Black Hare Valley: Chapter Twenty-Two “The Ruins”

NOTE: I don’t know what’s wrong with me this week but I send the Substack chapter out today instead of tomorrow and I sent the WordPress chapter out on the wrong site!! Anyway, to make up for it I am posting two chapters this week. There will be another one tomorrow!

The Ruins – image is mine

© 2025 Chantelle Atkins. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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1

Willow writes three identical notes on Wednesday morning before leaving for school. Each one reads simply: The Ruins, Saturday, from 12pm. She decides to write ‘from’ 12pm because after that she has all day. If the others can’t make it until 1pm, 2pm or 3pm, she will just wait.

At school she passes Jaime her note as they cross paths in the playground. She slides Ralph’s into his hand at first break after lingering briefly outside his English class. She doesn’t expect to see Jesse in school but keeps her hand curled around his note just in case. She has to fight hard to hide her amazement when she spots him in the canteen at lunchtime. He looks okay too, which is even more amazing. She wants to rush up and throw a million questions at him but she forces herself to hold back. She knows they are being watched. She agrees with Jaime that pretending to lose interest in finding Paddy is their best bet right now.

She keeps an eye on Jesse until she sees him leave and then she gets up, follows and just as he joins the throng of students in the corridor outside, she slips the note into his back pocket, turns and walks quickly away.

By the end of the day, Willow has received three notes of her own.

From Jaime: I’ll be there. Got lots to tell but Mum and Mark not letting me anywhere!

From Ralph: I’ll be there!

From Jesse: I’ll try. It’s OK here. Weird but OK.

Willow is relieved to read that last bit. She had a sleepless night tossing and turning, unable to stop imagining what awful things might be happening to him. But he’s okay, and back at school which is odd, but at least Mayor Sumner is letting him out.

It’s all odd, Willow thinks on her way home, it’s all very, very odd. Her own parents are not exactly keeping her under lock and key but she has sensed a change in them. They seem nervy and on edge. On Wednesday evening though, her mother finally caves in to her constant badgering and thrusts a handful of old photographs at her.

‘Here,’ she says, something dark and unhappy dancing in her eyes. ‘I finally found them. You can stop going on about it now, and before you ask, no, I don’t remember anything about Carol-Anne Radley.’

‘You must remember she went missing?’ Willow frowns at her as she takes the photos. ‘It must have been in the paper or something?’

Her mother shakes her head, twirling a length of black hair nervously around one index finger. ‘I always thought she just got packed off to a relative or something.’

‘What about Angie? What about Jesse’s mum?’

Lizzie lifts and drops her shoulders and a look of something close to revulsion crosses over her features as she steps away from her daughter. ‘Angie always was a strange one. They were a strange family, and her and Nicky Archer, it didn’t end well. It was never going to end well with those two.’

Willow looks down at the photos and when she looks up to ask another question, her mother has left her room and closed the door behind her. Mystified, Willow shakes her head and examines the photos. There are three.

The first shows a group of young girls all wearing long white dresses and clutching posies of wild flowers. Willow wonders if they are flower girls or bridesmaids and then her eye is drawn to the girl in the middle. She is also wearing a white dress but upon her head of loose fair curls is a crown of flowers, and she is perched demurely on a chair that has been decorated to look like a thrown.

‘May Day,’ Willow whispers, placing her finger gently on the May Queen.

The May Queen looks about twelve or thirteen and she is smiling so widely and brightly, Willow can feel the pure joy in her heart. Her hands are clutching her own posy of flowers and her bare feet are tucked just under the chair. Willow stares at her long and hard, before allowing her gaze to drift to the other girls. She thinks they are aged roughly between four and twelve, and the smallest ones are sat cross-legged on the grass in front of the grinning May Queen.

Her eyes are drawn to one who is undoubtedly her mother. She holds a striking resemblance to Willow, with the same long black hair, though hers has a wide flowered headband holding it back from her slim face. She’s one of the taller girls standing at the back of the group and she has a somewhat haughty and slightly unimpressed air about her, her smile forced and sardonic.

Willow has no idea what Angie and Carol-Anne Radley looked like so she scans the rest of the faces fiercely, looking for Jesse. She runs her finger across the bottom row first, staring intently at each sweet cherubic face. She can’t see Jesse’s scowling eyes in any of them. The next row are a bit older, four girls clustered around the throne, and the back row is made up of her mother and two other girls. She discounts these immediately. She recognises one as Alexa’s mother. Her teenage face is an exact replica of her smug-faced daughters, and she thinks the other girl might be Paddy’s mother.

She focuses on the middle row, the girls surrounding the May Queen. Willow peers into each face and finally makes a connection. The May Queen, although fair-haired, has the exact same face shape, smile and nose as the girl leaning towards her from the right. They both look like they are suppressing an outburst of giggles and their lips, cheeks and eyes are all set exactly the same.

Bingo, she thinks. Carol-Anne must be the May Queen and Angie is the darker haired one leaning next to her. And now that she really scrutinises them, she thinks she can see Jesse in their faces too. She pictures his face when he smiles, how his mouth stretches up more on one side than the other and how his dark eyes almost vanish into his face and she sees it as clear as day. His mother and aunt in the photo with her mother.

Willow slips the photo to the bottom of the pile and examines the next. It only takes a second for Willow to place the location – Milly’s Café. Her mother stands centre stage, one elbow leaning on the countertop while her other hand clutches her narrow waist. She has one leg kicked out behind her, making her pose both dramatic and amusing. Willow smiles as she takes in the younger version of her mother. Long black hair, this time with a heavy fringe skirting dark eyes heavily made up with mascara and eye-liner. Her eyes are narrowed slightly and Willow almost laughs. She’s seen that cool, unimpressed look enough times from her mother. In this photo Lizzie is smiling with her mouth wide open, laughing maybe.

‘So cool,’ Willow murmurs admiringly.

She takes in the rest of the photo and immediately picks out Jesse’s father, Nick Archer.

‘Wow,’ she says, blinking.

It looks almost like Jesse has gone back in time. There he is with his dark hair cut into a fringe, Beatles style, the back and sides looking in need of a trim, curling under his ears and from behind his neck. His eyes are familiar too, dark and scowling, his top lip lifting in a slight sneer while his lips betray him with a smile. He’s wearing a black donkey jacket over dark blue jeans with a white t-shirt. He’s stood beside Willow’s mother, in the centre of the group, a cigarette in one hand and a mug of something in the other.

‘Unbelievable,’ says Willow, turning her attention to the next teenager, another boy, this time perched on a stool and looking back over one shoulder. ‘Oh my God, Ralph!’ Willow blurts out before slapping a hand over her mouth.

She can see where he gets his build and his curls from. The young man who must undoubtedly be Frankie Maxwell, is stocky, his face wide, his gaze firm and unamused. His hair is a tangle of brown curls and he too, is smoking a cigarette.

On the other side of him, her back to the counter, her hands linked in front of her, is a girl who must be Angie, Jesse’s mother. She looks different than the May Queen photo, her dark hair is shorter, a feathered bob style that accentuates her elfin features. She is smiling for the camera but there is no mistaking the haunted, anxious look in her eyes. Willow wonders if Carol-Anne was the one who took the photo, or whether she had already gone missing by the time it was taken.

Sighing, she turns to the final photo. She can’t work out where it was taken, but taking centre stage once again is Nick Archer. This time he is straddling a motorbike, a cigarette clamped between his teeth. He’s not looking at the camera, but appears to be saying something to someone out of shot. His hair looks longer and messier and if Willow really stares, she thinks she can see a cut on his lower lip.

Frankie Maxwell is there again, this time sitting in the grass in front of the motorbike, his knees bent, and his arms around a shaggy lurcher dog. He’s smiling in this one but it looks somewhat forced. Sat beside him is Willow’s mother. She has her own cigarette on the go, hanging loosely from her fingers over one bent knee. She’s dressed casually in bell-bottomed jeans and a flowery top. Her hair is in a ponytail pulled over one shoulder.

She looks sadder too, Willow thinks. There is a trace of a smile on her lips but it’s lost and whimsical and she appears to be gazing at something off camera too. Willow examines the background. She can see fields, and it looks like summer going by the colour of the grass. There is a fence in the distance, she can just make it out stretching between two far off trees. A building beyond that, possibly a house, she’s not sure.

Fascinated, greedy with the hunger for more, Willow slips the photos under her pillow and cannot wait to show the others tomorrow.

That night is another sleepless one for Willow as the anticipation for Saturday grows inside her alongside the excitement of sharing the photos. Her stomach is a mess as she lies on the bed, pressing her hands against it. Her chest too – it feels tight and weird like she can’t catch a breath properly. She thinks of the ruins and her friends and everything Jesse will be able to tell them about Hill Fort Farm. She thinks of Jaime’s words, ‘got lots to tell’ and wonders what on earth it can be. How can she have dug anything else up with her mum and stepdad keeping such a close eye on her?

She has to wait. And waiting is torture.

When sleep refuses to come anywhere close, Willow gives up and goes to the window. The back garden is a dark rectangle, narrow and long just like the one behind Paddy’s shop. The sides are lined with thick clusters of trees and shrubs and a small shed sits at the end beside the gate – the plastic window glinting in a streak of silver moonlight.

It’s here that Willow sees the movement. Although after, when she tries to see it and reimagine it in her head, she can’t quite get it right and it feels more like an impossible dream than anything else. In the moment, she thinks she sees a creature moving slowly in a cautious, loping manner. Her eyes strain to pick out form and shape; a sloping back and long ears. She knows what she’s hoping to see and she doesn’t hesitate. She tears from her room and races downstairs. She wrenches open the back door and whispers, ‘Paddy?’

But the shape has gone. The garden is still. The only sound is a far off howl that makes her jump in fright and slam the door.

2

On Saturday, Jesse is the first to arrive at the ruins. He checks his watch while still climbing the final slope of the hill. It’s 11.50am. He’s breathless and red-cheeked and physically feels better than he has in a long time. Margaret Sumner is a good cook – serving no-nonsense meals that fill him up. She doesn’t believe in snacks or fast food. He’s never consumed so many vegetables in his life.

It’s been a strange week – almost dreamlike, he reflects as he pushes on up the hill. The biggest relief came with his return to school and the biggest surprise in him making it to Friday without a detention. He can tell Bishop is appalled to have him back but fuck him and fuck Mayfield too; for some reason, the mayor seems to like Jesse.

She still won’t let him ask too many questions and she likes to keep him busy. There are always chores to be done around the farm but she isn’t keeping him imprisoned, which is what he feared. Does that mean she trusts him? He thinks probably not but what can he do but try to be patient?

Coming here now is a risk. She thinks he is visiting his brothers but instead he’s clambering up the hill to the ruins to meet the unlikely group of people who he now considers his friends. Despite the risks, Jesse is excited.

He reaches the top and turns around. Black Hare Valley lies below and he feels it watching him. At the moment, it naps with one eye open. It knows he can’t and won’t get far so he can stand on the edge if he likes. The High Street looks like a fat black snake coiling through the centre, winding through the hills, spewing out houses and shops and lives. The rest of the scenery is breathtaking. There is no denying its stark and majestical breed of beauty. The sky is a cold pale blue and the white clouds are stretched thin like the boundaries of town are pulling them taught.

The rolling hills seem to go on forever – layered in different shades of green, decorated with clutches of woods, and sparkling with the drift of a river or stream. A song thrush calls out in the trees behind. A flock of pigeons rear up from the grass lower down and as Jesse peers over he can see a figure in dark clothes making her way up. Black hair billows out behind her. Willow.

Jesse turns and strolls into the ruins and straight into Steven and Dominic. ‘Fuck,’ he mutters as he steps back from Steven’s chest. ‘What’re you doing here?’

‘Just passing the time,’ smirks Steven, narrowing his eyes. ‘Was once a time you used to hang out here with us.’

Jesse remembers those times. Smoking weed and stolen booze and smashing bottles. Spraying graffiti on the ancient stones, plotting revenge on teachers, parents and nosy neighbours. He feels faintly sick thinking about it now.

He shrugs. ‘Yeah well, times change. Thanks a lot for setting me up the other night by the way.’

Steven just grins but Dominic shrugs apologetically. ‘Sorry. Mayfield caught us smashing up the Cotton house. You know what he’s like.’

‘Yeah, I do.’ He looks at Dominic. ‘Be careful or he’ll be blackmailing you to do all sorts. Been there.’

‘Yeah, and where are you now exactly?’ ponders Steven, stepping forward. ‘I heard you’re living at the mayor’s place? I mean, shit, what the hell is that about?’

Jesse glances away to make sure Willow has not arrived yet. ‘Long story,’ he sighs.

He bites his lip and thinks the old him would have punched Steven by now. But something – everything – has changed him and he doesn’t feel the urge. He also doesn’t feel it’s right, after all, Steven and Dominic were blackmailed just how he used to be. He considers asking them to tell him what they’d been caught doing for Mayfield to blackmail them into stealing the book from Paddy’s treehouse, but he’s not sure it’s wise and besides that, he doesn’t have the energy to converse with them for much longer. He has a moment to consider how much his life has changed, when Steven shoves him in the chest.

He moves away and lifts his hands. ‘Hey, Steven.’

‘Think you’re better than us, don’t you?’ Steven sneers, pushing him again. ‘First, you’re hanging around with a bunch of losers and now you’re living the high life over there with the mayor?’ He drags his gaze up and down Jesse in slow disgust. ‘You’ve changed, Jesse.’

‘Yeah, I have,’ agrees Jesse. ‘I was a knob before. A bully, like you.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Steven shoves him harder.

‘Stop it, man.’

‘Make me!’ Steven growls and reaches for him. Jesse side steps then sticks out a foot. Steven sprawls face first into the wet grass then leaps up screaming, ‘You dirty fighter! You shitting bastard!’

‘Someone’s coming,’ Dominic mumbles from behind them.

Jesse is bored of this shit. He wants them both gone before Willow and the others arrive. He shoulders Steven roughly – enough to knock him off balance, then he shoves him again, this time sending him onto his backside.

‘Get out of here,’ he tells Dominic who does not need to be told twice. He slouches away, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

Jesse stands back, allowing Steven the space to pick himself up and dust himself off. He does, just before shouldering his way aggressively past Jesse.

‘This isn’t over. You’re a dead man, Archer.’

Jesse raises his eyebrows and watches him go. When he’s sure they have both gone and have not crossed paths with Willow, he races over to Billy’s hiding place and finds what he hoped would be there: a new stash of weed and papers in a small metal tin. Nice one Billy, he thinks with a grin.

He crouches with his back to the wall and is busy perfecting the perfect joint when Willow finally appears. At first he thinks she will judge him or scold him, but when she sees what he’s doing, she just sighs and drags a bottle out from under her cloak.

Vodka? Jesus Christ.’

‘My parents have had it in the cupboard for years. I figured they wouldn’t miss it and we might need it.’

Jesse is genuinely shocked. She leans on the wall beside him and stares at the bottle as if in a dream.

‘It’ll be pretty potent then,’ he comments.

She glances at him. ‘Yeah. Probably a dumb idea.’

‘Nah. Hey, I’ll definitely try some.’ He grins at her and she grins back. ‘Is this the kind of thing you and Paddy used to get up to then?’ He’s still grinning, waiting for her answer while she stares at him as if scrutinising his features.

‘No, not exactly.’

Jesse looks back at his joint and finishes it off. ‘Shame.’

‘What did they want?’ Willow asks.

He assumes she means Steven and Dominic and he is glad she doesn’t call them his friends, his gang or even his ‘old’ friends.’

He sighs and slips the roach into one end. ‘Nothing. You don’t worry about them.’

She nods and he can tell she probably wants to call them pricks or something, but she doesn’t. She sits next to him and hugs her legs.

‘Do you feel safe here? Like the treehouse?’

Jesse looks around and he supposes that he does. Not quite in the same way but there is something about it. He shrugs and nods at the same time.

‘Yeah, sort of, I think so. You?’

‘Same. I wonder if Paddy did something here too, like at the treehouse.’ Willow dangles the bottle of vodka between her knees and gazes at it. ‘God, I miss him.’

‘What would he be doing if he were here, do you think?’ asks Jesse. ‘I mean, if you’d gone missing, or someone else?’

‘Would he be trying to solve it like us, you mean?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah, I think he would. He’d be doing exactly what we’re doing. He’d probably be better at it too.’

Jesse twists the other end of the joint, sticks it between his teeth and lights up. ‘Exactly why we should keep it up,’ he says as he exhales.

‘How’s your back?’

‘It’s better. Margaret put some stuff on it and I dunno, it’s healed pretty quick.’

