Spider Light(102)

Maud had known that there was something wrong with mamma ever since she had come into her bedroom. But now she could hear that her voice was too high, there was a cracked sound to it as if something deep inside her had splintered like when you broke a glass.

The giants were listening. Several of them had tilted their heads to one side, as if they were trying to understand. One of them, sitting at one end of the table, got up and came towards them. Maud stifled a cry because he was so tall and had shaggy hair like a thatched roof, and his hands were clenching and unclenching. Huge hands, with massive knuckles and thick nails.

There was a dreadful moment when she thought mamma was going to stay where she was, facing the man who was coming towards her. Maud glanced fearfully up and saw mamma staring at him with a look of such fear she thought mamma might be about to swoon. Maud tugged on mamma’s hand to make her come away. She thought mamma said, ‘Yes. It was you. Then this is your daughter,’ but she was never afterwards sure if she had only imagined this.

After a moment mamma seemed to realize the danger, and turned and ran hard down the passage, half dragging Maud with her. Twice Maud stumbled and almost fell but each time mamma jerked her up and they ran on.

He was following them. Maud did not need to hear the thudding footsteps; she knew he was coming after them. When they reached the little door where they had come in she glanced back, and he was still there, the thick hair flopping over his face, grinning and reaching out his hands to them.

Mamma scooped Maud up in her arms, and carried her outside. Then she began to run towards the gates.

Whether the man meant them any harm, or whether he was simply seizing the chance of freedom–whether his mind was, in fact, as distorted as his body–Maud, at eight, had not known. Thinking back, she still did not know.

The lodge-keeper must have seen them coming along the carriage-way because he came out to them. Maud had no idea if he meant to stop them, but her mother suddenly slowed to an ordinary walk and when they were near enough to be heard, she called out, ‘Could you let us out again, please? We have delivered our message.’ Her voice sounded normal and the lodge-keeper tipped his cap and went over to the massive bolts, drawing them back. It seemed to take ages; Maud willed him to hurry, but he was fumbling and the minutes stretched out and out. Maud’s mother glanced over her shoulder, and Maud did the same. Supposing the man had followed them? But nothing moved anywhere and in another minute they would be through the gates and they would be on the way home.

The gates finally opened. The lodge-keeper smiled at Maud as they walked through and Maud smiled back a bit uncertainly. They were outside, and they were safe. When she glanced back the lodge-keeper was standing there waving to them so she waved back.

Mamma did not speak as they went along, but she held Maud’s hand very tightly, and her hand was cold and trembly. Maud wondered if she dared ask about the man, but she was afraid mamma’s voice might take on the dreadful mad sound again so she said nothing. They were just over the little crossroads, and nearing the turning to Scraptoft Lane when a figure stepped out from behind a tree. The man was in front of them, barring their way.

There was no time to wonder what had happened or how he had got out. Mamma gasped, and then keeping tight hold of Maud’s hand began to run back the way they had come. The lane was bumpy and rutted; Maud stumbled several times and struggled to keep up. She thought the man was following them, but surely at any minute they would be bound to meet someone who would help them–a carter or a farmer about an early-morning task.

But there was no one. There were not even any cottages where they might have knocked on the door and asked to be taken inside. Her mother hesitated, and then took the road that led past Twygrist. ‘We’ll have to go this way,’ she said, gasping with the effort of running. ‘We can’t go home because he’s behind us. Blocking the way. So we’ll go towards Amberwood Magna–there are houses just beyond the bridge. We’ll ask for help at one of them.’

‘I can’t run any more–mamma, I can’t—’

‘Then I must carry you.’ But they had only gone a very short way before mamma had to set Maud down and double over, gasping for breath. The bridge was still some way ahead of them and clearly they were not going to reach it before the man caught them. There was only one building along this stretch of the road where they might hide. Twygrist.

Mamma, still struggling to get her breath, stared at it, and when Maud said, ‘In there? Can we hide in there?’ she shuddered. But then she said, ‘Yes. Yes,’ there’s nowhere else.’



They had gone up the slope together and in through the door–Maud could not remember now if it had been open or if her mother had broken the lock to get them in–and then they had been in the safe dark silence of the mill. Mamma pushed the door nearly closed, and they stood behind it.

‘We’ll stay here, Maud. He won’t see us and even if he does, he won’t dare come inside. He must have slipped through the gates while the lodge-keeper was waving to us, that’s what must have happened.’

Her voice was strained and frightened and Maud saw she was listening very hard for the sound of footsteps. Maud was listening for them as well, but everywhere was quiet.

Her mother peered through the chink in the nearly closed door, and said suddenly, ‘He’s coming. Oh God, he’s coming. We’ll have to hide–but where? Where?’