‘Trying to do too much. I might say something to Mrs May when I go up to the big house.’ The following summer — or maybe it was the summer after that — Charlie and I spent quite a bit of time following Shadrach around. He let us help him round up the sheep when it was time for shearing. And he let us help with various odd jobs in the woods. And several times he just went to sleep in the middle of talking to us. When he woke up again, he always seemed just a little bit surprised that we were there. ‘What?’ he would say in a startled way. It became a sort of a joke between the three of us. What? And then one day, towards the end of summer, Shadrach didn’t just stop in mid-sentence, he fell over. He was right in the middle of telling us how to do something — I can’t remember exactly what — and he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. At first I thought that he had died. He just collapsed the way a rabbit collapsed when Uncle Fred shot one. But then I noticed that Shadrach’s hands and feet. His senses were sharp and fully in focus. He felt the crispness of the night air. He felt the dampness of the grass sticking up between his toes. He heard an owl hooting in a nearby copse.She waited for him on a raised gravestone. Her narrow face was whiter than the moon and glowed with its own luminescence. Her long black hair was swept back and flowed down between her shoulders like a waterfall of shadows. Hers was a cruel beauty; icy, perfect and utterly irresistible.A shawl or cloak, raven-black like her hair, was wrapped around her pale body. Mike saw only the tops of her pale shoulders. A pale white hand emerged from the darkness. She looked down at Mike with cold blue eyes and beckoned him with an elegant finger. Caught, hooked like a fish, he couldn't resist and stumbled up the small rise towards her. She smiled with full lips the colour of a bruise.Mike didn't know what he was doing here or even if this was real. All he knew was he had to go to her, to be with her, fulfil.
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