Willow frowns. ‘Christ Jesse, I have so many questions. And I’ve got something to show you too.’

‘We better wait for the others.’

‘I know. Is this risky for you though?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he replies. ‘She sent me back to school.’ He takes another pull on the joint and holds it for a few moments before exhaling slowly. ‘She hasn’t said I can’t see any of you either. She doesn’t have a ton of rules or anything.’

Willow looks surprised. ‘No?’

‘Nope, just chores. Lots of chores, but I don’t mind them. I’d be bored otherwise.’

Willow lowers her head. ‘We were all so worried about you.’

He nods. ‘Mayfield is the one to worry about. As far as I can tell, Margaret has some sort of hold over him. Over all of them maybe.’

‘She must have had something to do with it though,’ Willow states angrily. ‘Paddy. She did something to him. Our own fucking mayor.’

‘She’s more than a mayor,’ Jesse says as the drug seeps thickly through his body, loosening his joints and unwinding the tension. He rests his head on the mossy rocks behind. ‘She’s the town. She’s the whole goddamn town, Willow.’

‘How do we fight her then? How do we get Paddy back?’

He glances at her and sees her pale face and wide eyes. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he doesn’t think they can. At least not the Paddy she knew. He’s about to try to explain what he thinks Mayfield is when Willow starts again.

‘I think I saw him last night. Paddy. I saw something moving in my back garden from my window so I ran down and I swear I saw a black hare, just like you did. And I just felt, I don’t know, like it was him. Watching over me or something.’

‘Then what happened?’ Jesse asks.

She swallows. ‘There was this piercing howl from nearby and the hare, or whatever it was, it ran off.’

3

Jaime is glad to be walking to the ruins alone. As much as she is desperate to see the others, she can’t bear the thought of having to say it all more than once, so when she spots Ralph pushing his bike up the hill ahead of her, she breathes out in relief. She’s wearing her backpack – filled with the investigation disguised as schoolwork – and she plans to stop by the library on the way back so her excursion is not a total lie. She’s told her mother she’s going for a long ramble first, to take photos for a project and to explore.

It’s been a tense week in The Hare and Hound. Her mother’s pregnancy is exhausting her and although a lot of the staff are doing extra shifts, that has not stopped Mark from watching her almost constantly.

The change in him is palpable and odd. It makes Jaime feel uneasy whenever he’s around because it’s hard to explain or put your finger on. She doesn’t think she’d be able to articulate it enough to form any kind of actual complaint – not that she’d want to upset her mother at the moment anyway – but something has changed and she’s starting to fear that it will never change back.

She shivers just thinking about it. He’s colder, she thinks, and quieter. But it’s not just that. It’s the way he looks at her.

‘Your boyfriend gone without you?’ a voice calls out from behind.

Jaime jerks to a stop and looks over her shoulder. She’s dismayed to see Bryony and Alexa skulking through the trees where Ralph caused the power cut. Jaime glances back at the hill and can’t see him anymore. She smiles weakly as the two girls strut towards her, hands shoved into the pockets of their matching denim jackets.

‘Um no,’ Jaime replies, hoping to put them off following. ‘I’m just going for a walk.’

Alexa jerks her head towards the hill. ‘Saw that chubby Maxwell kid heading up that way. Why are you hanging around him anyway? He’s in the year below!’

Bryony sniggers at this, her brow creased in mock concern as she gives Jaime the usual up and down look.

‘I don’t hang around with him,’ says Jaime, although she has no idea why she should feel the need to explain herself to these two.

‘We’ve seen you, don’t lie,’ sighs Bryony, rolling her eyes. She glances away and fixes her gaze somewhere else, giving Jaime hope that she is getting bored already.

Alexa, however, steps closer. ‘He’s got a crush on you, we reckon.’

Jaime shakes her head and stifles laugher. ‘No, he doesn’t.’

‘He does,’ insists Alexa. ‘We’ve seen him looking at you, haven’t we Bry?’

‘Yeah,’ Bryony says distractedly, still peering into the trees.

‘I suppose you could do worse,’ shrugs Alexa. ‘He’s younger and funny looking but who knows? Maybe he’ll get really hot one day, right?’

Jaime has no idea how to respond so she says nothing, biting her lip and gazing at her shoes. She doesn’t want to let on where she’s going and is considering changing direction just to avoid these two following her. They wouldn’t, would they?

Bryony tugs at Alexa’s arm. ‘Think I just saw the boys heading that way. Come on.’

Jaime breathes out slowly.

Alexa nods at her friend but narrows her eyes at Jaime. ‘Course I know who you really have a crush on, new girl.’

Jaime laughs. It’s an awkward, high-pitched sound that makes her cringe. ‘I don’t… I don’t have a crush on anyone!’

Alexa leans closer and whispers into her ear. ‘Jesse Archer.’

Jaime moves back. She can feel her cheeks flooding with heat and lets her hair fall forward to cover it, but it’s too late, Alexa has seen.

‘Knew it! Bry, I knew it! I said, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah, you said, come on. Let’s catch the boys up.’ Bryony gives Jaime a dirty look before tossing her hair and marching away.

Jaime wonders if that is it. If they have bored of her already, their short attention spans snatched away by the lure of boys. But Alexa leans close one more time.

‘You wouldn’t have a chance in hell, you know that, right?’ She pauses long enough to give Jaime yet another up-down look of disgust, before spinning on her heel and catching up with Bryony.

Jaime wanders away, shaken. She has no idea why Bryony and Alexa target her whenever they can. It’s never physical, never serious, never anything she’d bother telling anyone about. It’s always subtle, she thinks, cruel and icy comments that could be disguised as jokes. She swallows hard, blinks back tears and starts up the hill.

With the sun in her eyes, Jaime is breathless by the time she reaches the ruins. She staggers towards the wall where Ralph has propped his bike and turns the corner to find the three of them crouched around a small fire. Ralph is warming his hands and throws a huge goofy smile her way. Jaime instantly recalls what Alexa said about Ralph and her cheeks flush again. She smiles back but doesn’t make eye contact. Willow is snapping sticks and feeding them to the flames and Jesse seems to be swigging from a bottle of vodka.

‘Hey Jaime!’ he calls out when he sees her. ‘It’s party time!’

Jaime almost wants to run away. Alexa’s words are ringing in her ears and she wonders for a brief second if she should just walk away from all of this and attempt to live normally in this strange town. If Alexa has noticed her crush on Jesse, what if he has too?

They are all looking at her, so she smiles awkwardly and joins them. She pushes Alexa and Bryony away and forces herself to remember why they are all here. Paddy.

‘Where shall we start?’ Willow asks, looking between them all.

Jaime is quick to jump in. ‘Well, I think our main concern was Jesse but seeing as how he’s here and seems fine, I think I’ll go first if that’s okay with everyone?’

They all nod in solemn agreement and sit around the fire facing each other.

‘The floor is yours,’ Jesse offers with a smile.

She smiles back and pulls her backpack round in front of her. ‘The first thing to say is that I went to Maze Lane to visit Iris Cotton but her grand-daughter, Sarah-Jane, shooed me away. She said Iris is very confused and upset and needs her rest. So, that was that, but I have noticed that her son Nathan regularly does this baby singing thing at the library so I was planning on bumping into him by accident and seeing what I can find out.’

‘Good plan.’ Ralph gives her the thumbs up.

She nods in thanks and goes on. ‘So, I’ve been keeping up the investigation and making sure everything goes on the timeline and so on but I’ve had to be careful and hide it, look…’ Jaime unrolls the paper and demonstrates how the Paddy Finnis Disappearance case is hidden safely behind a history project on the Tudors.

Jesse grins his approval. ‘Very nice. Smart thinking.’

‘Brilliant,’ agrees Willow, her eyes darting over it. ‘So, your folks are still watching you like a hawk, are they?’

Jaime rolls it back up. ‘Yes, so I’m having to be very devious. Every time I go to either library I’m hiding books under books and so on. Anyway, this is the real thing I wanted to show you all.’ She takes out a notepad and unfolds a few loose pieces of paper. The others lean forward and she hands them out. ‘I photocopied them at school. I don’t think anyone saw so I was able to put the newspapers back and take these with me. They’re from the national newspapers and a few others. It took a lot of digging and reading and hiding!’ She breathes out wearily as if it tires her to remember it.

‘These are all missing people,’ says Willow, rifling through the papers and looking from hers to Ralph’s, before peering at Jesse’s.

‘Yep,’ confirms Jaime. ‘There’s at least six mentioned in those stories but there could obviously be more.’

Jesse has skim read the page in his hands. ‘They weren’t from town though?’

She shakes her head. ‘Nope, none of them. They all have a few things in common though.’ She counts them off on her fingers. ‘All young-ish, late teens to early twenties at the most. They were all hikers or walking enthusiasts. And they all vanished in this area never to be seen again.’

‘In this area?’ Ralph stares down at his paper quizzically. ‘But this report doesn’t mention the valley.’

‘No, none of them do but I marked them on a map, look.’ Jaime unfolds another piece of paper – a photocopied map of the Dorset Somerset border. She has marked six circles close to their town. ‘The circles show where each person was last seen or heard from. They were in the area but not here, not as far as we know anyway. But don’t you think it’s weird? Two teenagers vanish from the town thirty years apart and in the meantime at least six outsiders have vanished close to town.’ She looks around at their faces, each deep in thought as they re-read the reports. ‘Maybe they came here or walked through or maybe they never made it that far but it’s got to be connected for so many to vanish so close to our town… I’ll keep looking,’ she adds, quickly anxious that they’re not going to see it the way she does. ‘There could be more.’

Jesse passes the bottle to Willow and looks brightly at Jaime. ‘I think you’re right. This has to be connected. And then there’s my mum being missing too, like you said. I’ve been thinking about that.’

She breathes out in pure relief. ‘Okay, and there’s one more thing. I went through a ton of local history stuff. Births, deaths, marriages, local events, that kind of thing and I found out that Iris Cotton is related to Agnes Salter, the original owner of the original Black Hare Cottage. Cotton is her married name.’

There is a collective gasp and Jaime feels herself swell just a little in front of them. ‘Salter the witch?’ asks Jesse. ‘That’s like a local legend. You know, they burned her and her house.’

‘Same house, different woman, different time,’ replies Jaime. ‘Which is why I really do need to talk to Iris if I can.’

‘My mum delivers logs to Maze Lane,’ Ralph says then. ‘To most of the houses there because they all have open fires. I could see when their next delivery is due and I could offer to go along and help… maybe I could find a way to talk to Iris?’

The others nod firmly and Jesse pats his shoulder. ‘Sweet.’

Jaime watches Ralph grow redder as he smiles in response.

‘Good plan,’ she tells him then starts to pack away her work, just in case. ‘Now,’ she says. ‘Jesse, it’s your turn. You must tell us everything!’

Willow holds up a hand. ‘Hey, hang on, can I jump in first? I’ve got to show you something and it affects nearly all of us.’

The others swap glances and then nod warily. ‘What is it?’ Jesse asks.

Willow pulls a small pile of photos from her cloak and hands them to him. ‘Your dad was right, Jesse. Our parents did know each other. My mum’s still being weird and cagey about it all but she did finally dig these out for me.’

Jesse fans the photos out and they all lean over. He instantly points out his father who looks remarkably like him and is posing with a group of teens in Milly’s Café. ‘That’s my dad! And Willow, your mum!’ He points to a dark-haired girl and Willow nods.

‘Recognise anyone else?’

‘Is that my dad?’ breathes Ralph, his eyes wide. ‘Jesus!’

Jesse points to a girl. ‘That’s my mum!’

Jaime takes the photo when he passes it to her. She scans the faces, noting the undeniable similarities between her new friends and their parents. Jesse is already looking at the next photo.

‘My dad again,’ he confirms. ‘Wonder where that was? Looks a bit like the land near The Fort but I dunno. And there’s your mum Willow and your dad again, Ralph. Looks like they were proper friends, doesn’t it?’

‘Or maybe they weren’t but they were drawn together by a missing person, just like us?’ Jaime suggests with a shrug. She takes the photo from Jesse. ‘They all look so sad here.’

Jesse is scrutinising the final photo. ‘My mum and your mum again,’ he says to Willow.

She leans closer and presses a finger against the May Queen. ‘I think that’s your aunt, Jesse. That’s Carol-Anne. Look at her face and your mum’s face. Don’t you think that could be her?’

‘I’ll have to ask my dad.’ Jesse holds it up, lost for a moment as he stares into a past he never knew existed. ‘But yeah, they look alike, don’t they?’

‘None of them want to talk about it,’ says Willow, pulling up her legs and wrapping her arms around them. ‘I’ll try but I don’t think I’ll get much more out of my mum.’

‘My mum didn’t know much,’ adds Ralph. ‘She said my dad was older than her and when she met him he wasn’t hanging around with anyone.’

‘What can it mean?’ asks Jaime. ‘All I can think is Carol-Anne went missing just like Paddy and your parents tried to find her but for some reason, don’t remember? Or don’t want to talk about it?’

‘It might not mean much at all,’ sighs Jesse, passing the last photo to Jaime, who is now holding all three. ‘What we do know is this. I had an aunt that went missing and that, I dunno, affected my mum, I guess, made her crazy, my dad said. Eventually she couldn’t cope with it all and ran off. No one ever talks about any of it. I mean, I guess I could try and show him these, see if it gets him talking?’

Jaime promptly hands them back.

‘Take them,’ nods Willow. ‘Show him if you get the chance. Now, come on. Your turn.’

4

Ralph sits with his legs crossed the way they make you during school assembly. He’s wearing cargo trousers that are smeared with dirt and grass stains from a morning gardening for Eugenie Spires. He feels lucky that he got away when he did – he had a feeling as soon as he was done his mother would ship him off to Mayor Sumner’s for more work, but she was taking a long bubble bath and reading a novel. She said they’d both worked hard all week so deserved a break. She gave him her blessing to meet his friends and didn’t ask where.

Ralph squirms now with doubt and fear. Maybe he should have lied. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the others. But his mother trusts him and it seems Mayor Sumner has also placed a certain amount of trust in Jesse.

‘From the beginning!’ Jaime is urging. ‘From when they drove you off!’

Jesse sits with his knees up and his elbows resting loosely on them. He looks cleaner and brighter than normal and his clothes are washed and uncrumpled. He’s wearing dark jeans, black boots and a checked flannel shirt over a black t-shirt. His nails are clean and his hair is brushed: it would appear that the mayor is being a good foster parent so far.

He lowers his head slightly but keeps his eyes on them as he speaks. Ralph attempts to read the expression on his face and the closest he can get is that Jesse looks fierce.

‘Okay. When we got to the mayor’s house, something really weird happened. Something scary. It was really fucking scary.’ He stares at them each in turn as if keen to impress this upon them. ‘It was the worst bit but I swear since then, nothing else has happened and it’s just been… I dunno, weirdly okay. I’m still getting used to having a room all to myself and three decent meals but every time I think about what happened first I feel sick and shaky. So, I’ll tell you.’ He glances around again, his eyes narrow and suspicious as if he fears they are being spied on. ‘Even if it messes things up for me,’ he adds.

They wait, breath held. Ralph’s hands are on his knees and he can feel his fingers slowly curling, digging in, holding on. Jesse clears his throat.

‘Inside her kitchen is this big larder, one of those walk-in things, like a whole extra room full of food.’ He swallows. ‘And they took me straight in there, still handcuffed, and there was this other door at the back which led down to some sort of cellar, I guess, under the house. It was dark until they lit a lantern but it was weird too, like there was this weird energy.’ He pauses for a moment, swallowing again and focusing on the ground. His expression is intense, as if he is conjuring the images in his head. ‘It was like it felt alive down there, like it was electric or something. I’ve never felt anything like it. There was a really terrible smell too, really strong. I’m still not sure what it was but…’ He stops again, wrinkling his nose and licking his lips at the memory.

‘What sort of smell?’ Willow asks softly.

‘I don’t know…’ Jesse lifts his head, gazes at the sky above them. ‘Sort of hot and like something old and rotten but a bit like something awful had been cooked or boiled. It was just horrible. Anyway, it was cold too and I could see mist around my feet like I did when I tried to run away. And yeah, just the energy, guys… All my hairs stood on end and I had goosebumps all over! Margaret said it was the ley lines. You guys ever heard of them?’

Willow nods instantly. ‘Sure. Not everyone believes in them but they’re meant to be ancient lines crisscrossing the country. Maybe due to trade or to reach sacred monuments but no one knows for sure. You can’t see them.’

