Rambling

Lucy's old Metro gave a chesty groan as it came to a halt outside the cottage. She sat in the driver's seat surveying the scene. An idyllic cottage strewn with climbing roses which was set in the midst of a wild flowering orchard. She poked her head out of the car window and let the heat fall heavy onto her face. She looked up at the sky and noticed it was the same colour blue as that depicted on water colour paintings.

It was perfect she thought. Absolutely perfect. She was so glad to have given up her stressful job in London as a book editor for the more precarious profession of a novelist. The pennies would not be so plentiful to be sure, but her health and happiness came first. And as a forty-something woman who had an attractive face and had kept herself trim, she was hoping that something that she had neglected for so long, romance, might finally walk her way.

She removed her belongings from the boot and made her way inside. There was already some post waiting for her on the mat. There was one envelope which stood out from the rest so she placed her bags on the floor and picked it up. It was a very expensive envelope, thick parchment and the writing was old fashioned Copperplate, the type that she was originally taught at school, but had abandoned it for scrawl from the time she became an adult.

Well would you believe it, she thought, as she opened the envelope, it was an invite to join the local rambling group, she was asked to contact Mr Peregrine, presumably the owner of the Copperplate writing. How on earth did anyone know that I was a keen walker, she remarked to herself, pleased at knowing there was a local group she could join. She did not feel safe walking on her own.
Later that evening when the van with her furniture had arrived and she was more or less ship-shape she decided that she would phone Mr Peregrine and find out when the next walk was. However, before she could phone him, her mobile rang.

"I'm sorry to trouble you Miss Leward, a well-bred voice said, "It's Adam Peregrine here, from the Walkers' Society.

"Hello, Mr Peregrine, said Lucy, "please call me Lucy.

"Lucy, continued Mr Peregrine. "I know that you must be rather busy, but we, the walkers, thought that you might like to join us tomorrow for our Midsummer's eve walk.

"I'd like that very much Mr Peregrine, what time and where?

"At 8pm my dear, near the church gates.

"Isn't that a bit late for a walk?

"Not at all my dear. It will be a most beautiful evening.

"Do we go to the pub afterwards?

Lucy noticed a pause on the line before Mr Peregrine replied. "Yes of course, something like that.

She placed the receiver down gently. She was feeling good. She could tell by Mr Peregrine's tone that she was going to blend in well with village life. There might even be a tall dark handsome man on the walk if she was really lucky. She rushed to the cupboard where she had just placed her hiking boots.

***

Mr Peregrine was right. It was going to be a wonderful evening for a walk. It had been a hot day and there was a fine mist beginning to envelop the churchyard as she stood nonchalantly by the gate leading up to the church itself. She twisted her walking pole like a cheerleader as she listened to the gentle roosting of countless birds. She decided that she would not want to be at the church at night on her own. It was much to creepy.

"Are you going on the walk?

She was momentarily frightened and dropped her pole.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.

She looked up at the man who had picked up her pole. He was the man of her dreams, tall, good-looking and dark, albeit a little on the pale side. He had interesting hazel eyes that held an extremely direct gaze.

She smiled at him. "It's all right. You didn't really. But you might have if it was dark.

"Possibly, he said, "but you should not fear darkness, it won't hurt you.

"Ah Greg, I see you've met our newest recruit to The Group.

Lucy watched a red faced man wearing plus-fours and stout walking boots come into view.

"Hello Lucy, I'm Donald Peregrine, leader of The Group.

He smiled and Lucy could not help but notice what canine-like teeth he had. "I'm very pleased to meet you Mr Peregrine.

"Likewise, my dear, but do call me Donald, the others always do. Talking of which Greg, where are the others?

"I think I can hear them now.

Lucy watched as out of the mist marched a crocodile of five people, led by an overweight woman with heavy dark eye make up.

"Look everyone, beamed Mr Peregrine, "here's our newest member, Lucy. I'm sure she'll enjoy The Group.

"Yes, the others chanted in unison.

Lucy surveyed the rest of the walkers as she was introduced to them. The large lady was the butcher's wife, behind her was a mousy little woman who was the postmistress and following behind was the landlord of the only pub, the owner of the dress shop: a skinny woman in her early forties and the undertaker from the next village, Mr Spotts. Lucy assumed the weather had not been very good in the village as everyone looked extremely pale. Perhaps there is an epidemic of anaemia the thought.

