheel. It was a painful, horrific death. The wheel dragged her under and broke every bone in her body. Because she took her own life she can't cross to the other side, and my poor dad stays with her. She's strong, despite her suffering. Stronger than any ghost I've encountered. She keeps the blaze going, trying to warm her cold, wet bones. But she feels better when I'm close by. They both do.'
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came. It was a terrible tale. Was this why Arkwright was so hard and cruel?
'Right, Master Ward, there's more to see. Follow me. '
'I've seen enough, thanks,' I told him. 'I'm really sorry about your mam and dad. You're right, it's none of my business—'
'We've started so we'll go on to the end. You're going to see it all!'
He led the way up the next flight of stairs and into his private room. There were only embers in the bottom of the stove but the air was warm. The poker and tongs were in the coal scuttle. We passed by the three chairs and went directly to the two coffins in the corner.
'My parents are both bound to their bones,' he told me, 'so they're not able to move much beyond the confines of the mill. I dug 'em up and brought 'em here where they'd be more comfortable. Better than haunting that windswept graveyard on the edge of the marsh. They don't mean anyone any harm. Sometimes the three of us sit in here together and talk. That's when they're happiest. '
'Can't anything be done?' I asked.
Arkwright turned on me, his face livid with anger.
'Don't you think I haven't tried? That's why I became a spook in the first place! I thought my training would give me the knowledge to set them free. But it all came to nothing. Mr Gregory came here eventually to see if he could help. He did his best but it was useless. So now you know, don't you?'
I nodded and lowered my eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
'Look,' he said, his voice much softer, 'I'm struggling against a private demon of my own — the "Demon Drink", to give it its full title. It makes me harder and crueller than I would be otherwise, but at the moment I just can't manage without it. It takes away the pain — allows me to forget what I've lost. No doubt I've let things go a bit but I still have a lot to teach you, Master Ward. You've read that letter: it's my duty to toughen you up and ready you for the increasing threat from the Fiend. And there's evidence here that the dark is rising faster than ever before. Ever since I heard you were coming, my task has grown harder. I've never seen so much water-witch activity. It may well be directed at you. So you've got to be ready. Do I make myself clear?'
I nodded again.