He nods at her. ‘She seemed to believe all right. She said several ley lines converged in the cellar where we were standing and that made the energy so strong there. I couldn’t see too well because of the shadows but I looked around and I could see little rooms, like cells.’ He swallows again and scratches quickly at the back of his neck.

The others swap looks. Willow reacts by drinking more vodka then passing the bottle to Jaime, who almost passes it on, then stops, shrugs and takes a tiny sip, before making a face and giving it to Ralph.

‘Cells?’ Willow is the only one brave enough to prompt him.

His eyes are fixed on the fire. ‘Maybe. I could see bars anyway and I thought, I mean I can’t be sure because it was so dark and I was so shit scared by this point, thinking they were literally about to murder me, so I don’t know, but I thought I saw something in one of those little rooms. I thought I saw bones. Like, this little pile of bones.’

‘Animal bones?’ Ralph asks in a voice that comes out far too high. He coughs and feels his face grow red.

‘Maybe,’ Jesse replies quickly, with a half-smile. He shakes himself. ‘Anyway, the whole thing was a warning. They wanted to show me my options, they said. I couldn’t leave town, they said, or I’d end up down there and when I said, do you mean dead? They laughed and said it’s not death exactly, it’s more like a rebirth.’ Jesse moves his knees together and hugs them. He’s shivering.

‘Jesus…’ Willow murmurs, glancing away.

Ralph gazes into the bottle of vodka then slowly lifts it to his lips. He lets a small amount drip down his throat and winces at the burn.

‘They joked,’ Jesse says in a low voice, ‘about what they could turn me into.’

Willow sits up straighter. ‘Shit.’

‘Then that was it. They told me not to ask any questions and took me back to the kitchen and Margaret made Mayfield leave, so he did. It’s like she has power over him.’

‘Rebirth…’ whisper Willow as Ralph passes the bottle to Jesse. She’s sitting cross-legged with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. ‘What if it’s possible? Say it’s possible. They were threatening to do to you what they must have done to Paddy.’ She looks up right at Jesse. ‘And a black hare helped you, took you to the treehouse and I saw it last night.’ She stares pointedly at the others. ‘I saw it in my garden. Then there was this awful howl nearby and it took off. I felt like it was Paddy. Like he was trying to tell me something.’

Jaime sputters and holds up a hand. ‘Wait. Wait.’

‘It’s got to be!’ Willow goes on, her voice rising. ‘Don’t you see? You must be able to see? It all makes sense. Mayfield, he can turn into something; a wolf or something, something that clawed at Jesse’s back. And, and Iris! The white hare, Jaime! We both saw her and then her house burned down again and… and… she was on the committee and she left the book for Paddy, see?’ She unfolds her arms and claps her hands together, making them all jump. Her face is flushed with excitement. ‘Oh my god, oh my fucking god! They’re witches or something! They’re monsters and they’re doing all this! The missing people! Jaime?’ Willow leans forward to grab her hand. ‘You must be able to see!’

Jaime is shaking her head as she slowly withdraws her hand. ‘No, no, wait. I mean, wait. What are you actually saying?’

Willow leans closer to her. ‘That there is something very wrong here. It’s not just abduction or murder, it’s more than that, it’s whatever powers these people have got… I just can’t…’ Willow bites her lip, frowning deeply, shaking her head until finally she drops it into one hand. ‘Oh, Paddy. Poor Paddy. What did they do to him? We have to find him and help him!’

Ralph sits in silence. Thoughts pop in and out of his head in split seconds, bouncing around and refusing to connect. There is a tense silence between them where he finds it almost impossible to lift his head and look at them all. When he does, he sees intense excitement, fear and anger splashed across Willow’s tightened features. Jesse appears to be the calmest but Ralph supposes he’s known the darkness surrounding them for the longest. Ralph gets the feeling there is still a lot Jesse holds back until he feels they are ready to catch up. As for Jaime, she’s shocked and white and staring at the flames as if she hopes to find an answer there,

‘Wait,’ she says again, waving one hand limply. ‘Just hang on. None of this can be real.’ She finally looks at Willow and Ralph can see tears in her eyes. ‘Can it?’

5

Willow takes both of her hands and squeezes them. She’s wired with adrenalin but looks at Jaime with nothing but pity. She can’t really get her head around it either but everything adds up and she can’t escape it or deny it. It’s not just everything she said or everything Jesse has relayed or Jaime has discovered; it’s more than that. It’s the dull throb of absolute certainty she felt when she saw the hare. She knows it was Paddy.

‘It’s okay,’ she tries to tell Jaime. ‘It’s okay.’

Jaime just keeps shaking her head. She’s blinking back tears but one escapes and rolls down her cheek. Willow can see the turmoil unfolding inside of her. She slips an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close.

‘Come on, let’s leave it for now. What else can we do about it right now anyway?’

Jaime is silent. Jesse cheers and passes on the bottle.

‘Exactly,’ he says. ‘I say let’s have some fun. Let’s muck about for a while. I think we need it.’ He uses the wall to help him to his feet then stares at them, grinning.

‘But a plan,’ Jaime looks up at him. ‘We still need a plan.’

‘Let us know when you think of one,’ Jesse replies and holds a hand out to her.

Willow knows Jaime will take it and she does, a shy smile breaking out on her face as she reaches up tentatively and is pulled to her feet by Jesse’s tug.

‘Come on,’ Jesse says, pulling Jaime with him and snatching up Willow’s hand too. ‘There’s something I like to do.’

They follow him to the other side, where beyond the higher walls, the outskirts of the valley roll away before them. They can almost feel the earth rolling gently under their feet in an ever undulating wave towards the glistening river.

Jesse breaks free and lies down on the grass with his arms wrapped around his body. ‘Follow me!’ he yells and before anyone can question, he is off, rolling rapidly down the hill, bumping and spinning over grassy slopes and hillocks.

‘He’ll kill himself!’ Jaime gasps, but Willow is already lying down, compelled by the urge to be moving along with the land, to be part of it and to not lose Jesse. She feels drawn to his still rolling figure, bellowing laughter as he goes.

She pushes off and feels herself flying. Her bones thud and jar but every now and then she is in the air, weightless, and the world is turning over her again and again, blue then green, then blue, then green then suddenly she slows and rolls to a stop. The land rises up, creating a ridge – a protective barrier saving them at the last moment from an icy drench in the river,

Willow looks for Jesse and finds him sitting further along, rubbing his shoulders and grinning wildly.

‘That was amazing!’ she tells him breathlessly. ‘That was terrifying!’

‘I know!’ He looks back up the hill and they watch Ralph, then Jaime start to roll. They seem to be rolling impossibly fast, just blurs of colour plummeting towards them and then, just when it seems they will crash into them and shatter their bones, they start to slow, eventually rolling slowly up against the ridge before finally stopping.

They sit up, wincing and laughing and checking their limbs for damage. Willow laughs and drops back in the grass. She feels something she has not felt since Paddy vanished. She feels love. And hope.


Thanks for reading!

Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this latest chapter.

NOTE: Please remember this is NOT the finished version of Black Hare Valley Book 1. This book has not been to my editor yet or even my beta readers. There will be typos, grammatical mistakes, and sentences that need rewriting.

COMING NEXT THURSDAY: Chapter Twenty-Three “The Raven”

Black Hare Valley: Chapter Fifteen “Hideout”

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© 2025 Chantelle Atkins. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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When there is no sign of Jesse Archer by sunrise, Aaron Mayfield shines his torch into Billy Archer’s cell and rattles the keys in the lock. The eldest Archer, who looks like an older version of Jesse and a male version of their missing mother, rises from the bench, yawning widely.

Mayfield swings the door open and waits, watching him in a guarded, measured way. Billy approaches cautiously, rubbing at his bare arms as he keeps his eyes on Mayfield. Mayfield steps back to allow him out, then he lifts his baton and wedges the rounded end under Billy’s chin, forcing his head back. The older Archer remains calm and still, licks his lips once and waits.

Mayfield smiles slowly. ‘I can’t find Jesse,’ he says with his head tilted.

Billy keeps his eyes on Mayfield. ‘Good.’

The policeman’s lip rises in a sneer. ‘I arrested him last night. Caught him in my house and I think he caused the power cut. They’re just fixing it now.’

‘If you arrested him, how can you not know where he is?’

‘The mayor intervened,’ Mayfield tells him, eyebrows raised. ‘Wants to foster him, see, and get him away from bad influences.’ He looks Billy up and down slowly. ‘She decided to uncuff him and he legged it. Now it seems like we have two missing boys.’

‘And at least one is your fault.’

Mayfield lowers the baton but pushes it into his chest. ‘I’ll find him, but if you happen to come across him first, you bring him to me, you hear?’

Billy winks at him. ‘Of course, Sergeant. Whatever you say.’

Mayfield’s smile grows a little wider. ‘She wants to give him a second chance,’ he goes on. ‘Sees something in him, maybe. Not me though. I see the same outcome I’m looking at right now. Criminal scumbag who contributes nothing to this town. But sharp…’ His forehead creases with a thoughtful frown as he presses the baton harder. ‘I’ll give you that, Archer. You and Jesse – like your mum, eh? While Wyatt is a slow and lumbering useless beast just like your father tuned into, isn’t that right?’

‘Whatever you say.’ Billy smiles right back at him.

He waits, their eyes loaded, then finally Mayfield lowers the baton and jerks his head to the corridor behind him. ‘Get out of my sight, Archer.’

Billy exhales, ducks his head and leaves.

2

When Jesse wakes up with a shaft of sunlight warming his face, he opens his eyes then wishes he hadn’t. His head contracts in pain, his scalp tightening as the head wound picks up a steady throb. He wraps the blanket around himself and then realises that someone knows he is here…

There is a pile of items placed on the edge next to the rope ladder. He lifts his aching head, blinking his eyes into focus. A flask, a bottle of water, a box of cheese flavoured crackers, half a packet of chocolate Digestives, a banana and an apple. He’s frozen in fear just staring at them. His first thought is, the hare?

And then, Mayfield?

But just then a head appears behind the food and a concerned bespectacled face is staring back at him. Jesse breathes out slowly. Mr Finnis. His thin black hair is uncombed and sticking up at the back. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and there are dark circles under his eyes.

Paddy’s father comes up a few steps higher on the ladder, then perches on the platform with his legs dangling.

‘I came by earlier,’ he says with a sad smile. ‘It was weird actually. Something woke me in the night and I don’t know what, but I couldn’t go back to sleep. Then around three-ish, I had the urge to check out here, just in case.’ He shakes his head a little. ‘I don’t know. I don’t sleep well since Paddy disappeared. Anyway, imagine my surprise when I found you up here. Dead to the world, you were.’ He looks at Jesse with a wince. ‘And obviously in trouble.’

Jesse pulls his knees up and hugs them to his chest. Every movement is a reminder of the running, falling, stumbling and hurting of the night before. His gashed knee burns and throbs, his head aches horribly and his shoulder feels bruised and sore. Every muscle in his body aches from the endless running. He gives a small nod in response to Mr Finnis’s enquiring gaze.

He nods in understanding. ‘You’ve been hurt. Been in a fight maybe. Your father?’

He shakes his head quickly. ‘No.’

‘Brothers then?’

‘No.’

‘Other kids?’

‘No.’

He sees Mr Finnis frowning at him before he asks, ‘Something you can’t tell me?’

Jesse nods.

‘Okay, okay.’ Mr Finnis takes something from his pocket and passes it to Jesse. It’s a packet of painkillers. ‘You look like you need them. You can stay here as long as you like, Jesse. You’re safe here. I won’t say anything to anyone.’

Relief floods him and tears invade his eyes. ‘Thank you.’

Mr Finnis looks at the pile of food with a sigh. ‘I’ll bring some more later. And more blankets. You’re welcome to come inside at any time. You can use Paddy’s room, if you like. I know he won’t mind.’ He meets Jesse’s eye and receives another nod. Mr Finnis pats the wooden floor affectionately. ‘But you’re safe here. I am sure of that.’

He looks up then as a series of lights flash on in the flat and in the shops further on.

‘Oh, look at that. Power’s back on.’ He looks back at Jesse. ‘It’s only been a week, you know, but it feels so much longer.’ He drifts off for a moment, his hand still on the platform, trembling slightly as his eyes glaze over. ‘And I can’t sleep. I find it hard to do anything because every time I do anything, I feel guilty, like I should be looking for him. And I feel like I let him down. And his mother.’ His voice has dropped to a whisper. ‘She asked me to take care of him, she trusted me to.’ He smiles sadly. ‘But he was just in bed, you know? He wasn’t out on a motorbike or in an alley doing drugs. He was just in bed.’ Mr Finnis places his hand in his lap and breathes out. ‘I think there is still hope though, don’t you? I’m going to put new posters up today. See if it might jog people’s memories. I keep circling the town. Round and round I go looking for any sign of him.’

‘There’s still hope,’ Jesse speaks up and when Mr Finnis looks at him he almost wishes he could take it back; there is such grasping, helpless desperation in the poor man’s eyes. Jesse can feel how much he wants it to be true, something concrete to hang onto. Jesse looks down. ‘I just mean, this might sound weird, but I think I can feel him… When I was in trouble last night, Mr Finnis, I felt like…’ He stops, wipes his eyes and shrugs with a self-conscious smile.

‘I do know what you mean,’ Mr Finnis whispers back. ‘Like me feeling the urge to come out here and check?’

‘Yeah, maybe.’

Mr Finnis looks a little happier. He lowers himself carefully over the edge. ‘I won’t tell anyone,’ he says again.

Jesse leans forward. ‘Willow, Jaime and Ralph?’

‘I can tell them?’

‘Yes.’ Jesse nods. ‘You can tell them.’

3

Ralph arrives first, pushing his bike because he has agreed to meet his mother at the new house at twelve now that it has been cleared out for her. She set off already to meet the mayor there at ten. Ralph props his bike against a broken wall and crouches, picking a stem of dark green grass to shred while he waits for the others.

For some reason, he expected Jesse to be here already, maybe smoking one of those funny cigarettes again, or drinking whisky. Ralph smiles a little wistfully at the thought. He feels a little embarrassed of the way he sees Jesse Archer, but he can’t help it. He’s two years older, taller, better looking, smart, brave and as tough as nails. Sure, he used to be a bit of a bully to kids like Ralph but now that Ralph has had a few glimpses of Jesse’s home life, he can understand why.

He crouches in the long grass, staring down the rolling hills at Black Hare Valley. He can see all the little houses and the roads look like black snakes coiled around them. He thinks of hanging out with Paddy a week ago and his chest suddenly feels tight. And then he thinks about what they did. He feels a nervous fizzing excitement in his belly like butterflies, as he recalls his part in it all.

He remembers the thick bark of the bough between his clenched thighs and the heaviness of the chainsaw as he reached for the branch above. He pictures the sudden solid blackness crushing the town and swallows nervously.

The power is back on. His mother said she didn’t know what had caused it and she hadn’t seemed that interested either. She was far too focused on the new house, on new starts and possibilities. Ralph is happy for her; he knows how much it means to her, but he can’t help feeling guarded. The new house does not offer the same safe feeling to him. He supposes how he feels about the mayor’s cottage depends very much on the book and what is in it, and how much Mayor Sumner might know about Sergeant Mayfield and the missing Paddy Finnis.

Ralph breathes out in relief when he spots Jaime and Willow climbing the hill below him. Willow is wearing her long black cloak again, which he thinks makes her look like a superhero and Jaime looks sensible and determined in blue jeans, walking boots and a raincoat. She has her backpack on and Ralph wonders what new information she will be able to add to her notes now.

They meet him with tight hugs and gasps of relief and Ralph is momentarily shocked into a flustered silence. He wasn’t expecting hugs but he supposes they have been through something quite life-changing together. For a moment they are linked in a circle, arms and shoulders touching, grinning, and it feels good.

Then Jaime scans the area, wiping her hair from her face. ‘Where’s Jesse?’

Ralph shrugs. ‘Not here yet.’

They swap an uneasy look. ‘Do we do this without him or what?’ asks Willow.

Ralph squirms, restlessly. ‘I’ve just got to see the pictures though! I’ve just got to!’

‘Okay,’ nods Willow, looking around one last time before motioning for them all to sit.

She sits between them and they face the town in a line. It’s a clear sunny day but the air is cold and thin. Ralph tugs his denim jacket tighter around himself and wishes that he had worn jeans and not shorts.

Willow seems both sad and nervous as she takes out the photos she took last night.

‘Was it definitely the same book?’ asks Jaime.

