Haunted Fields by Dan Moore Page B

shivered. He guided her out into the night, the street deserted. Lucas was nowhere to be seen.
    â€˜What was all that about?’ he asked.
    â€˜Oh, nothing really! He just does my head in sometimes. He’s all show, you know. It’s like he feels he’s got something to prove to me all the time. I just want him to be him . I’m probably not making any sense. It’s been a long day!’
    They walked up the street, passing curtained windows, many houses already in darkness. Freddie’s knees ached, his ankles a little stiff. The walk back to the farm, the climb in particular, didn’t appeal to him. He wanted his bed – though walking arm in arm with Jess was a pleasant substitute. He’d make do with a little less sleep.
    â€˜I know what you mean.’
    Does he? He wasn’t sure. Appeasing her seemed the best option. A wave of guilt washed over him. He had to admit, he liked it when she was angry with Lucas.
    â€˜And there’s another thing,’ Jess reluctantly said.
    â€˜Oh, what’s that?’
    â€˜He thinks I like you.’
    Freddie hadn’t expected this. Talk about a bolt from the blue. He gulped. He could feel his face reddening, pinpricks of heat flaring up like tiny sunspots. He gulped again.
    â€˜And what did you say?’
    â€˜I told him to stop being stupid.’
    His head dropped.
    â€˜Oh.’
    â€˜That’s what I told him anyway, the truth is–’
    â€˜Yes?’ he said, ceasing his ascent.
    â€˜Freddie, I – I,’ she said, halting, stuttering as she glanced up to the sky, high above the hillside. Freddie followed her gaze. A flickering glow danced across the clouds. ‘Tell me I’m being thick. Doesn’t the sun set in the west?’
    What on earth has this got to do with the question Lucas had asked her? wondered Freddie. What had this got to do with the possibility of Jess liking him? Spit it out! His heart thumped against his chest like a caged monster. Expectant. Hungry.
    â€˜Yeah, the sun sets in the west. And long before now. Red sky at night…’
    He froze, shivering despite the warmth of the night, despite the clamminess besieging him. Normally the sight of a glowing sky wouldn’t strike him as abnormal. Towns and cities created such an effect on the night sky. But no built up area large enough to create such a glow existed for nearly twenty miles in that direction.
    â€˜No!’ said Jess, lifting a hand to cover her gaping mouth. ‘Please. No!’
    But he knew what had caused the fire in the sky; deep down he knew Ridge Farm had suffered a terrible blow, a blow that could very well tip it over the edge of the precipice.

12
    He galloped like a racehorse bearing down on the winning post. Glancing frequently over his shoulder he could see that Jess was keeping up with him, a constant dozen-or-so lengths back. As they left Ravenby-le-Wold’s cosy, well-kept cottages behind, the steep, twisting lanes passed by in a mad blur. A sharp incline on Freddie’s right blocked Ridge Farm from view.
    â€˜Please! Please don’t be the farm!’ What had he done? He’d meant well. He’d tried his hardest, put his own sweat and tears into the place. He cared about the farm, and about the family. He felt a part of their life.
    He neared the summit He could hear Jess’s footsteps on the road behind him, pleas mirroring his own silent ones reaching his ears. Tarmac flew by under his feet, a dark path leading him to the beast. Yet he didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Time had slowed to a painful crawl, and for no other reason than to prolong their suffering.
    Suddenly his senses awoke. A cruel spitting sound sought him out. Smoke tickled his nostrils. The glow reflected in the clouds forced his hands up to shield his eyes. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know. Yet he had to. The family needed him. He prayed that flames were licking their way