Parliament of Rooks by Karen Perkins

Author:Karen Perkins [Perkins, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LionheART Publishing House
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10.

‘Aunt Jayne,’ Hannah cried, waving madly before dashing to hug Jayne.

I smiled as Jayne’s face lit up in an expression of pleasure I’d seen nobody but Hannah evince in her since her own son and daughter had left home. Hannah had been the one who had convinced her to join us this evening.

Escaping Hannah’s clutches, Jayne greeted Lara and me, waiting patiently on the church steps.

‘Auntie Verity’s got a boyfriend,’ Hannah announced before we’d barely had chance to say hello. ‘He’s going to paint my picture. And Mum wore walking boots without heels. All day!’

‘Are you serious? I’ve been gone less than a week!’

‘We’ve got a lot to tell you,’ Lara said, then approached the gentleman dressed in top hat and tails to collect a couple of lanterns he was handing out.

Jayne squeezed my arm and looked at me. ‘Verity?’

‘Not now,’ I said, nodding at the top-hatted man. ‘The tour’s about to start, we don’t have time – I’ll fill you in later. I could do with your advice.’

‘Okay,’ Jayne drawled. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m not sure, to be honest.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,’ Top Hat said, forestalling all conversation for the moment. ‘The ghosts of Haworth welcome you and invite you into their world.’

‘Had enough of that already,’ I hissed to Lara.

The man glared at me, then bade the small group across Main Street to Gauger’s Croft.

I leaned against the stone wall of the narrow, covered passageway and relaxed as I listened to the man weave his story of inns and slums, horses and carriageways, ladies in full skirts dropping small curtseys in response to the lifted top hats of gentlemen’s greetings.

I peered out at Main Street; it seemed to have grown darker, much darker, and I blinked when I realised the modern-day streetlamps – fashioned to resemble olde worlde gaslights – had disappeared. In their stead were the broad, dancing naked flames of pitch torches.

I gasped and clamped my hand over my mouth as I emerged on to Main Street to investigate further. The place stank. The underlying smell of burning pitch and coal fires added a singed accent to the overpowering stench of raw sewage and rot.

I lifted my foot to investigate what I had stood in, and realised the entire street was filth. The cobbles were gone and muck flowed down the steep hill.

I jumped backwards to avoid the two gentlemen about to walk into me, and shouted after them, but they did not acknowledge my presence.

Turning to Lara, my mouth dropped open. She was gone, as were Jayne, Hannah and the rest of the ghost tour group. They hadn’t passed me, so they must have moved deeper into Gauger’s Croft. I hurried after them and was again halted by the overpowering stench of sewage.

Horses were crammed together so tightly the air could barely circulate around them, and I did not want to think about the constituents of the stinking piles the dim torchlight revealed.

Midden heaps, I thought. Those are midden heaps.

Fear solidified into a

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