The Hanging of Hettie Gale: A BRAND NEW dark historical mystery by Tess Burnett

Author:Tess Burnett [Burnett, Tess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books - crime, thrillers & mysteries
Published: 2024-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

A soft mist pooled around Alice’s feet as she trudged along the path that led to Hettie’s Hovel. It was rising ever-so-slowly up her legs, clinging damply to her jeans and making her shiver, even though the sun shone brightly. She hummed a little tune to herself in an attempt to dispel the feeling of dread that was beginning to seep through her bones. She’d walked this path many times before; there was no reason to feel scared, but still she trembled.

Reaching the ruin, Alice stood for a moment, trying to picture Hettie and her son as they pottered about, living their simple lives. But why were they living in such a lonely, cold place? It was hard to imagine the hovel as someone’s home, and more shivers ran up and down her spine.

Alice remembered her first visit here, with her parents and Luke. Mum hadn’t told her anything about Hettie, but had focused on the building’s original purpose, which was as a bakehouse and brewhouse, dating from medieval times; a place where ale was brewed, and the yeasty froth on top of the fermenting beer then used to make bread dough. Enough would have been made to feed everyone living in the hamlet. Mum had pointed out the remnants of the bread oven built into the side of the chimney breast, but other than that, the building was pretty much in ruins. Not surprising, really, given its age.

Walking through the entrance, Alice hesitated, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the dark. The window was curtained by braids of ivy and tall nettles that were growing unchecked, both inside and out. She almost tripped over the old iron animal feeder that stretched across the space, as she made her way to the second room behind the chimney breast. She’d never ventured in there before, but wanted to see it all today. She needed to, so she could imagine better how Hettie must have felt, living here all alone with her little boy.

Activating the torch on her phone, Alice got as far as the opening. The light didn’t touch the shadows, and the blackness was too creepy to entice her any further. Would Hettie have slept in here? Or perhaps cowered in here during a storm? She’d never know, but there was nothing to convince her that it was worth exploring further. Not when she couldn’t see what might be lurking in the shadows.

Shutting off the torch, Alice hurried back to the door and stepped into the sunshine, relishing the fresh air. The mist had vanished, leaving the grass covered in tiny drops of moisture that reflected the light, twinkling like a carpet of diamonds. Where was Hettie’s grave? She’d never been aware of its existence, and couldn’t remember any of the tourist information saying anything other than that Hettie had lived in this barn with her child. There’d been no mention of a grave; it would have been the sort of thing she and Luke would have searched for with childish, ghoulish enthusiasm.

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