Willow nods at her. ‘I’d say so. Everything about it was the same. The only trouble is, none of it makes any sense. Look.’ She holds out the photos and the other two crane their necks over them as she slowly flicks through.

Ralph can see a lot of drawings and designs and patterns, none of which mean anything to him and there are words too, but he can’t make anything out.

Jaime is peering closer. ‘Could that be Latin?’

‘I think so,’ says Willow. ‘But how can we check? We can’t exactly ask anyone, can we?’

Jaime sits back, chewing her lip and frowning. ‘We’ll have to try the library and the school one too, see if we can find something to translate it.’

The others nod and Ralph wracks his brain to try and think of anyone he knows who might have a knowledge of Latin.

Jaime looks at them, still with that intense frown on her face. He’s come to recognise it as he feels hopeful whenever he sees it.

‘We’ll try,’ she says with certainty, ‘but we’ll need to write out little bits onto other paper, Willow, in case we lose the photos or they get damaged.’

‘I’ve started already.’ She digs into her pocket and pulls out a small notebook. ‘Here. That’s what I’ve copied so far.’

‘Brilliant!’ Jaime takes it, smiling. ‘And what we also need to figure out is how the hell that book got there.’ She eyes them both seriously. ‘Because whoever put it there must know something too.’

‘Maybe they wanted Paddy to find it?’ wonders Ralph. ‘But who?’

Jaime and Willow lock eyes. ‘Iris Cotton,’ they sat at the same time, then nod.

‘Why?’ asks Ralph. ‘Because Mayfield wanted Jesse to spy on her? And where the hell is he anyway?’

Willow gazes away in concern. ‘I don’t know…’

‘Iris Cotton is a recluse of sorts,’ says Jaime. ‘And yes, Mayfield also had a camera planted there just like he did at the bookshop, so that connects her to Paddy in one way. What do we do? Try and talk to her?’

No one answers. But Willow looks nervous. She suddenly grips Ralph’s arm and Jaime’s knee.

‘What?’ gasps Ralph. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m worried about Jesse.’

‘Why? He’s okay, isn’t he?’

‘I don’t know, I mean, yes, he should be, but I don’t know! I don’t know for sure. I gave him the book and he told me to run. Mayfield was in the station with his brother, so he was close.’

Now Ralph gets it. And he suddenly wonders why the hell they are all still sat there like idiots. He jumps up first.

‘You didn’t actually see him get out? You didn’t wait?’

Willow jumps up too. ‘He told me to go! He made me!’

‘Come on,’ Jaime is on her feet, shoving Willow’s notebook into her bag. ‘We better go and check on him.’

‘Shit…’ Willow moans.

‘Come on!’ yells Ralph, snatching up his bike. He feels impatient suddenly, breathless and frustrated. He can’t help thinking, why the hell didn’t Willow wait for Jesse?

4

Together, the three of them run back to town. It’s much faster than going up, but it’s dangerous too. The hills are steep in places and remnants of the ruins like to surprise with chalky white chunks poking up from the earth to trip you.

Jaime runs as fast as she can which is far slower than the other two. Willow is out in front, tearing down the hill, veering left towards the woods where Ralph caused the power cut. Ralph is just behind her, bumping along on his bike. Jaime feels her knees jarring with every pounding step and fears the momentum of the incline will send her head over heels at any second. She imagines the absurdity of her rolling down the hill and landing in an ungainly heap at the bottom. Then she tortures herself further by picturing Jesse stood over her and she blushes violently.

She pushes the embarrassing image away and does her best to keep up. They run through the small dense words and tear out onto Taylor Drive. Jaime has to slow down – she can barely breathe and she plods heroically after Ralph and Willow who are moving with dignified purpose towards Jesse’s block of flats.

It’s Jaime who notices the other figure first – tall, slim, in a ripped shirt and scruffy jeans, walking fast in the same direction. Jesse’s brother, she remembers, the one Mayfield arrested last night. She waves at Willow and Ralph to get their attention, then slows to let Billy catch them up.

He doesn’t pay much attention at first – she supposes they’ve never been introduced. He probably has no clue what the four of them have been up to since Paddy went missing, but regardless, she smiles nervously and waves at him.

Billy frowns back, then, noticing Ralph and Willow, he seems to connect the dots in his head.

‘Hey,’ he says roughly. ‘You lot seen Jesse?’

‘No, we were supposed to meet him but he didn’t show up,’ Jaime replies and the four of them fall into step together and continue towards the flats.

‘Do you know where he is?’ Willow asks Billy.

He shakes his head and shoves open the bottom door. ‘Nope, but I’m hoping he’s in here.’

They follow Billy up the steps and towards the flat at the end of one corridor. It’s narrow, dark and covered in graffiti. Billy unlocks the door and strides in, yelling, ‘Jesse? Jess!’

There is no reply. Jaime, Ralph and Willow hover in the small hallway, unsure what to do, while Billy checks each room. The other brother, Wyatt, is evidently asleep in their room as they all hear a yelp and a groan, followed by Billy demanding, ‘Jesse here? You seen him?’ Then yelling impatiently, ‘Wyatt!’

‘No,’ the other boy replies groggily. ‘He’s not here. Haven’t seen him.’

Billy comes back, hands in hair. He stalks over to the sofa, a nasty yellow thing covered in stains. From the hall, Jaime can’t see the figure Billy is shaking but she assumes from the smell and the farts that it is not Jesse.

‘Dad! Dad, you seen Jesse? Has Jesse been home?’

When there is no intelligible reply, Billy gives up and walks away in disgust. He stands in front of them and Jaime feels herself blushing again. He really is handsome, she thinks helplessly, an older, rougher version of Jesse.

‘Okay, you guys better talk. I need to find Jesse. Now.’

‘Us too,’ croaks Willow nervously. ‘He didn’t show up as planned at the ruins.’

Billy eyes them sternly. ‘You guys messed with Mayfield, didn’t you?’ When none of them answer, he steps closer, his head low, his dark angry eyes burning into theirs. ‘I’m not kidding around here. I know you’ve done something. Jesse asked me to pull that stunt in the pub last night. Now, you better tell me what the hell that was about! The power cut! Was that it? What the fuck did you kids do?’

‘It’s complicated…’ Jaime offers, grimacing.

Ralph nods. ‘It’s to do with Paddy.’

Billy straightens up. ‘Yeah?’ They all nod. He narrows his eyes. ‘Listen, I’ve just spent the night in a cell and when Mayfield let me out he said he was looking for Jesse. He said he arrested him last night but the mayor uncuffed him and he got away…’ He eyes them again, watching as their faces pale and their eyes widen. He scratches at his chin. ‘Mayfield wants him bad, you understand? And you swear you guys don’t know where he is?’

They shake their heads. ‘But we’ll find him!’ insists Willow.

‘We’ll warn him!’ adds Jaime.

Billy stares at them all a moment longer. Jaime can tell he wants to ask more but suddenly there is a violent retching sound from behind and a heavy thud as the figure rolls from the sofa. Billy rolls his eyes in despair.

‘Fucks sake! Go then,’ he snaps at them. ‘Find him and keep him safe. Whatever you do, don’t let that psycho catch up with him!’

‘We won’t!’ they cry in unison, before turning and scurrying back out of the flat.

5

Outside the flats, Willow opens her mouth to breathe again and bumps straight into someone’s hard chest. She hears two stifled yelps behind her and knows it must be Mayfield. In dread, she lifts her eyes, her gaze going up and up as if the man goes on forever. He does seem impossibly tall and broad and horribly real on such a dazzling sun-soaked day. He has reared up like an ugly building, she thinks, like a statue, immovable, made of stone.

He is in uniform, one hand resting on the top of his baton. He is wearing sunglasses and lifts his other hand, pushing them up on the top of thick white hair. His blue eyes are sharp and cold. He does not look happy.

‘Well now,’ he says, his voice a sudden boom, a clap of thunder in the still air. They all flinch. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’ His gaze travels slowly over each of them. They are silent, waiting. ‘I’m looking for Jesse Archer. He absconded from custody last night. Have you seen him?’

They shake their heads quickly. His eyes narrow. He licks his lips slowly. ‘You better not be lying to me.’

Willow shakes her head a second time, firmer. She takes a breath. ‘We’re not. We’re looking for him too.’

‘Well then,’ he smiles, leaning closer. ‘If you find him, you know what to do, don’t you?’

Willow swallows and nods.

He straightens up. ‘He’s in serious trouble. Don’t let him make it even worse.’ He pauses to stare at each of them in turn, before walking around them and towards the flats.

Willow reaches for Jaime’s shoulder, breathing hard. ‘Oh my fucking God…’

Jaime slips an arm around her waist. ‘Come on. We’ve got to go.’

They don’t say another word. Ralph gets on his bike and the two girls hurry along beside him.

6

Jesse wakes with a start, a violent twitch jerking his body awake, the remnants of a dark breathless chase still snaring his breath in his throat. He coughs to clear it, then inhales deeply as he sits and rests against the sturdy treehouse walls. He closes his eyes, breathing fast, sending oxygen through his body to calm it down. He has no idea what time it is. The sun is high in the sky, dappled light dazzling his eyes as he opens them to look up. He feels safe, despite the dream, cocooned.

Jesse stares around at his safe haven. He wonders why Mayfield has not come for him yet. He hopes Billy is okay, and the others. And suddenly, his head is full of questions he desperately wants the answers to. What was in the book? Have they met up yet? Have they figured anything out? Are they any closer to finding Paddy?

‘Paddy…’ he whispers to himself, to the treehouse. He can feel him here; it’s impossible not to. Paddy’s place, his hideout, his den. Jesse sees signs of him everywhere. The binoculars, the telescope, the bird spotting books, the books about stars and planets, the posters, the blankets, the sweet wrappers and the smell.

He smiles gently. The first time he climbed up here he felt something new. He felt welcomed and wanted and safe. He didn’t have to fight or steal, or lie or cheat. He didn’t have to act tough or try to impress anyone. He didn’t have to be an Archer, destined to fail, disappoint and intimidate. He could just be. Paddy let him, he remembers now, Paddy was the only one who just let him be.

Didn’t ask anything of him. Didn’t judge or expect. After everything, Paddy just let him be. And there had been this comforting, soothing silence between them. The silence of being, Jesse wonders now, of just existing.

It helps him now: the wooden planks nailed securely under him; the mismatched slats surrounding him which have been sawed and hammered lovingly into place. Jesse smiles as he imagines Paddy and Mr Finnis on their knees, nails in place, putting it together.

His smile fades. He fears for Paddy and for Mr Finnis. His stomach lurches hard and fast so he clutches at is uselessly as the frantic memories come hurtling back. The never-ending dark, the freezing mist with a mind of its own beating him back, containing him, confusing his sense of direction.

‘They don’t want me to leave…’ he says softly, to himself, to the treehouse, to Paddy.

A solemn sadness cloaks him, pulling his shoulders down. He curls protectively over his knees.

The voice… Who was it? At the time he hadn’t been sure; it just felt like a disembodied voice but now he wonders if it had sounded a bit like the mayor… That crisp, sharp, authoritative tone… the slight hint of amusement.

Jesse shudders and drags the blankets up to his chin. He doesn’t dare think of what would have happened if he had allowed them to get him into her car… But he also wonders, would it have led him to Paddy? Maybe he should have been braver. He gulps, grits his teeth. But he’d been so overtaken by fear. Mayfield – that roar. The footsteps in the wood, the breathing. Now he knows he didn’t imagine it before. Mayfield is not a man.

He hears a sound. Freezes.

The conservatory door has creaked open.

Jesse waits. A mop of soft black hair appears at the top of the rope. Mr Finnis. He smiles in relief and plants a pile of clean clothes on the floor.

‘You’re a lot taller,’ he says. ‘But they’ll do for now.’ Then he pulls up a carrier bag and plonks it next to the clothes. ‘Early lunch. Thought you could do with getting some strength back.’ Mr Finnis is smiling at him. His glasses have dipped down onto his nose. ‘It’s okay. You are safe here.’

Jesse smiles back. He believes him. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. And also,’ he grins and glances down. ‘You’ve got some visitors.’

Mr Finnis winks at him then climbs back down. Jesse waits, frowning, then gasps when Willow scrambles up the rope in less than a second, crosses the floor and envelopes him in a hug. Ralph and Jaime follow, cocooning him in warm arms, clasped hands, smiling faces. Jesse is still unable to process how to respond to the embrace. He can’t remember the last time he was hugged by anyone.

He feels their hearts, their breaths, their pulse. And he allows himself to relax into them. It’s Willow who pulls back first, smoothing her loose black hair behind her elfin ears. She looks sorry, hands resting on her skinny knees.

‘What happened, Jesse?’

Jaime and Ralph sit back. Jesse instantly misses the contact that had him frozen in shock. He wraps his arms around himself instead, reluctant to speak of the horrors of the night.

He shivers, then can’t stop. The blankets are not enough. He can still feel that murky, knowing mist circling his legs, holding him still.

‘Are you all right?’ whispers Jaime.

He nods at her. ‘Is Billy?’

‘Yes,’ they all say at the same time.

‘We just saw him,’ Willow clarifies. ‘He’s home. He wants you to hide from Mayfield.’ Willow’s voice drops lower. ‘He told us to keep you safe.’

Ralph nods solemnly. ‘And it worked, Jesse, the plan worked. We’ve got photos and there’s a strange language but we’re going to translate it all. So, you did it, Jesse.’

He nods in reply, a small smile fading in and out.

‘But what happened?’ Willow asks again. ‘Did they catch you? Mayfield said you escaped custody.’

Jesse stares at his knees, his heart racing. ‘Mayfield caught me. He knocked me out and when I woke up I was cuffed and Mr Hewlett was there. He was nice, he… he mopped up my head and he seemed annoyed at Mayfield. Then he called the mayor over and she was going to take me to hers.’

What?’ gasps Jaime, leaning closer.

He nods again. ‘They want me in their care, they said. A second chance, they kept going on about. But I got away, outside, I got away and I ran.’ He pauses, chewing at the inside of his mouth.

Jaime shifts even closer, slipping her arm gently around his shoulders. ‘Oh Jesse…’

Jesse swallows. ‘I ran and ran. But everywhere I ran I couldn’t get through. There was this thick mist and it tricked me and I ended up at the river and then on the other side. I just kept running. I even tried the Holloway, but it wouldn’t let me out, and I think, I think they were there…’

Ralph frowns, his face pale. ‘Who was there?’

‘Mayfield and… I don’t know, maybe the mayor too. Chasing me, and laughing at me and calling my name over and over. And I couldn’t see anything until…’ He stops again, suddenly strengthened by the image of the hare in his mind. He shuffles closes, his head up. ‘Then I saw a black shape moving in the mist. It was the only thing I could really see, so I started following it and it led me right here. Right across town, I mean, at one point I was up at the ruins, then in the Holloway, but it led me here. Right here.’

Jaime sits back, staring at Ralph and Willow, blinking in confusion. ‘Oh my God…’

Jesse licks his lips. ‘I swear… I know this sounds crazy, but I felt, I swear, I felt like it was Paddy. But it was a black hare. Once I was here I could see it, and it was a goddamn black hare…’

‘But…’ Jaime rubs at her face, frowning. ‘But how can…?’

‘It’s all connected,’ Willow interjects breathlessly. ‘Think about it! Mayfield spying on people. Someone planting the book in Paddy’s shop, like they wanted him to find it! And that book being so important he keeps it secret, then it vanishes the same time he does, but turns up in Mayfield’s house! And they’re all involved. The committee. All of them!’

‘Involved in what though?’ asks Ralph, miserably. ‘In taking kids?’

‘Something like that,’ Jesse tells him with certainty. ‘Paddy is gone because of them. They’re not human, guys. Mayfield roared when he caught me. He roared like an animal! Like nothing human, I swear to you!’ He looks between them, desperate for them to believe.

‘We just have to translate the book,’ Jaime says with a heavy sigh. She slaps her hands onto her knees and looks around at them. ‘That’s what we have to do next. It’s got to be the answer.’

‘But what about Jesse?’ asks Ralph. ‘They’re looking for him.’

Willow shakes her head, her expression troubled. ‘I think Mr Finnis was right. He is safe here. The hare… it led him here. Maybe it was Paddy, somehow, shit, I don’t know how! But Jesse is safe here, I’m sure of it. I can feel it. I don’t know why but I can.’

Jesse meets her eye and nods firmly. ‘Me too.’

‘We’ll keep quiet,’ says Ralph. ‘Keep you a secret here.’

‘Thanks,’ says Jesse. ‘Now, you need a plan for that book.’

