Cherringham--The Curse of Mabb's Farm Read Online Free Page B

battlefield, and to the front door.
    Outside, Jack turned to Sarah.
    For a moment he could imagine the village of some four hundred years ago. The carts, the horses, people bustling about much as today.
    But it would have been a time of fear as well, human life so cheap, what with wars and diseases and the daily struggle simply to survive.
    No wonder they held onto superstitions. Life and death must have seemed so random and unpredictable.
    “Quite an engaging fellow,” he said.
    “Knows his local history, that’s for sure. What do you think — should we go see those stones, then drop in on Charlie and Caitlin Fox?”
    Jack squinted against the golden-yellow sun.
    “Sure. Be good to see the place linked to the ‘Curse’. Then we can try and talk to the farmer.”
    “Try?”
    Jack nodded. “I dunno. Something about this is — well — odd.”
    “Getting superstitious, are we?”
    Another grin. “No. But they could have gone to the police. Instead, it’s almost as if they have something to hide.”
    He watched Sarah’s smile fade. “You know I’m getting used to these ‘instincts’ of yours. Like a sixth sense …”
    Jack laughed. “More witchcraft!”
    “Seriously. They usually lead to something.”
    “Chalk it up to experience. Either way, even if it’s nothing, I’d love to see a site that dates back to the Neolithic time.”
    “Which was when?”
    “Around 10,000 BC it began — along with farming.”
    “Jack, you never cease to surprise me.”
    “And I’m surprised you never went to the stones, even as a kid?”
    “My crowd was into different Stones”
    Jack laughed. “I bet you were. I’ll drive.”
    They walked over to his Sprite. Standing out amid so many SUVs and compacts, the sports car was a throwback to a different era … of cars, of driving … maybe even — he often thought — of life.
    “Can you get us there or should I turn on the nice new GPS lady?”
    “Don’t worry, Jack. I know how you hate that thing. Turn around, and head west out of the village.”
    “Hey — you sound just like her …”
    Jack pulled out of the space, and did a U-turn, heading away from Goodchild’s house and the village.

6. Mabb’s Circle
    They parked beside a broken fence that marked one end of the farm’s property, on a road that led to Charlie Fox’s farm.
    From where they stopped, a broad meadow led up to the hill they had just seen on Will Goodchild’s battlefield.
    The hill was crowned with woodland, just as it had been in the time of Cromwell.
    Jack ran his hand over the splintered wooden rails, some broken in half, others missing sections completely.
    This was a fence definitely in need of repair.
    “Guess Charlie isn’t one for maintenance.”
    Sarah found a spot where the fence consisted of a single rail, and she easily stepped over it. “The stones must be on top of the hill. Can’t see them from here.”
    Jack looked around. “Nice.”
    Sarah started walking across the meadow, the assorted grasses coming up to her knee. The heavy grass was wet with the rain of the last few weeks.
    Jack walked beside her, with his long strides, taking a slower pace. “See — this is something we wouldn’t do back home, not anymore.”
    “Really? A lovely walk in a meadow, why ever not?”
    “Lyme disease. Carried by deer ticks. Nasty stuff. Can’t go hardly anywhere in the northeast that doesn’t have the deer ticks.”
    “We get them in England too. New Forest, for example. Not so much here. At least I don’t think so.”
    “Probably because you don’t have deer wandering around as much as we do.”
    Jack stopped just as they reached a spot where the meadow turned into a gentle hill.
    “You know, this land… This could be farmed, right?”
    Sarah laughed. “If you’re asking me farming questions, you have the wrong girl. But I guess you’d need the right equipment, the workers. Could be just the things that Charlie doesn’t have.”
    Jack nodded then started up the hill.
    In