"Well, we should be getting along now, said Mr Peregrine clapping his hands, "it will be dusk soon.

"Goody goody, shouted the timid postmistress much to Lucy's surprise.

As they were about to set off, a figure rushed past them, and The Group slowly parted. Lucy caught the frightened blue eyes of a short man with frizzy brown hair as he quickly made his way along the church path. She thought he was trying to say something to her as he swept past but appeared to have thought better of it.

Once he was in the churchyard, The Group reassembled and Lucy thought that she heard the skinny woman hiss.

"Hello vicar, said Mr Peregrine cheerfully, "don't you fancy coming for a walk with us this fine evening?

The vicar coughed and spluttered and the group laughed loudly until he disappeared inside the church.
"What's wrong with the vicar? asked Lucy as they began walking along a beautiful woodland path?

"He's a funny bloke, remarked Greg, "he's new around here and doesn't seem to want to join in the spirit of the community.

The rest of The Group laughed. "Don't worry about him my dear, said Mr Peregrine, "I can tell you're much more sociable than him and that's admirable in this day and age. We've tried our best with the vicar but he refuses to integrate.

"But how does he behave at church? asked Lucy. "What are his sermons like?

"I wouldn't know my dear, laughed Mr Peregrine, "we don't go to church do we?

"No, the rest of The Group chorused, and then laughed loudly.

Lucy felt her bones becoming chilled as dusk left and darkness began to approach.

"Are you planning on going to church then? enquired the publican. He looked at her through foxy eyes.

"Well, I'm not a regular churchgoer, she stuttered, "but I go every few months.

Mr Peregrine looked troubled, "Really, well I don't think it's something you'll want to do here.
Lucy was about to ask why, when Mr Peregrine began pointing out various plant life as they trekked further into the forest.

Although she was walking alongside The Group she began to feel lonely, as if she was not part of them. But then she supposed it was because she was new and it always took her time to get to know people.

Greg quickened his pace until he was next to her. "Don't feel lonely Lucy, you'll soon be one of the crowd.

She smiled at him, "Does it look obvious?

He smiled back, and she thought his teeth were slightly wolf like, "It's always difficult the first time, but then it gets easier afterwards.

"I suppose you're right, she agreed, "have you lived in the area for long?

"He's been here for generations, replied Mr Peregrine.

"You mean his family have, said Lucy.

"As you like my dear, whatever... said Mr Peregrine.

Lucy looked around her and The Group were all smiling at her. "Look, said the postmistress, the moon has arrived. It's full moon.

Lucy watched as they all cheered. From somewhere deep in the forest there was a loud bloodcurdling howl. She moved closer to Greg. She felt his hand encircle her waist.

"Don't be frightened, he said, "it's just a dog, we get quite a few of them around here.

"This is the devil's copse we are coming into now, remarked Mr Peregrine. "It's our favourite part of the wood, We've walked over a mile now. I think it's time for refreshments now don't you?

"Yes, the rest of the group shouted..

"I didn't bring anything, said Lucy, "I thought we were going to the pub later.

The publican looked at her. "Fraid we can't do that duck. The pub's been closed for years.

"But we always share our refreshments with each other, said Mr Peregrine, "and now that you are part of the group you can share with us.

The mist homed in, until even the bright yellow moon was obscured. Lucy heard branches being trampled underfoot. She heard laughter and moaning and there was a strange smell, like decomposed flesh. Like the odour of death. The mist was heavy and she could not see any one, yet she knew she was not alone.

She called out to The Group but no one replied. The mist cleared a little and she could see two people standing under a large oak tree, it was Greg and the skinny woman from the dress shop. He was biting deep into her neck and she was crying in ecstasy. Lucy looked on horrified as she saw blood spurting from the woman's neck. Greg looked up, his eyes had turned a bright amber colour and blood was pouring down his chin. He smiled when he saw her looking then went back to devouring the woman's neck.

"It's time to join in now my dear...share the refreshments...you can become one of us.

Mr Peregrine smiled kindly at her his teeth were covered in blood and the fat woman, the butcher's wife, was by his side, a large bloody hole was visible in the side of her neck.

The group closed in on Lucy. They were all deathly pale now, all covered in blood and all with brilliant amber eyes. The luminous yellow moon arose out of the mist and The Group started howling as they moved nearer and nearer.

Lucy wanted to scream...

***

Inside the church, the vicar prayed furiously for another lost soul.