7

‘I can’t believe it’s been a whole week.’ Willow sits on the edge of the platform, her legs dangling into the garden below. Like Jesse, she feels both sadness and relief in the treehouse. She feels protected; though she has no idea why, but she also feels achingly sad. ‘Just like this, we were all here together, do you realise that?’

‘It felt good,’ Ralph says without hesitation. ‘It felt right even though I didn’t really know any of you. Does that sound weird?’

Willow and Jesse shake their heads. ‘I felt the same,’ agrees Jaime. ‘And I still do – like we were meant to find each other or something. Like we’ve all just slotted together.’

‘It’s all so weird,’ Ralph goes on. ‘And somehow it feels longer, like we’ve known each other forever!’ He meets their eyes with a shy smile. ‘Anyone else?’

Willow glances at Jesse and sees a hesitant smile in his eyes as he gives a slight nod of his head. He’s so guarded, she thinks, even now, so unsure. Jaime is beaming though.

‘Oh, definitely,’ she agrees. ‘Even though we really don’t know each other at all.’

Willow swivels to face them, pulling her legs up and crossing them. ‘Let’s get to know each other then,’ she says, her eyes on Jesse. ‘Ask me anything. Then we’ll take turns.’

Jesse frowns, his forehead furrowed under his dark hair. Then he grips one wrist with his other hand and leans over his knees. ‘How did you and Paddy first meet? How did you become friends? Do you remember it?’

‘First day of school,’ she replies instantly. ‘Though according to our mother’s we did play a few times before that, at nursery and at the park. But I don’t remember that. I remember the first day of school clearly.’

Jesse gives another quick, unsure smile. ‘Cool.’

‘He sat next to me,’ Willow continues with a whimsical smile. She tucks her hair behind her ears and wraps her thin arms around her chest. ‘And he was so smart he could already read and write. I spilt milk on the table at break, and he passed me this folded up handkerchief to mop it up with, then he let me drink his milk.’ She laughs softly, her eyes down. ‘That’s Paddy for you. Always prepared.’

‘Sounds like he was a friendly guy even then,’ grins Ralph.

‘What are your worst and best childhood memories?’ Jaime jumps in then.

Willow blinks, holds a finger to her lips, thinking. ‘Um… okay. Best, got to be my eighth birthday when my parents finally gave up embarrassing me with whole-class parties, and agreed to let just me and Paddy have a birthday picnic by the river. Then he had a sleepover at ours – first time we’d been allowed that too – and we stayed up all night, stargazing.’ She smiles, then sighs. ‘Worst? Oh well, it’s got to be when I pissed myself in PE because the teacher was in a foul mood and refused to let me go to the toilet. Her fault, not mine!’ She giggles as the others stare. ‘I was nine! But I remember it like yesterday. I was mortified and got teased about it for years after. Ugh.’ Willow gives herself a shake then looks at Ralph. ‘Your turn, Ralph. First time you met Paddy, then best and worst childhood memories.’

Ralph glances at the ceiling, thinking. ‘Okay, well I remember Paddy at the park one day, the one near the caravan site. He was reading a book on a bench. I don’t know how old we were. I think I was six or seven. Anyway I was playing ball with some other kids and the ball hit his book right out of his hands. I ran over but he wasn’t cross. He just gave the ball back and said hi.’

‘He’s never been one for sports,’ says Willow, eyebrows raised. ‘Always has his head in a book.’ She looks up then, wide-eyed as she realises what she has said.

Ralph glances away and shrugs. ‘Best childhood memory. Probably getting a new bike when I was ten. I had beat up second hand ones before that but I’d been asking for a new one for years. That was cool. Worst?’ He rests his chin in his hand, biting at his lip while he searches for one. ‘I mean, it would be my dad dying but I was too little to remember it so I guess just the first time I remember my mum really crying at his grave, and missing him.’ He shrugs again, brushing it off. ‘Jaime?’

Jaime smooths back her hair and smiles a little shyly. ‘Well, I only met Paddy the once which seems so weird now because… well, everything. And my worst childhood memory was not being invited to my so-called best-friend’s twelfth birthday party because I apparently wasn’t cool enough for her anymore.’ She winces over a forced smile. ‘Yeah, I don’t miss my old home much. And the best? Finding out my mum was pregnant. I can’t wait to be a big sister!’

They all grin at her and Willow agrees that it is strange; Jaime is a stranger yet they seem to feel and operate like a tight-knit group. It’s unsettling as much as it is reassuring.

‘Your turn, Jesse,’ she says, looking at him. ‘Same questions.’

Jesse narrows his eyes as if mulling it over then replies, ‘First memory I have of Paddy is that fucking stupid science club presentation he did in Year 5. They made us all watch it and I don’t even remember what it was about but I was bored shitless.’ He chuckles softly and glances at Willow who reassures him with a smile. ‘Best childhood memory? Shit, I dunno, best I can come up with is just dumb shit like riding dirt bikes on the hills with my brothers or getting totally wasted on red wine one Christmas. I dunno.’ He waves a hand, dismissing them both. ‘Worst? Coming home to find that letter from my mum saying she’d had to go.’

Willow stares at him, something stirring in her memories. ‘She left a note? What did it say, Jesse?’

‘Hold on,’ says Jaime. ‘I didn’t know this. Your mum left town? When was this?’

‘When I was ten,’ Jesse grunts, rubbing at his chin with one hand.

‘Do you still see her?’

‘No,’ he laughs bitterly. ‘Never seen her since.’

‘Well, hang on, doesn’t that mean she’s missing too? Like Paddy?’ Jaime swallows and blushes and stares at them each in turn, anxious that she has missed something.

‘I dunno,’ Jesse mutters and Willow can sense him pulling away again, shutting down.

She reaches out suddenly, finds her hand on his arm. ‘Jesse, do you remember what the note said?’

‘No. Just something about the town being bad for her.’

Willow nods and pulls back her hand. She almost squeezes it, wants to rub it even, but all she could feel in return was tension. He’s stiff, his face like thunder. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says and he shrugs.

Jaime squirms, her expression pained. ‘I’m sorry guys, I don’t want to say the wrong thing or anything, but don’t you think this should be added to the investigation?’ When no one answers her, she looks at Jesse. ‘Jesse, do you mind?’

He shakes his hair from his eyes but does not meet her gaze. ‘Do what you like.’

They all look on as Jaime tugs a notebook from her bag. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says again, looking at them each in turn. ‘But it might be important, don’t you think? There might be more to it, I mean. That’s something I’ve been thinking about, you see, whether Paddy is the first person ever to go missing like this.’

To this, Jesse nods firmly and he finally meets her eyes. To Willow, he looks both angry and scared and his jaw shudders slightly when he opens his mouth to speak.

‘Me too,’ he says to Jaime. ‘Because I nearly went missing too last night.’


Thanks for reading!

Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this latest chapter.

NOTE: Please remember this is NOT the finished version of Black Hare Valley Book 1. This book has not been to my editor yet or even my beta readers. There will be typos, grammatical mistakes, and sentences that need rewriting.

COMING NEXT THURSDAY: Chapter Seventeen: “Wanted”

Black Hare Valley: Chapter Twelve “The Plan”

image is mine…

© 2025 Chantelle Atkins. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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1

Ralph wakes up in a daze. He feels overtired, jittery and on edge. He goes through the motions of getting dressed and making breakfast but his hands won’t stop shaking the entire time, and he slops half of his cereal down his t-shirt.

He tries not to think about what’s ahead. He tries to focus on the here and now. Breakfast. Homework. Chores. Then getting the chainsaw, collecting some logs to take home to his mother, before hiding the saw out by the tree Willow showed them. He pictures the tree in his head – the footholds he will need to scale it, the low branches he can climb to. And he pictures the thick power line between two branches. He hopes if he saws through half of the biggest bough, it will crack and drop, making it look like more of a natural break if anyone investigates it. Otherwise he is going to have a hell of a lot of explaining to do to his mother at some point.

Ralph’s stomach twists and knots, and his breathing won’t slow down. He closes his eyes for a moment and runs his hands through his unruly curls, trying to figure out what Mulder and Scully would do.

They wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf, that’s for sure. They’d probably be excited, he thinks. Mulder would already be convinced it was some sort of mystical beast and Scully would be giving him that look and trying to prove it isn’t. They’d be gearing up, he thinks, opening his eyes, they wouldn’t hesitate. They wouldn’t freak out. Not ever.

Ralph breathes out, nodding, palms flat on the table. He’ll be like Mulder and Scully. He’ll be cool. He doesn’t even have the most dangerous bit. He won’t be breaking into Sergent Mayfield’s house.

He’s finally feeling a bit calmer when the caravan door is wrenched open making him jump and scream out loud. He turns around to see his mother’s quizzical face. ‘Ralph?’

‘Oh god, sorry Mum. I was daydreaming.’

‘Watching too many horror movies,’ she sighs. ‘Hey, do you want to earn a few quid?’

‘I guess. How?’

‘Mayor Sumner needs an extra pair of hands right now. I came back to get you. Come on!’

Ralph pushes the remnants of his soggy cereal away, his stomach suddenly queasy again. ‘Yeah, okay Mum.’

He grabs his coat, follows Charlotte outside and slips on his wellington boots. She is already cycling away so he locks up the caravan and grabs his own bike. He hangs back for a while. She’s always so fast, and he suddenly has no energy or desire to catch up with her. He can’t quite bear the idea of her looking at him too closely; fearful that his mother will be able to see right away that something is very wrong.

When they reach Hill Fort Farm, Mayor Sumner greets them on the driveway. She’s wearing a dark green wax jacket, a navy-blue silk scarf, mustard coloured jodhpurs and brown leather riding boots. A helmet swings from one hand and her faithful but overweight Labrador Horatio stands dopily at her feet, slobbering over a tennis ball.

‘Ah, Ralph! I can’t thank you enough.’

Ralph smiles and lets his mother take his bike with hers. ‘That’s okay, Mayor Sumner,’ he says, his mouth suddenly impossibly dry. ‘I’m happy to help. What can I do?’

‘It’s the pheasant pen again,’ she says, slipping a stiff arm around his shoulders and leading him towards the large house. ‘You’ve done it before when the gamekeeper was away on holiday. They just need a thorough cleaning out.’

He nods, smiling, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels. ‘No problem.’

They walk around the back of the house until they have reached the immaculate rose garden Mayor Sumner keeps beyond her lounge and the open French doors. They keep walking down the gentle slope of the vast green lawn beyond towards the woods that make up a large section of her land.

‘How is everything, Ralph?’ she asks him as the pheasant woods come into view. ‘I hear you’re enjoying school so far this year and you’ve made friends with the new girl in town, Jaime?’

‘Yeah, I have, she’s really nice.’

‘Oh yes, I know. Her mother is an absolute dear. We’re lucky to have them both, aren’t we?’

‘Definitely.’

Mayor Sumner lets her arm drop from his shoulder and stops walking. ‘Well Ralph, I’ll let you go from here. I’m about to take my new mare Cassie for a quick ride. Come up to the house when you’re done though. I’ll make sure you get something to eat and drink.’

‘Thank you.’

She smiles and turns away. Ralph watches her for a moment, noting her straight back and swift, purposeful strides. The chubby Labrador struggles to keep up and Ralph imagines he won’t be joining her for the horse ride.

Ralph glances down the hill and starts walking towards the woods. It’s a fairly large area, at least a few acres of Douglas Firs, Scots Pines and spindly Silver Birch. The pheasant pen sits in the middle. A large wooden shed surrounded by a wire mesh pen. As Ralph approaches, the birds inside strut about, making a lot of nervous noises. He ignores them and opens the shed from the side.

He quietly closes the other door so that the pheasants are shut in the pen and he gets to work, feeling a little calmer now that the mayor has gone. As he rakes out the mucky straw and wood shavings, Ralph talks himself into a calmer state. She might not have anything to do with what Mayfield is up to, or with Paddy going missing. She could even be a victim herself. Ralph nods to himself as he cleans out the pen. Mayor Sumner has always been good to him and his mother. She’s always done the best thing for the town. Just because they know Mayfield is up to something sinister, it doesn’t mean all the committee members are too.

When Ralph finishes, he’s hot and sweaty and coughing from the dust of the fresh bedding. He ties up the bags of muck and carries them slowly back up to the house.

‘Would you leave them outside the vegetable garden, please Ralph?’ Mayor Sumner is at the French doors, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. ‘My gardener does wonders with it all. Good boy.’

Ralph does as she’s asked, then returns sheepishly to the house. She’s still waiting at the doors and smiles at him fondly. ‘You’ll be wanting to wash those hands, young man.’

‘Yes, please.’

He follows her from the lounge into the big wood-panelled hallway and then left into the kitchen. It’s a large, airy room with a stone floor and a huge old oak table taking up the centre space. An array of old fashioned dressers and sideboards and shelves provide storage.

Ralph is always surprised to see the modest way the mayor lives. Yes, the house is large and grand on the outside and she has various staff at her beck and call, yet she never seems to update or refurbish the interior.

There is a large range oven roasting logs, and Horatio is spread out in front of it on a tattered green rug. He opens one eye when Ralph walks in, thumps his tail twice then returns to his gentle snoring.

Ralph washes his hands thoroughly in the sink then uses a tea towel with Labradors on it to dry them.

‘Here, Ralph. Have a break.’

He turns around to see the mayor has laid out two tall glasses of cloudy lemonade on the table next to a plate of sliced fruit cake and a selection of expensive looking chocolate biscuits. He sits down, smiling gratefully.

‘Brilliant! Thank you.’

‘No, thank you, Ralph.’ The mayor does not sit down. She leans against the nearest counter, sipping her lemonade with her eyes on Ralph. ‘Coming up here unexpectedly on a Saturday morning. Most teenagers would rather be in bed or hanging out with their friends.’

He looks up, hastily swallowing the guilty lump stuck in his throat. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

She’s still smiling although he wonders if he can detect a level of scrutiny he had not noticed in her eyes before. She sips her drink and he picks up a biscuit.

‘Your mum says you’ve been hanging around with the Archer boy, Ralph.’

He pauses mid-chew, looks away and nods. There’s no point denying it. He wonders why anyone cares, but of course they do in a small town like this. Everyone cares about everyone else’s business. It’s just the way it is.

‘Well,’ says the mayor, ‘you’ll no doubt get some people telling you to avoid that boy but personally I agree with your mother.’

Ralph swallows again. ‘You do?’

‘Yes. I think it’s very good of you, very kind. Your mother has brought you up to be a kind and considerate young man, Ralph. It’s admirable to give people second chances.’

His head bobs up and down in obvious relief and he takes another biscuit from the plate.

‘And,’ she continues, watching him, ‘if anyone needs a second chance, it’s that boy. He hasn’t had an easy life. It’s no wonder he’s become such a troublemaker really. What example did anyone set him?’

Ralph nods in agreement with her. He can’t say what he’s really thinking, which is that Jesse Archer, to him at least, is possibly the bravest and most selfless person he has ever met. He truly hopes that even after all of this, they will always be friends.

Mayor Sumner changes the subject then. She lowers her head a little, scans the room and even checks the hallway. Then she pulls out a chair and sits next to Ralph, hands cupped around her glass.

‘Ralph, quickly, while your mother is not close by. I need to ask your advice about something.’

Ralph tries his best to hide it, but feels instantly cautious. He’s never been asked for advice before from an adult, and she suddenly seems very intense, frown lines on her forehead, her teeth pulling at her lower lip as if she is nervous. Mayor Sumner is never nervous, not about anything.

‘Of course,’ he replies. ‘What is it?’

‘Well, I had a thought you see.’ She shakes back her neat hair and straightens out her posture as if getting down to business. ‘About your mother and how I could repay her for how utterly wonderful and reliable she is. And I know she’s been saving for a bigger place for a long time now. A cottage.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Ralph thinks of his mum’s early starts and late finishes, her cut and calloused hands and the dirt under her nails. No one works harder than his mother but there is only one her – one wage to cover everything.

‘Well now.’ Mayor Sumner leans close to him. ‘One of my cottages is coming up, you see. The old lady that rented it has recently passed away and once we’ve given it a spring clean and a lick of paint, it will be available again.’

Ralph blinks at her. ‘Oh. But I don’t think she has enough saved yet.’

‘Well no, but that’s where my thought came in. My idea. How do you think she would feel if I waived the deposit usually required and just let her move right in? I can lower the rent a bit too. Just don’t tell her that bit, please. I don’t want to offend her.’

‘Oh!’ Ralph sees what she means now. He’s surprised, overwhelmed and slightly baffled. And she wants to know how his mother will feel? He knows she will feel at least a little bit ashamed if someone helps her. He knows she will feel like she cheated. But he also knows that she won’t turn it down – because of him.

