The Spook's Battle by Joseph Delaney Read Free Book Online

parish church was to the south of the village, just beyond a stream. It was set within a huge graveyard filled with rows and rows of tombstones of every conceivable shape and size. Many were horizontal, almost hidden by the long grass and weeds; others jutted out of the ground at any angle but the vertical, resembling rotting teeth. In all, this cemetery spoke of neglect, the headstones weather-beaten, their inscriptions faded or covered in lichen and moss."The graves could do with a bit of a tidy up," observed the Spook.
     "I'm surprised Father Stocks has allowed it to fall into neglect like this. ..."The presbytery *was a good-sized cottage set back under a dozen or so yew trees about a hundred yards beyond the church. We reached it by walking in single file along a narrow, overgrown path that snaked through the tombstones. When we arrived at the front door, the Spook rapped hard on it three times. After a few moments we heard the sound of heavy boots on flags; then a bolt was drawn back and the door opened. Father Stocks stood there, a look of astonishment on his face."Well, this is a surprise, John," he said, relaxing his face into a smile. "I wasn't expecting you until later in the week. Anyway, come in, the both of you, and make yourselves at home!"We followed him through to the kitchen at the back of the house, and he invited us to sit down. "Have you eaten?" he asked as we each pulled a chair away from the table. "What about you, young Tom? You look hungry enough to eat a horse!"
     "I am hungry, Father," I told him, glancing toward the Spook, "but I'm not sure if we should be eating. ..."The Spook always insists that we fast when working because it makes us less vulnerable to the power of the dark, so we usually make do with a nibble of County cheese to keep our strength up. A spook's life is not only scary, dangerous, and lonely; it often means going hungry as well."It wouldn't do any harm to eat breakfast," said the Spook, to my surprise. "We need information before anything else, and I was hoping, Father, that you'd be the man to get it for us. So we won't get much done ourselves until tomorrow. This could be the last square meal we eat for quite some time, so, yes, please, I think we'll accept your kind invitation."
     "So be it!" exclaimed Father Stocks, his face lighting up. "I'll be happy to help in any way I can, but let's cook first and talk while we eat. I'll make the three of us a hearty breakfast, but I might need a hand. Know how to cook sausages, young Tom?" I was about to say "Yes," but the Spook shook his head at that and came to his feet. "Nay, Father, don't let that lad o' mine near a frying pan! I've tasted his cooking before, and my stomach's still not forgiven me!"I smiled but didn't protest, and while the Spook was busy frying the sausages, Father Stocks got two other pans going --one sizzling away with thick rashers of bacon and slices of onion, the other struggling to contain a large cheese omelet, which was gradually turning a golden brown.I sat at the table while they cooked, hungry but guilty at the same time. My mouth -was watering at the smells wafting toward me, but I couldn't stop worrying about Ellie, Jack, and Mary, wondering if they were all right. They certainly wouldn't be getting a breakfast like this.
     I wondered how Alice was doing, too. I'd been half expecting to find that she'd arrived at Downham with news. I hoped she hadn't run into trouble."Well, young Tom," said Father Stocks, "there's something you can do to help without damaging your master's stomach too much. Butter us some bread, and make it a big plateful!"I did as I was told, and no sooner had I finished than three hot plates arrived at the table, each heaped with bacon, sausages, and fried onion next to a big slice of omelet."Had a good journey here from Chipenden?" Father Stocks asked as we tucked into the food."I'm not complaining, but things have taken a turn for the worse since we last spoke," answered the