May had barely finished when the doctor arrived. He examined her, thanked Eileen and approved her treatment, and promised to look in again later in the evening about nine o'clock. He was obviously a friend, and Eileen wondered if he, too, was a witch; she could not help noticing that he never mentioned the police, not even to ask if they had been informed. Witch or not, he must know the local situation – and it seemed that May had not been exaggerating.

After the doctor had left, May asked slowly but clearly: 'Eileen – Angela – you've been right good, an' I'm grateful. Would you do just one other thing – please?'

They both said 'Of course'.

May went on: 'Just sit with me for an hour or two. Jimmy an' our friends, they got a job to do.'

They looked at Jimmy, surprised, and Eileen asked: 'You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean, of course we'll stay, if May wants – but it's you May will be needing over the next days and weeks, and you wouldn't be much help to her in jail would you?'

Jimmy looked her in the eyes and told her: 'I know that, don't you fret. The job's right there beyond that wall, in the next cottage. You need me, you bang twice on the wall, an' I'll be here in no time. But don't you bang unless that's real urgent. That job shouldn't rightly be disturbed in the middle, see?'

Eileen didn't see but she caught May's pleading look and nodded to Jimmy. Jimmy leaned over and kissed his wife, taking her face in both his large hands. Then he said, 'Thank you both,' and was gone. '

Over the next twenty minutes they saw, through the window, at least a dozen men and women arrive at the next-door cottage-May appeared to be' asleep, so they could do nothing but wait and wonder. No more people came next door and for a while there was silence. Then their ears picked up what sounded like a low, rhythmic murmur from a number of voices, more like a vocal drum-beat than a chant. After a gradual crescendo, it stopped dead; they thought they could hear movements and the clink of metal against metal; then again silence.

May opened her eyes and smiled. 'He'll be back now.'

Miss Smith asked, 'How do you know?', but May did not answer.

A minute later Jimmy walked in and said pleasantly: 'I reckon you'd like something to eat now, wouldn't you? Mrs Wainwright next door, she's cooking for all of us. Half an hour, she says. How'd you like to try May's elderberry wine, while you're waiting? That's middlin' good.'

While they drank May's elderberry which Miss Smith pronounced more than middling good, Jimmy apologized for not having spare beds but said they were welcome to put their caravan in the field on the other side of the cottage as it was getting a bit late for them to move on tonight.

May had brightened a lot and even joked about not being allowed wine on top of the sedatives she'd had. By the time Mrs Wainwright produced her substantial meal, they were chatting happily about safe subjects – Miss Smith in particular enjoying herself exchanging country lore with Jimmy.

It was nearly ten before the doctor came back.

'Sorry I was held up,' he said as he timed May's pulse. 'I got called to the sergeant's house – you know, the new fellow. Heart attack. No apparent cause – he was sitting down watching telly at the time. I had to get an ambulance to whip him off to Ipswich General. Reckon he won't be back on duty for a month or two at least – and then they'll probably give him a desk job… Well, young lady, I'm very pleased with you. Picking up nicely. What you need now's a good night's sleep and I'll be round to see you in the morning. Here's some calamine for that sunburn and a couple of knock-me-out pills to take when you're ready to settle down.'

On the way out, he turned and said casually: 'I wonder if they'll send old Sergeant Wells back? Everyone was sorry to sec him go. Knew our ways, that man did.'

When he had gone, Jimmy and May gave each other a secret smile. Eileen and Miss Smith said nothing because neither of them knew what to say.

Next morning was a Saturday, so Jimmy was off work without having to ask for it. The doctor, though still pleased with May, told her to stay in bed, so Miss Smith and Eileen said good-bye to her indoors.

As Jimmy walked with them to the caravan, Eileen asked suddenly: 'Jimmy, do you trust me?'

Jimmy grinned. 'That's a damn fool question after all you done for May.'

'Right then, listen to me. If the earthquakes come back, watch out for a kind of mist or Dust that comes up out of cracks in the ground. It's absolutely deadly. But you can protect yourself by breathing through gauze soaked in vinegar, while the Dust's visible and for at least a couple of hours afterwards. Please believe that I know what I'm talking about. See that everyone you care for has gauze and vinegar handy from now on. But don't say who told you.'

'You haven't told many people about it, have you?' Jimmy asked, looking at her shrewdly.

'No. I worked for a while, after the Midsummer quakes, at a place where they were investigating the Dust, and that was about the only thing they'd found out about it by the time I left. And every time I tell someone, I'm leaving" a clue which could put them on my trail.'

'Then I am grateful. We'll remember.'

They climbed in, waved to him, and set off for the Midlands.

9

Moira jumped involuntarily when the knock on the front door came just before midnight on 2 August. Dan went to the bay window and peered through a chink in the curtains.

'It's all right, love. It's John Hassell and Karen.'

Moira let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the hall with Dan to welcome them. The last few days had tautened her nerves. Since they were a small coven, compact in their three adjoining houses and not publicly active, they had not so far been molested at home. This was a quiet, mainly middle-class area of Staines which might be expected to lag behind less inhibited places in open violence and they had always got on well with most of their immediate neighbours. But the signs were already there, in the eyes that were beginning to avoid theirs and in the whisperings just out of earshot. Besides, it was clear from their phone talks with other witches (the phone hardly stopped ringing these days) that the Crusaders were becoming more methodical in their intimidation, as though they were building up local lists and working their way through them. Their commonest tactic so far was the brick through the window, though there had been many street attacks on individuals, several of them brutal and none of them reaching the newspapers or, apparently, leading to arrests; and one house in Kettering and at least four cars had been burned.

One policeman friend who was himself a witch had, riskily, phoned Moira and told her what he knew was happening in the Metropolitan force at least. All ranks had been told, though only verbally, 'not to interfere if possible in sectarian disputes', as the formula went. It had soon become clear that 'if possible' meant in practice 'except where a witch can plausibly be charged with an offence' and that any arrest of Crusaders would be frowned on. The order had aroused a good deal of resentment among the more conscientious officers but any who tried to ignore it found themselves promptly disciplined, directly or indirectly. At one police station in Lambeth everyone from the superintendent downwards had stood together on the issue and for a few days had been able to keep the local Crusaders under control. Within a week, all of them down to the rank of sergeant had been transferred elsewhere and the station restaffed under a notorious martinet.

This call, disturbing as it was, had had the effect of strengthening Dan and Moira in their determination. They had had their moments of doubt as they checked and re-checked their vehicle stores; sometimes they had wondered what on earth they were doing, contemplating the abandonment of homes and jobs in the face of what might be a passing hysteria. But their instincts told them the hysteria was not passing but planned, and their police friend's call had confirmed it. As for jobs – Rosemary's had already gone, Dan's was becoming impossible, and even Greg's employer at the service station was beginning to talk vaguely of 'reorganization'. Dan, aware of his partner Steve's growing worry and embarrassment, had openly raised the question of Steve buying him out. Steve's rejection of the idea had been hasty and not very coherent and Dan was sure it could not last. They had been friends for a long time but the business was patently suffering from Dan's known presence. It had reached the stage now where their typist was bringing him paperwork to do at home and even this was becoming increasingly nominal.