‘What do you think?’ the mayor presses him. ‘I don’t want to offend her. That’s the last thing I’d want. I know she is a proud woman and I admire it. But I don’t know when another cottage will come up, you see. She’ll miss out, Ralph.’

‘Oh…’ And now he sees the dilemma Mayor Sumner has. He thinks for a second and then decides to be truthful with her. It has always worked in the past. ‘I think that’s really kind and generous of you, Mayor Sumner and I think my mum will definitely say yes, and she’ll be ever so happy and excited and grateful but I know she will feel a bit awkward about it. Like she’s had a favour.’

‘I’ll talk to her then,’ Mayor Sumner says with a smile. ‘I’ll just bring it up and mention it and see where it goes. I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement. Thank you, Ralph, for your honesty. You’re such a mature young man and the man of the house, of course, which is why I wanted to run it by you first.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re very welcome, my dear.’ She gives his arm a little pat and pushes back her chair. ‘I’m happy to help. That’s how this town works, you see. That’s what makes us special. We reward people, Ralph. We look out for the good ones like your mother. It’s always been that way and I think that’s why people very rarely leave this place… Now, you must excuse me while I go and check on Hilda. She wants to sit outside today now it’s getting warm enough. Summer will soon be here, Ralph.’

‘Oh yes,’ he agrees. ‘Do you need me for anything else?’

‘No, no. You go on home, dear. Oh. Hold on, I almost forgot.’ She slides her hand into her pocket and pulls out a flat brown wallet. Ralph stands awkwardly while she counts out two £5 notes and hands them to him. It seems far too generous but he takes them anyway.

‘Thank you, Mayor Sumner!’

‘You earned it, young man. Now, off you go.’ She smiles as he heads to the hallway. ‘Enjoy the rest of the day and don’t get up to any mischief!’

His own smile feels more like a grimace as he turns to leave. Next on the agenda, cutting down some wood so he isn’t lying to his mother about needing the chainsaw, and then hiding it out at the targeted tree as arranged. He swallows his guilt, holds his head up and leaves.

2

Jaime lies on her bed, a shaft of sunlight illuminating the books and notes she has spread out around her. Her door is locked as it almost always is lately and her mother and Mark have accepted her explanation of simply needing more privacy now that she is a teenager.

Because Jaime has never given her mother a reason to distrust her, it has been reluctantly accepted. She feels guilty but she also feels undeniably heroic. Risking family harmony to help save a boy she has only met once. Paddy was kind to her though, welcoming, and she can’t help feeling that they would be friends if he was still around.

At night, it eats away at her and keeps her restless. What has happened to him, where he is, if he is lost, scared or hurt. Like the others, Jaime feels strongly that he is still alive. She likes to believe she can feel his presence everywhere and in everything they do.

She has made several notes on local folklore. There is a lot of familiar stuff: witches, fairies and the like. The May Day celebration she missed out on, for example, involved marking the first day of summer with dancing, singing and eating. The town park still has a traditional May-Pole erected in the centre of the green and according to Mark, the children still dress up and dance around it once a year. She can’t help feeling he is a little disappointed with her for not joining in.

Within the books, Jaime finds reference to hares being caught prior to May Day only to be released as part of the festivities. Jaime thinks of her brief sighting of what must have been an extremely rare wild animal and marvels at how the same incredible creature could appear so nonchalantly and casually to Jesse.

She finds a solitary black and white photograph dated May 1903 in which three brown hares can be seen tearing free from a small wire cage. A crowd surrounds them and the May Pole can be seen towering behind them.

There is also an old photograph of the fire-jumping custom – where townsfolk would line up to take turns jumping over a line of fire across one of the local fields. The narrative explains that the custom was thought to protect the towns livestock from fairies.

She reads with fascination, about the ancient tradition of giving a ‘May basket’, something the book claims still continues in modern times. Small, handwoven baskets are left anonymously on neighbour’s doorsteps, containing small gifts to eat, or spring flowers.

In the more recent photos, Jaime pores over photos of the May Queen being crowned in the park before dancing joyfully around the Maypole in swirling ribbons. The folklore mostly seems to revolve around hares, witches and fairies. Jaime reads about myths and legends dating back centuries. Depending on who is writing, it seems that hares have been deemed as both good and bad luck.

She is just about to start reading ‘The Witch of The Valley’ when a knock at the door startles her.

Her head snaps up. ‘Who is it?’

‘Willow! Your mum let me up.’

‘Oh!’ Jaime leaps off the bed and rushes to let her in.

Willow slips inside and tugs a book free from under her arm as Jaime closes and locks the door again.

‘I brought this one from our shop.’ She hands it to Jaime. ‘Thought you might find it interesting.’

Jaime sits back on the bed, examining the book. Its cover is beautiful – navy-blue with golden typography and silhouettes of hares running around the edges. ‘Mystic and Magic – Animal Folklore Through The Ages. Sounds good!’

Willow sits beside her, nodding. ‘I remembered it when you and Jesse said about the white hare. There’s loads in there – a whole section about hares.’

‘There’s stuff in here too,’ says Jaime, passing her the local traditions book. ‘They used to release hares in the park on May Day.’

‘Oh, they still do. I think it’s cruel. One of the reasons I don’t go.’

‘I’m starting to feel sorry I missed it. It might have been interesting. I was just about to start this one.’ She passes her The Witch of The Valley. ‘Ever heard stories about witches here?’

Willow wrinkles her nose. ‘Nah, not really. Though, of course, kids joke about Iris Cotton being one. But that’s horribly predictable, isn’t it? Any old woman living alone who’s a bit of a recluse is obviously a witch, right? And you haven’t been here long enough to hear what they say about me.’

Jaime sighs. ‘There must have be a bigger story once. Do you recognise the author?’

Willow peers at the book. ‘J. Simmons, nope. Not a name in town I recognise. Miss Spires is the one to ask. She’s so nosy about people’s families and ancestors, she knows everything. I’ll start reading it if you want to look at that one.’

‘Yeah, good plan. Hey, I’m glad you dropped by.’

Willow drops back on the bed, lying on her back with the book held over her face. ‘No problem. I was going crazy on my own, thinking about… you know.’

‘Yeah. Me too.’

Jaime opens the book to the section on hares and reads quietly for a while. Every now and then she makes a note in her notepad.

‘Similar to the other stuff I found,’ she reports. ‘Hares are associated with spring, with fertility, birth and resurrection and in some cultures, with madness.’

‘The Mad March Hare,’ grins Willow. ‘Though really it’s just the females fighting off the males in breeding season.’

‘Do you see a lot of hares here, Willow? Brown ones, I mean?’

‘Not often, no,’ Willow replies. ‘They’re elusive. Shy. And super-fast. I did see some boxing once though. I was with Paddy actually, about a year ago.’

Jaime smiles at her warmly, encouraging her to go on. ‘Where was this?’

‘It was up near the ruins. I’ll never forget how big they were. They really are much bigger than rabbits, I mean, there’s no way you could mistake them. We watched them for ages and for some reason, we started making funny stories up about them.’

‘Really?’

Willow looks away shyly. ‘Paddy has great ideas, that’s something I really like about him, because you’re never bored when he’s around. He’ll always think of something to do and I guess it was like that with the hares. He couldn’t just watch them, he had to make up lives and adventures for them. We carried it on, we wrote it down and everything.’

‘That’s so nice, and so cool. I’ve never had a friend like that. You must miss him so much, Willow.’

‘I do.’ Willow’s smile falls away. ‘That’s why we have to do this. We can’t give up on him. He would not give up on any of us, I promise you.’

Jaime nods and looks back at the book. ‘Some cultures see hares as bad luck, it says. And associate them with witches and witchcraft. There’s mention of a witch trial in Somerset in 1663, where a local woman is believed to have been chased by dogs as a hare, then shocked everyone by turning into a woman.’

‘Burned at the stake after that, I bet!’ says Willow grimly, sitting back up. ‘So, it says here there were witch trials in Black Hare Valley in the 1600s. They suspected a lot of women, by the sounds of it…’

Jaime makes a quick note of this. ‘Any names?’

‘Nothing familiar,’ Willow replies. ‘But it does say a woman named Agnes Salter was stoned to death and her house was burned down. Oh. Wow.’

Jaime sits forward. ‘What?’

Willow lowers the book and points to the words, Black Hare Cottage.

Jaime gapes. ‘Iris Cotton’s house!’

‘Well, a much older version of it maybe.’ Willow gently places the book on the bed between them. Her hands dangle between her knees.

Jaime sits, open-mouthed. Then she shakes herself. ‘Willow, let’s not get spooked or carried away. This doesn’t necessarily mean anything. This is folklore we’re talking about.’ She lays her hands on her knees and turns up her palms. ‘We have to focus on the facts. The stuff we do know.’ Willow turns her head slowly to look at her. Jaime pulls down a finger. ‘One, Paddy vanished without a trace. No forensic evidence, no clues, no note. But!’ She holds up a finger. ‘We can’t rule out that he left the house of his own accord. His fingerprints were everywhere anyway, so they can’t say for sure.’ She pulls another finger down. ‘Two, Sergeant Mayfield is definitely crooked. We know he’s been blackmailing Jesse to help him spy on people, but we don’t know why.’ A third finger goes down. ‘Three, we know Paddy found a strange book in the treehouse and looked at it alone. It’s missing and Sergeant Mayfield knew it was there because of his camera, and because he sent those boys to get it for him, so either he or Paddy must have it. That’s everything.’

She clasps her hands together and stares away. ‘We’ll know more after tonight. Then we can talk again about all this stuff. What do you think?’

She stares at Willow, hoping she will agree. She doesn’t want to think about anything but the known, hard facts. She wants to cling desperately to there being a sound and rational explanation and if they just look long enough and hard enough, they will find it. Jaime suddenly wants to collect up all the books and throw them out of the window. She doesn’t want them in her head.

Willow exhales slowly. ‘Okay,’ she shrugs but the look she gives Jaime suggests biting her lip is costing her dearly.

Jaime smiles in thanks. ‘Let’s go over the plan again.’

3

Jesse is woken mid-morning by the sound of his father crashing through the front door. He jerks awake, then freezes, listening to the door slamming followed by shaky footsteps moving sluggishly through to the lounge. The creak of springs followed by a loud burp lets Jesse know that his father has passed out on the sofa. Still, Jesse stays in bed just in case.

Wyatt is not in bed but Billy is. One eye is open as he lies on his side on the bottom bunk where the walls are covered in pictures of women he has torn out of magazines. A seductive shot of Pamela Anderson from Baywatch stands above the female cast of Friends, while Cindy Crawford fights for wall space with Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell.

‘Billy?’

‘What?’

‘Can I ask you a favour?’

Billy opens the other eye, sighs, then props himself up on one elbow. ‘Depends what it is.’

Jesse sits up, ruffles his hair and lowers his feet to the floor. ‘Are you going to the pub tonight?’

Billy frowns. ‘Wasn’t planning to, why?’

‘They have a band playing.’

‘So?’

Jesse shrugs. ‘Can I ask you to go? At 8 o’clock? As a favour?’

Now Billy’s eyes light up in interest. ‘What’s this about, Jesse?’

He shakes his head. ‘Nah, I can’t say. Will you do it?’

‘Go to the pub at 8 o’clock. For how long?’

‘For as long as Sergeant Mayfield is there too.’

Now Billy’s face darkens and his eyes narrow. ‘What’s this got to do with Mayfield? What are you up to?’

‘Told you, I can’t say. All you have to do is go to the pub with Wyatt, have a good time, watch the band…’

‘And keep an eye on Mayfield?’

Jesse nods reluctantly. ‘If he seems like he’s leaving I need you and Wyatt to start a fight.’

Billy drops his head into his hands and rakes his fingers back through his short dark hair. ‘I mean, sounds like fun, but…’

‘Thanks, Billy. I’ll owe you.’

‘Yeah. You will,’ he looks up, nodding. ‘Soon as I think of something.’

‘There’s something else.’

Billy mutters under his breath. ‘What?’

‘I need a favour from Hairy Dave again – any chance you have another dirty tape I can bribe him with?’

Billy rolls his eyes before reaching under the bed and tugging out a grubby backpack. ‘Few in here. I guess you can help yourself, little brother.’

‘Thanks Billy. I mean it.’

Jesse feels his brother watching him for a while. He can feel his questions hanging in the air between them and as usual his own questions begin to fill his head and he wonders if there will ever be a right time to ask them.

Billy and Wyatt are still angry with their mother. They tend to view mental illness as some sort of deliberate weakness, some clever ploy that lazy, needy people use to get others to look after them. They’ve said before that they’re all better off without their mother and they’ve consistently refused to talk about her.

But Jesse wonders now… She disappeared too. She ran away. Like Paddy, but not like Paddy – she packed a bag and left a note. Jesse sees the words in his head. ‘This town is bad for me. I won’t be back.’

Selfish, they called her, crazy, depressed, unhinged. Better off without her. Jesse feels his stomach clenching and his scalp crawling with fear as the reality of tonight’s break-in hits him. There’s no turning back now.

4

Willow walks home after sharing a quiet lunch of pub-cooked chips with Jaime. Jaime’s mother, blooming with pregnancy, seemed exceptionally pleased that her daughter and Willow are friends and insisted on bringing up bowls of freshly cooked chips doused in salt and vinegar. Willow tried her best but picked at them listlessly; her mind on the mission and her stomach tight with the fear of what failure could mean.

When she returns to the shop, it’s busy with Saturday afternoon gift-buyers and her mother is at the till carefully wrapping a photo frame in lilac tissue paper. Her slim fingers work deftly and carefully as the customer, a middle-aged lady in denim dungarees, waits patiently. ‘Missing’ by Everything But The Girl is playing on the radio.

‘Need any help?’ Willow asks, slipping behind the counter. It’s then that she notices the polaroid camera sat next to the till. Her eyes light up. This would be much quicker than asking Hairy Dave to photocopy pages for them…

‘There’s some new stock in the back room needs unpacking,’ her mother replies and Willow nods, backing away with her eyes still on the camera.

It would be safer too, she thinks; they wouldn’t have to rely on Dave again, and photos would be easier to hide. Sure, Jaime has a whole notebook full of notes now hidden in her room but the book is different. Far more dangerous. But if they can take photos of the pages of the book they could sneak the whole thing back… Sergeant Mayfield might never know they were there.

5

Ralph has told his mother more lies in one day than he has in his entire life. He hates it. He hates the secrecy and sneakiness and wishes more than anything that he could just open up to her, just tell her the truth about everything.

He imagines it for a moment; telling her that the town policeman is a blackmailing spy, who probably has something to do with Paddy vanishing…and, oh by the way, Mum, don’t you feel like they gave up searching for Paddy pretty quickly? Don’t you think it feels like people are forgetting him already?

Would she agree? Or is she too much a part of it all? Ralph isn’t even sure what he means – he just knows somehow that he can’t tell her anything, not yet. They have very little evidence. Jesse Archer is a known troublemaker and Charlotte Maxwell loves this town.

He pictures her face earlier when she came back from work. She was grubby and flushed with bits of hay clinging to her hair but she couldn’t control or hide the excitement in her voice or face.

‘Margaret has made me an amazing offer, Ralphie. I just can’t believe it!’

He pretended he didn’t already know. He faked excitement and gratitude at Mayor Sumner’s generosity – yet more lies between he and his mother.

‘We can go and see it next weekend,’ she told him, biting her nails with nervous excitement. ‘They’re clearing it out at the moment. A few things need updating and so on. Ralph, can you believe it? Finally, a proper house! You’ll have a proper bricks and mortar bedroom! And a garden!’

He didn’t tell her that he likes the caravan just fine – that he has always liked it. It was his home. He remembers his mother telling him that it was his dad, Frankie, who bought them the caravan when he found out she was expecting Ralph. He’d used his savings and got out a loan to cover the rest of it. Ralph wonders if it is insulting his father’s memory to move out now, but he doesn’t know for sure. He doesn’t know much about his father, or who he was, what he liked or didn’t like, because his mother has never liked talking about it.

As he arrives at The Hound and Hare he thinks about that word, home. Will a new house, one owned by the mayor, feel like home? Will Black Hare Valley still feel like home if they turn on it?

He goes through the front entrance and is met by the thick warmth of fire, noise and people, and it envelopes him tightly as he makes his way towards the bar. He spots Jesse’s older brothers lurking in the corner, the younger one looking bored and tired while the oldest one looks sharp and awake. The band are setting up their equipment and Jaime is sitting next to one of the front windows on a cosy cushion-covered bench with a book open on the table in front of her.

