The Moon Spun Round Read Free Page A

everything seems to be working OK now, thank goodness.’ Sitting comfortably in the rocker, Sally is enjoying her hard-won mug of tea.
    Abbie prefers to sip hers perched on the edge of the table. She’s older than Sally, at least forty judging by the grey streaks in her sun-bleached hair and the way her pale blue eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles. Her face and hands are tanned with large freckles running into blotches. And yet her skin looks healthy, as if she spends time in the open air. Not like Sally’s indoor, fluorescent-tube complexion.
    ‘So you own a horse, do you?’ Sally asks.
    ‘Several, actually. I run a small riding school. The paddocks behind this place are ours—you can see the horses from your bedroom window. I hire them out and give lessons to the local kids. Do you ride?’
    ‘God no, I’ve never been near a horse.’
    ‘Pity. There are some lovely bridle paths around here. Great way to see the countryside. I do take beginners out, though. Not a proper lesson, just a gentle saunter across the fields. Perfectly safe.’
    ‘I think we’d better stick to walking, thanks all the same. But I would like to do some exploring over the weekend. That’s assuming Jonathan ever gets here.’
    ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right here tonight?’ Abbie seems genuinely concerned.
    ‘Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I feel perfectly at home already. And there’s always the cat for company.’
    ‘You’ve brought your cat with you?’
    ‘Oh, no. Sitting tenant. Perhaps you’d know about it? Scraggy-looking grey thing. I think it must have belonged to the previous owner—Martha, wasn’t it?’
    ‘No,’ Abbie laughed, ‘not possible. Old Martha died twenty years ago.’
    ‘Oh, but I thought…The woman in the shop said that Martha was the previous owner and the cottage has been empty since she died.’
    ‘Yes, that’s right. Apart from short stays, it’s been unoccupied most of that time. Not surprising really. It wasn’t in good repair and the family just let it fall apart. In the end Trevor—Martha was his great-aunt or something—well, he decided to renovate. He was going to live in it.’
    ‘Must have cost a fortune.’
    ‘He owns a building company, so that helps. Even so, it didn’t come cheap.’
    ‘But he changed his mind?’
    ‘Yes, he was dead keen at first. Then, when it was nearly finished, he suddenly put it on the market. He didn’t really explain why. I know he was very fond of the old girl.’
    ‘The woman in the shop told me that the old lady died here and that Trevor found her.’
    ‘Oh, you’ve met our Ruth, have you?’ laughed Abbie. ‘She’s a dear, but she does go on a bit. She’s certainly right about Trevor finding her. He was only a boy at the time and he used to visit her, about the only person who did.’
    ‘You remember her, then?’
    ‘Of course. She was known locally as Mad Martha. Us kids were sure she was a witch. We lived at the other end of the village then—my parents still do—but we’d come this way after school. A big group of us, mind; never on our own. We’d dare each other to get close to the house. When we were feeling especially brave, we’d throw rotten apples at her door until she came out and chased us off. I was terrified she’d set her cat on us.’
    ‘Her cat?’
    ‘Yes,’ Abbie laughed. ‘Vicious-looking thing. Now I come to think of it, it does sound like the one you’ve met. Probably one of its descendants. Actually the place was running with them, but this one was special. People said it had the evil eye or something.’
    ‘Is that why the cottage didn’t sell?’
    ‘Doubt it. No, I think Trevor’s timing was bad, hit a recession in house prices. I expect he’ll try again when the market picks up. Meantime he’s letting it out as holiday accommodation.’
    ‘So it’s still for sale then?’
    ‘Yes, I suppose so. Not thinking of buying, are you?’
    ‘No way. We’re both city birds. Need a