Ralph smiles in relief and makes his way over to her. The pub is full. People gather around tables and benches, drinks in hands. Jaime smiles weakly as he sits down opposite her. She pushes the book towards him and he glances down at him.

‘The Witch of The Valley? Our valley?’

‘Yep.’ Her gaze skirts quickly over the crowd. ‘It’s about witch trials here in the 1600s and a woman they killed called Agnes Salter.’

He frowns. ‘Don’t think I’ve heard that name.’

‘They burned her house down too,’ Jaime leans forward. ‘It was Black Hare Cottage.’

‘What? Really?’ Ralph feels a shiver twist down his spine.

‘Not the same one obviously. Someone must have rebuilt it and kept the name. I’d love to ask Iris Cotton about it, wouldn’t you?’

Ralph nods silently. He takes a nervous look around and swallows. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this, can you?’

‘No. Did you hide the saw?’

‘Yeah, it’s there. Ready.’ His gaze shifts to the older Archer boys in the corner. ‘Looks like Jesse arranged the back-up distraction.’

Suddenly, Jaime straightens up. ‘Take the book, Ralph.’

‘Huh? Why?’ She is staring over his head. He doesn’t have to look to know that Sergeant Mayfield has just walked into the pub. He can tell by the barely contained horror on Jaime’s face.

‘Do I go now?’

‘No, not yet. Take the book and look at it for a bit. Act casual. Chat to me a bit, then go.’

Ralph nods rather stiffly and starts flicking through the book. ‘Shit, Jaime.’

‘I know, I know. It’s okay, you can do it.’

‘But the rest of it…’ He’s feeling genuine fear now; thinking ahead to the walk to the tree and the sound of the chainsaw. He feels sick and shaky and wants to ask Jaime to come with him but he knows he can’t because that’s not part of the plan. It will look too suspicious.

He turns the pages of the book slowly, nodding his head and raising his eyebrows in mock interest.

‘I feel bad you know,’ whispers Jaime. ‘It’s Willow and Jesse who have got the worst bit.’

Ralph was just having the exact same thought. If he gets caught cutting the branches, he can explain it away. It’ll look odd, for sure, and he might get in trouble but he doesn’t think anyone will connect it to Paddy. Jaime gives him a firm nod. He rises, taking the book with him. He tucks it under one arm and tries to give a natural nod of thanks to Jaime.

‘How will we know?’ Jaime asks, staring up at him, her eyes just a little too wide. ‘If they’ve found it?’

‘I don’t know,’ he exhales hoarsely. ‘Maybe they’ll give a signal.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. But we’re all meeting at the ruins in the morning anyway. We’ll hear everything then.’

Her gaze darts away then she nods firmly. The band are all set up and Mayfield has his back to them, pint glass in hand.

Ralph mutters, ‘Wish me luck.’

‘You won’t need it. Night, Ralph.’

‘Night, Jaime.’

Ralph inhales, turns away and walks briskly with eyes fixed ahead to the doors, and out of the pub.


Thanks for reading!

Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this latest chapter.

NOTE: Please remember this is NOT the finished version of Black Hare Valley Book 1. This book has not been to my editor yet or even my beta readers. There will be typos, grammatical mistakes, and sentences that need rewriting.

COMING NEXT THURSDAY: Chapter Thirteen “The Break-In”

Black Hare Valley: Chapter Eleven “The Book”

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1

A silver moon shimmer behind the black clouds hanging lifelessly over the valley. Margaret Sumner ushes Aaron Mayfield out onto the patio and away from Hilda’s girlish giggling. As she bumps shut the Victorian French doors, Hilda’s nonsense is muted and contained within the lounge.

Mayfield glances back at her through the glass. She is sitting in her wheelchair clutching a ragdoll and chanting along to some rubbish on TV. The reflection of moving images dance across Mayor Sumner’s face as she lights a cigarette on the patio and draws on it hungrily, as if she has been craving it for a long time.

Mayfield is relieved to be on the other side of the door. He knows it’s silly but Hilda has always made him feel uncomfortable. Most of the time he simply finds her embarrassing to be around – a middle-aged woman who drools and wets herself, but sometimes she simply puts him on edge. Sometimes she stops her nonsense and stares at him so intently and sharply that he would swear the whole mentally handicapped thing is one big con.

Not tonight though. Tonight she’s babbling away like a confused and overtired two-year-old and he can tell that Margaret has had just about enough of it.

‘You should get some proper help,’ he comments then, lighting his own cigarette. ‘It’s not like you can’t afford it. Or put her somewhere.’

Margaret side-eyes him, her mouth a straight line. ‘I do have help. There’s plenty of folk I call on. Like Charlotte Maxwell for instance.’

Mayfield’s interest increases. He has always had a soft spot for the hard-working Maxwell girl. ‘I knew she worked for you, but I imagined it was on the farm.’

‘Oh yes, mostly, but she’s been so wonderful I’ve actually just elevated her to more of a general position.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, someone I can call on for a multitude of things. She’s so good with Hilda, for example, and Charlotte seems to appreciate a change of scenery every now and then. She’s perfectly capable with the sheep and the horses, for example, and perfectly able to fix fences, drive tractors, you name it. And I can call on her for Hilda if I need to.’

‘I see.’ Mayfield feels mildly jealous. ‘I assume you’ve increased her wages then?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Margaret sits with one arm folded over her trim middle. ‘I certainly have. And I’ve set in motion a plan to help her and Ralph get out of that caravan at last.’

‘All sounds wonderful.’

‘It will be. Our town rewards people like Charlotte Maxwell. Which brings me to the topic of the day. I hear Mr Archer is sleeping off his latest bender in one of your cells?’

Mayfield rolls his eyes and makes a sound of disgust. ‘You heard right. Useless scumbag has always had a problem with drink. Remember when he was a teenager? Jesus Christ, it was always him, wasn’t it? Any time there was any trouble, he was at the centre of it.’

‘I remember. Well, I think it’s time we took more of a hands on approach with his wayward son, don’t you agree?’

Mayfield perks up, turning to her, his eyes intense. ‘In what way?’

‘Well, we won’t be too hasty but you certainly have another reason to question him. Our source confirms that he was with Ralph Maxwell, the new girl, Jaime, and Willow Harrison at the ruins last Saturday.’ Margaret holds up a hand before he can explode. ‘And Charlotte asked Ralph directly if he and Jesse are hanging out these days and the boy was honest and said yes.’ She smiles a little at this. ‘Such an honest boy. Charlotte is worried, of course. On the one hand, she’s proud of his honesty and finds it sweet that he wants to give a bad apple a second chance, but quite rightly she’s also nervous of the Archer boy leading hers astray. He’s also two years above Ralph and one year above Willow and Jaime. It worries me that they’ll start looking up to him.’

Mayfield breaths in through his flared nostrils, puffing out his thick chest. ‘I’ll speak to him first thing. Lying little shit…’

‘Keep his father for leverage,’ shrugs Margaret.

‘I’ll suggest foster care with me or Hewlett again. That’ll shit him up.’

‘Or me,’ says Margaret, looking at him. ‘That’s another option, if it comes to it. Perhaps I could make use of him here.’

Mayfield sneers, genuinely appalled. ‘Why would you want to? He’s no good to anyone.’

‘Well now, that’s not true. He’s been very useful to you over the years, Aaron. You have to admit that whether you like it or not. He helped solve our little Finnis problem.’

Mayfield looks at the sky, shaking his head. ‘It should have been him. It should have been the bad apple, Margaret, I’m telling you. We missed an opportunity.’

‘Oh Aaron, will you let it go?’

‘No one ever listens to me,’ he seethes.

‘Well anyway. I suggest you speak to him but don’t be too heavy-handed just yet, Aaron. You catch more flies with honey, and all that.’

‘And what about them all being friends?’

She screws up her mouth, frowning. ‘We’ll watch them for now. Let them be, but watch them. Anything threatening and we’ll shut them down. Take Archer out of the equation.’

Mayfield nods but he’s rigid with anger. He’s still disappointed that the Archer scumbag walks free while the Finnis boy is gone. And to imagine Jesse Archer here, lounging around at Hill Fort Farm is galling. He says nothing, but sits simmering, smoking his cigarette.

2

Friday morning, Jesse leaves early again and makes his way quickly and stealthily around the back of the town. He wants it done. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess of it or gets caught. He just wants it done and he wants the awful weight of it out of his pocket and out of his mind.

He creeps closer this time and when Iris Cotton has emerged to shuffle her way down to the lake, Jesse crawls on his belly through the trees and then crouches behind the back of the holly hedging at the side of her garden.

With her back turned, Jesse can see the back door to the kitchen is open a crack and the smell of baking bread wafts towards him. A fat black cat is curled up on the stone doorstep. Jesse moves instinctively, barely a thought in his head, except get it done, get it done. He leaps over the hedge, and it claws at him viciously, piercing and scratching the skin on his legs, backside and arms. Without even checking the coast is clear, Jesse legs it to the back door, steps over the cat who sits up, arching its back and hissing, and scans the kitchen wildly.

It’s a small room, with exposed grey bricks and thick wooden beams on the ceiling. The smell of bread dominates but under that he detects herbs and spices and something like charcoal. He spots a thick wooden shelf above the old Aga and crosses the room, reaching up to it. He pushes jars and pots aside and sets the camera up behind them. He arranges the dusty items in front of it, then steps back, almost stomping on the creature that has entered the kitchen via the hallway. He slaps a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming.

A slim white hare sits in the middle of the kitchen, one forepaw raised and quivering. It stares at him through huge red eyes, its whiskers twitching at the end of its elongated nose and flared nostrils.

Jesse thinks he must be dreaming, he must be seeing things. He has never seen a white hare before; didn’t even know they existed. He has never seen a live hare inside a house before. An image flashes through his head of the hare hanging over the bathtub at home and he backs out of the kitchen, hands held up as if to ward it off.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles then turns to run.

Jesse trips over the cat on the doorstep and sprawls face first into wet grass. His uniform is an absolute mess. He can’t go to school looking like this; Bishop will kill him. He doesn’t look back to see if the hare is watching. He just jumps up and throws himself at the hedge. Somehow, he battles his way through to the other side, battered and bloodied and panicked, then takes off through the trees. He’s messed up and he knows it. The whole thing was a complete disaster and all because he was too impatient and desperate to get it done so that he can focus on Paddy and the book.

Now, he emerges from the woods beside the church and is not surprised at all to see Sergeant Mayfield’s police car parked on the road there, waiting for him.

‘Get in, Archer,’ the familiar gravelly voice commands through the open window.

Jesse hesitates. He looks up and down the High Street which is already bustling with people going about their lives. He feels a stab of anger. Why can’t his life ever be peaceful? Why does it have to be such a constant horror show?

Mayfield leans over the passenger seat. ‘Get in yourself or I come over there, throw you to the ground and handcuff you in front of everyone. Is that what you want?’

Jesse sags. He pulls his backpack from his shoulders, opens the door and gets in. Instantly, the windows roll up and the doors lock. Mayfield taps his fingers across the top of his baton which is lying on his lap.

‘State of you,’ he sneers, looking Jesse up and down.

Jesse turns up his palms and examines the holly bush scratches. His whole body stings and itches from them and his trousers are covered in mud.

‘I did it,’ he sighs raggedly. ‘Black Hare Cottage. That’s why I’m such a mess. If I go to school like this, Mr Bishop will kill me.’

‘Well, what a dilemma,’ says Mayfield with a small smile. ‘Go to school like that and get in trouble or skip school and get in trouble.’ He leans towards Jesse and winks. ‘Tell you what, I’ll drop you off myself and put in a good word for you. I’ll tell Mr Bishop a feral dog chased you into the trees and you fell down in the mud.’

He grins widely and Jesse freezes, growing cold from his scalp to his toes. There is something wolfish and hungry about that sneering grin and there’s an undeniable stench too. Something earthy and meaty. Jesse presses himself into the locked passenger door.

Mayfield’s smile dims. ‘I thought I warned you about lying to me.’

Jesse frowns. ‘I didn’t-’

‘Shut up.’ His voice is cold and hard, his eyes dead. ‘You said you weren’t friends with those kids and that was a lie. Ralph Maxwell told his mother that you are indeed, friends.’ He says the word as if it offends him.

‘They just follow me around. I can’t help it.’

‘Is that so? And were you friends with Paddy Finnis too?’

Jesse stares at him. He feels a rare stirring of anger, of protest.

‘Yes, I was,’ he says, lifting his chin slightly. ‘I am. Why? What does any of it matter to you?’

Mayfield sits back, his large hands linked over the baton lying across his wide thighs. He sniffs. ‘Well, Jesse, a lot of people in this town are concerned about you. They see you very clearly going down the same road as your brothers and father and they wonder what they can do to help you.’

Jesse shakes his head. ‘No one wants to help me.’

‘Oh, come on, that’s not true. And with your father banged up yet again, tongues of concern have started to wag.’

Jesse looks down, his cheeks flushed with growing anger. ‘Back to this again. Look, I said I did the cottage! It’s done!’

‘Good. I’m glad,’ says Mayfield. ‘But that’s not what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about your father being unavailable and all the kindly committee folk lining up willing to take you in.’

Jesse swallows and shakes his head in horror. ‘I don’t need anyone to take me in.’

‘But just think how it could change your life, Archer. Think about a warm home, real food, a clean school uniform.’

He keeps shaking his head. ‘No thanks.’

Mayfield leans forward again, lifting up the baton and tapping the thick end into the palm of his hand. It makes a satisfying thwack sound and Jesse flinches, closing his eyes, and helplessly imagining the blind pain of it striking his kneecaps.

‘Well, you better not let me find you in any more trouble then. No break-ins, no trespassing. No vandalism or underage drinking. Because this is your last chance. It’s about time you learned your lesson.’ He runs a fat tongue over his lower lip. ‘And this town wants to teach you, Jesse. It really does.’ He grins and slips the baton away. ‘Seatbelt on,’ he commands as he ignites the engine. ‘I’ll drop you off and vouch for you like I said. You see, Jesse. It pays to keep on my good side.’

3

Willow takes the long way round to school. She leaves through the back, crossing through the field behind her home, her cloak fastened, her hood up and her headphones on. She’s listening to her favourite band, Sleater-Kinney sing ‘The Day I Went Away’ and as she walks down Taylor Drive, she keeps an eye out for Jesse Archer,  but she doesn’t see him. Just past his block there is a cluster of old oak trees between the final stretch of Taylor Drive and the vast expanse of fields and hills behind it. She walks among them, staring up at the power lines connecting the flats to the houses via various poles.

She feels defeated before it’s even begun. The town is full of trees but what chance do they have of finding one close to a power line? One ready to topple? Willow has also considered that a straight neat cut through with the chainsaw will look very suspicious indeed when people come to investigate the power outage. She wishes for a storm, a genuine power cut but knows she is being childish. Nothing is going to land in their laps. They have to make this happen.

A trio of magpies jump from branch to branch, their black and white feathers standing out against a bruised blue sky. The weather has not made its mind up yet. It’s hanging there, waiting for a mood to develop. She drifts between the trees, not expecting anything good to happen.

Her mood has been flagging all week. She misses Paddy more than she thought possible. She feels lost without him, like someone has cut off one of her limbs. Everywhere she goes she sees a memory of him, of them. Even these old oaks. She remember Paddy trying to make a treehouse in one before his dad let him make one in the back garden at home. He always had loved a treehouse – a bird’s eye view, a way to be closer to the sky and the stars.

Willow stops – her heart feels too heavy to move – and leans against a tree. Where are you Paddy? Where did you go? Are you okay? Are you ever coming back? Last night she attempted to feel close to him by trying to write more of their story, but the words just wouldn’t come. It’s usually her that writes while Paddy sits and throws ideas around verbally. He can never get the wording quite right, she thinks now, yet his ideas were always good. They worked well together like that. Sometimes she had even entertained the thought of finishing the story and getting it published one day. Now, that all feels very far away. Impossible almost.

As the singer in her ears begs to be remembered, Willow almost crumbles. She can’t bear the thought that he’s gone. She has to hold onto the mystery as something that they can solve, if they just work together. Everyone else might have given up, but she hasn’t. She won’t. Not ever.

She thinks the others feel the same. None of them knew Paddy like she did but they all seem so connected somehow – to him, to each other, to something. Willow has to admit she’s been enjoying their company and she’s impressed with their collective skills and determination but how long can it last? Won’t they get bored eventually?

Willow feels like the town is already moving away from the fate of Paddy Finnis. There are no more talks of searches, just the vigil at the church this Sunday and the murmurings she keeps hearing that kids do run off from time to time…

Even her parents seem keen to put it behind them, she thinks. It happens, she heard her father say earlier, it’s not that unusual. They’re still worried about her, still checking on her and sighing sadly whenever she mentions him, but they never bring Paddy up themselves, she’s noticed. It’s almost as if they want to avoid the conversation if they can.

It’s not right, she thinks angrily, none of this is right. She starts to leave, stomping through the wet leaves towards Walkers Road, intent on skirting around the edge of town until she can pick up High Street and head to school. She stops suddenly, just as she steps away from the cluster of oaks. There is one a little way out from the others. It’s smaller than the rest, less of a hulking beast, more of a shy adolescent. She can see power lines running through two of the biggest boughs. Her mouth drops open. They won’t even have to cut the whole tree down, which is something she knows Paddy would hate.

She can barely believe it and probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t exited the trees on that particular side. She raises her fist in triumph. It’s a win and she’ll take it.

She then remember that this takes them one step closer to breaking into Sergeant Mayfield’s house and her breath hitches in her chest as a shudder wrings through her. Correction – Jesse is one step closer.

No, she corrects herself again – I won’t let him do it alone.

4

Jaime scurries along High Street with the ‘Brief History Of Black Hare Valley’ tucked under one arm. She read it in one sitting and was not terribly impressed. In her opinion, it’s rather badly written, self-congratulatory and a bit boring. She has made notes, of course – anything is worth adding to the on-going investigation – but it was mostly a letdown. One thing that stuck out was the familiar names who helped to build the town. Spires, Mayfield, and Sumner, for example, are names that go back thousands of years. Jaime finds that both fascinating and disturbing in equal measures.

She plans to hand it back in and then head to school. She knows Miss Spires will be watching like a hawk again. Just then, she sees the library doors open and Miss Spires strides out, pulling on a coat. She doesn’t see Jaime, but heads up the High Street, perhaps towards the Post Office with a stack of letters under one arm.

Jaime does not hesitate. She dashes into the library, adds the book to the Returns pile on the front desk where a weary looking girl in her late teens nods and smiles, then heads back over to the local history and folklore section.

Jaime takes her time, checking every book that appears old with yellowed pages, or has an aged leather cover. She finds one called ‘Local Folklore’, and another called ‘The Witch of The Valley’ and tucks them both under her arm. Finally, she finds one about the traditions of the area. None of them are like the book Mr Finnis described but they’ll do for now. She knows Spires will see that she checked them out, but what can she do? It’s innocent enough and after all, Miss Spires was the one who pointed her towards the Local History section. She checks them out, stuffs them into her backpack and leaves the library in a hurry.

Jaime feels exhilarated as she dashes down the High Street, and crosses over to take the left onto School Lane. She’s thinking about the school library and how there might be a book like Paddy’s there, or how maybe she can find out what his lending history is… Her heart is pounding and she’s breathless as she hurries down to the school and through the open gates. She runs over to the bike sheds and bumps straight into Willow. For once, Willow appears animated and excited, happy even. She plants her hands on Jaime’s shoulders just as Jaime seizes hold of her forearms.

‘I found a tree!’

‘I got more books!’

‘What? Like Paddy’s?’

‘No, but close maybe, I don’t know. What tree? Will it work?’ They huddle together, shoulder to shoulder.

‘Yes, I think so,’ says Willow, catching her breath. ‘It’s close to Jesse’s place. A young oak with power lines going between two branches.’

Jaime stares, open-mouthed. ‘We might not need to cut one down? I was getting worried about that.’

‘No, we probably just need to cut through one branch, maybe two.’

Jaime nods, grinning. ‘Ralph can do it. We need to find them and plan it all out properly. Have you seen either of them?’

Willow shakes her head and walks to the end of the shed. ‘Oh shit,’ she says.

‘What?’ Jaime rushes to join her, peering over her shoulder just in time to see a mud-splattered Jesse Archer getting out of a police car in the staff car park.

‘Oh God, what the hell?’ hisses Jaime

‘What’s he done now? He’s covered in mud!’

‘Why’s he with Mayfield? Oh! Black Hare Cottage! D’you think he did it?’

‘I don’t know.’ Willow shakes her head. ‘They’ve gone inside. We’ll have to find him later and arrange somewhere to talk. Any ideas?’

‘The tree?’

‘Yes! If you see Ralph or Jesse, tell them it’s the cluster of oaks closest to the end of Taylor Drive. We’ll meet there after dark, okay? Go over the plan and get it tight.’

They nod at each other, give each other a sudden, brief hug and then quickly go their separate ways.

5

‘It’s nice of you to vouch for him, Sergeant Mayfield.’ Mr Bishop shoots a hard look at a sullen-faced Jesse before arranging a pleasant smile for the sergeant. ‘And to give him a lift in as well. You’re too good to us, really. Far too good.’

Sergeant Mayfield keeps his narrowed blue eyes on Jesse as if expecting to have to race after him at any second, but he returns the easy smile to Mr Bishop.

‘Just doing my job, Mr Bishop. Like yourself, I happen to care deeply about this town and everyone in it.’

‘Indeed.’ Mr Bishop stands behind his desk and plants his hands down on it. ‘Now, I suppose the real question is what do we do with you, Jesse Archer?’

Jesse keeps his eyes on the floor. He can’t bear to look at either of these men. They have both made his life a misery for as long as he can remember. They both make his skin crawl. They both feature in his nightmares. He feels their intense, questioning glares and responds with a half-hearted shrug.

Sergeant Mayfield clears his throat. ‘Well, it’s not all the boy’s fault, of course. There is a lot of neglect at home.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Mr Bishop bows his head gravely but there is a twinkle in his eye. ‘I had caught wind of that. Perhaps you’d like to talk through any difficulties you’re having with Mr Hewlett, Jesse? That is what he’s here for.’

Jesse stares longingly at the door and shakes his head. ‘No thanks. I’m not having difficulties.’

‘Well, I’d have to disagree,’ says Mayfield with authority. He looks to Bishop. ‘His father is in one of my cells again and the general consensus is someone really ought to step in and provide this boy with some guidance.’

‘Yes,’ agrees Bishop, his head bobbing as he stares at Jesse. His voice has taken on a dreamy tone. ‘Someone should. So he doesn’t get tempted into any more trouble.’

‘We’d like to see a future for him, wouldn’t we, Mr Bishop?’

‘Oh, yes. Yes, we really would like to turn him around.’

Jesse knows he cannot stand this a second longer. The room feels too hot and too small, like the walls are closing in. He feels something intense rising in the air around him. He can’t look at either man, yet he feels terribly and horribly sure that they both want to eat him alive. In his mind’s eye he pictures their jaws yawning open, revealing pointed teeth and stringy drool as they start to laugh.

He leans over his knees and groans in pain. ‘I think I’m gonna be sick!’

6

Ralph is almost knocked off his feet when the door to the boys’ toilets is shoved open with great urgency. He staggers backwards, bumping into the row of sinks as the desperate boy charges in. When he sees who it is, Ralph steps forward then instinctively stands in front of the door as it swings shut again.

‘Jesse!’ he hisses.

Jesse spins around, then leans over, clutching his knees. ‘Shit, Ralph!’ He shakes his hair from his eyes and despite his obvious fear, he grins. ‘I think Bishop and Mayfield wanted to eat me!’

Horrified, Ralph stares at him, his back pressed into the door. ‘What?’

Jesse laughs. He straightens up, still catching his breath as he runs both hands through his hair until it stands up in spikes. ‘Jesus fucking Christ…’

Ralph looks him up and down. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

Jesse’s grin drops away. He goes to each cubicle in turn, kicking the doors open until he is satisfied that they are alone. Then he steps closer to Ralph and lowers his voice.

‘I did the job for Mayfield and fell over. Then he picked me up and brought me here, right to Mr fucking Bishop! Can you believe that shit?’

Ralph stares, eyes wide. ‘What did they say?’

Jesse starts to pace, one hand in his hair again. ‘That they wanted to help me, straighten me out… Fuck, I don’t want them to help me. I don’t want anyone in this town to help me. I just want to find Paddy and then…’

‘Then what?’

Jesse frowns, his eyes darkening. ‘Then just go… get the hell out and never come back. That’s what I want to do.’

Ralph nods slowly. ‘It’s okay.’ He doesn’t know what else to say. Can’t think of the right words. Can’t imagine at all what words Jesse would want to hear right now. He fumbles desperately for something, anything, and then finally, stumbles on just saying out loud what he has been thinking this entire time, what he has been unable to stop thinking, what keeps him awake at night. ‘I think there’s something wrong with this town.’

Jesse stops pacing and watches him, waiting for more.

‘I don’t know what,’ Ralph goes on. ‘I can’t explain it. But I feel it. I think… It’s not just Paddy… It’s bigger than that but him going missing is part of it, and that book he had. It has to be important.’

Ralph steps forward, closing the gap between he and Jesse until they are almost chest to chest. He feels the urge to scan the room carefully, checking for cameras, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Jesse’s face.

‘I think Paddy discovered something,’ Ralph whispers. ‘I think maybe he found something important in that book and they, whoever they are, they found out and they took him because he knew something. I know it sounds crazy, Jesse, but I can’t stop thinking it.’

Jesse stares at him for a long moment, his arms at his sides, his fists balled. Then he passes Ralph and reaches for the door handle.

‘We’ve got to get that book back,’ he says grimly, lips pressed together. ‘We have to do whatever it takes. I think you’re right, Ralph.’

7

They make their way separately to the meeting place and arrive one by one to stand, solemn and heavy, under the boughs of the oaks. The ground under their feet is flat and boggy; the floor a mush of wet leaves and mud. Above them, the oak leaves are a deep dark green, almost startling in their vibrancy.

All around them is the smell of both rebirth and decay. Through the trees they can see the lights of the town, flicking on as dark descends. The flats on Taylor Drive and the more upmarket detached homes on Lupin Lane. The four of them feel undeniably shut out.

Willow speaks first, her cloak clutched to her chest with thin pale fingers, her hood pulled up over her loose black hair and her headphones visible around her neck.

‘I’ll show you the tree in a minute,’ she begins. ‘But first, we have to decide who does what and at what times exactly.’

‘We need a distraction in town first,’ Jesse speaks up. ‘I’ll ask my brothers to start a fight in the pub.’

Jaime nods. ‘Mayfield is in almost every night with Hewlett and Bishop and there’s a band playing tomorrow night.’

‘What time?’

‘They’re booked to start playing at 8pm and Mayfield is usually in just before that.’ Jaime exhales, eyes darting away for a moment. ‘Usually, anyway. I can keep an eye on them. If Ralph is arriving at mine, he can leave then and get to the tree. Your brothers only need to fight if it looks like Mayfield is about to leave early, or if he doesn’t show up.’

‘You better hide the chainsaw out here beforehand,’ Willow tells Ralph, ‘otherwise you’ll look suspicious walking over to Jaime’s with it.’

‘Okay. No problem. I’ll do it in the morning.’

They all nod and look back at Willow. ‘Ralph leaves the pub as soon as Mayfield arrives. I’ll be waiting in the café. Walk past and give me a wave, okay Ralph?’

‘Okay,’ he nods. ‘Then carry on to the tree?’

‘Yes.’ She turns to Jesse. ‘You and me meet in the alley behind the chemist. We go around to the back of the station house and break in once the power has gone out.’

‘What do the rest of us do then?’ Ralph asks, nervously.

‘Just head home and act innocent,’ shrugs Jesse.

Jaime turns to Willow. ‘If you get the book and get out without being seen or anything, what then? Where do we take it?’

‘Good questions,’ says Ralph. ‘They’ll know. Mayfield will know it’s gone and they’ll be looking for it.’

‘The committee, you mean?’ frowns Jaime. ‘We really do think they’re all involved?’

‘Well, not your mum, obviously,’ smiles Ralph. He looks at Jesse for support.

‘We better assume they are, for now,’ agrees Jesse. ‘Maybe only because that bastard Mayfield has something on them or maybe because they’re just like him.’

‘Okay.’ Willow brings them back on track. ‘So, where do we take it? Where can we hide it?’

‘Are there any cameras at mine?’ Ralph asks Jesse with a grimace.

He shakes his head. ‘No, but your mum works for the mayor.’

‘What about mine?’ asks Willow.

Jesse appears to think it over. ‘I’ve never put one there but he might have, I don’t know.’

‘The treehouse?’ says Jaime, eyebrows raised in hope.

‘Won’t he look there first?’ Ralph asks.

Jesse looks unsettled. ‘If the book is as important as we think it is, he’ll tear the whole town apart to find it.’

‘Your flat?’ suggests Willow.

He snorts. ‘No chance.’

They stare at each other in frustration. For a moment, no one speaks. They are all frowning, trying and failing to think of a safe place to stash the book.

‘Maybe we don’t need to keep it,’ Jaime says slowly, as if feeling her way for the answer as she speaks. ‘Maybe we just need to copy it. A bit like with that camera, Jesse. We don’t need to keep the book, we just need to see what’s in it.’

Willow’s eyes fly open and she seizes Jaime’s shoulders. ‘You are an utter genius!’

Jaime blushes. ‘Thanks!’

Willow turns to Jesse. ‘Where can we photocopy all the pages as fast as possible?’

He already knows the answer. ‘Hairy Dave can do that.’

Now they all fall quiet again; locked in a hushed silence as their thrashed out plans hang in the air around them. They look at each other curiously. It feels certain now. They really are going to break into a policeman’s house and try to steal back a mysterious book that may or may not help them find Paddy…

Jesse steps back, hands deep in pockets. ‘I’ll speak to Dave and see if I can do another trade with him.’ He looks over his shoulder. ‘We need to be realistic though. This could go horribly wrong.’ His eyes dart to Ralph’s. ‘Ralph has a bad feeling about this town and so do I. I have for a long time.’

Willow knows what he means. ‘I liked it okay when Paddy was here,’ she says in a low voice. ‘But now I think that was just because of him and all the fun we had growing up together.’

‘My step-dad is in love with this place, he constantly says what a great place this is to grow up,’ says Jaime.

‘It is,’ Jesse grins at her, ‘if you don’t break the rules.’

‘I always liked it too,’ admits Ralph. ‘It felt safe because everywhere you go, someone knows you. Sure, there are idiots and bullies and grumpy adults, but that’s no different to anywhere else. It is a beautiful place though. It is. I just started to feel different when I found the footprint.’

‘Do you think its related?’ wonders Jaime.

Ralph nods instantly, but reluctantly. ‘Yeah, I do. I know it sounds crazy but I do. When Jesse said he felt something chasing him, and that night at the ruins, I swear I felt something too. I don’t know what.’

‘You think some sort of beast could be out there?’ Jaime looks nervously over her shoulder before huddling closer to the others. ‘And maybe Paddy found out about it?’

‘Maybe.’ Ralph shrugs unhappily.

‘And there was a weird hare this morning,’ Jesse exclaims suddenly, yanking his hands out of his pockets and folding his arms.

Jaime grabs his arm, gasping. ‘A hare? What hare?’

‘A white one,’ he replies, frowning as her eyes grow wider. ‘When I was in the cottage putting in Mayfield’s camera, it appeared behind me. Right in the kitchen! I’ve never seen a white hare before in my life. I didn’t know they even existed, but there it was, just staring at me! No fear whatsoever. I mean, if anything it seemed pissed off.’

‘Oh my god,’ whispers Willow.

Jaime squeezes Jesse’s arm, dragging his attention back to her. ‘I saw a white one too! After the ruins, after Ralph said goodbye. I looked up and it was on the corner of the High Street just looking at me.’

Jesse’s jaw drops. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yes! I ran towards it and it ran down the High Street and I saw it disappear into those woods near the church. It was… I don’t know…. Sort of magical…’

Jesse is watching her carefully. ‘Did you feel afraid?’

She thinks back then shakes her head. ‘No. I don’t think so. Did you?’

He nods. ‘Yeah. The way it looked at me. And I was in the old woman’s house…’

They all look at each other, shaking their heads, blinking, expressions dazed, then solemn again as the darkness thickens around them.

‘We just have to get that book,’ Willow sighs after a while. She doesn’t even want to imagine what they’ll do if it’s not in Mayfield’s house.

Thanks for reading!

Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this latest chapter.

NOTE: Please remember this is NOT the finished version of Black Hare Valley Book 1. This book has not been to my editor yet or even my beta readers. There will be typos, grammatical mistakes, and sentences that need rewriting.

COMING NEXT THURSDAY: Chapter Twelve “The Plan”