CHAPTER 1
The Aftermath
The late afternoon sky had been gradually darkening as he had progressed on his journey. A brooding metallic greyness had been building in the west over the ocean, the clouds had in the end made landfall, and as he pulled off the motorway the westerly breeze had blown them far enough in - land, and by early evening the first gentle rain of autumn began to fall on his windscreen. The summer had been slow in coming, and slow in her leaving, and this was late for the first rain. The remains of long dead and long decayed organisms which had lain buried deeply within the earths' mantle had found their way to the surface again, and had leaked from petrol tanks and engine sumps, and now spread in rainbow colours across the newly wet road; extra care would be needed on the oily surface. His heart skipped a beat or two as the wall of the ancient town came into view only a few minutes later, and his breathing became laboured for a moment before he regained control, and his logical and rational thoughts brought his emotions to heel. He berated himself as he searched for the side lights and windscreen wiper controls of his hired automobile; he did not need to be here, after all; this had been his deliberation, and his decision, and even now he could turn back. But he would not turn back, and instead he took a cigarette from the pack on the dashboard and lit it, without breaking stride in his motor vehicle; now, having waited and meditated upon the matter for so long, there could be no turning back, but at this moment he needed a cigarette. He would not park within the town walls; he knew from experience that this would be all but impossible, and in any case he must avoid the town, but the road skirted close to the old stone wall for a moment, and the wall cast a shadow over his vehicle, and over his soul. There was no sound or sensible rationale behind this, really, but now he had an address, and a desire to know that which had underlain his life for too long, and now he went of his own free will into the beginning of something of which he had no idea of the end. And here we will leave him for now, at the moment when, just for a moment, the wave of something like panic swept through him, for we should first learn how this moment had come to be. The summer was gone, and we should learn how this summer had been for the people who live around the village Green, and for this man no less than any of the others, for this was Percival, and the town into which he would soon now be entering was a place where he had been before. Here a well – spring had given cause for the first people who had happened this way to stop and make camp, and then in time to build their simple stone and thatch dwellings, which after long course of time had become a fortress town due it's high elevation and panoramic views over the surrounding forests and grass – covered plains. Here these still ancient people could defend those things which were precious to them against those who may wish to take them; their liberty, their possessions and their established and trusted way of life. Here could they raise their crops, and their livestock, and their children, and there would always be water, which is the basis of all things. And in time, though nobody could now know when this had been, the settlement of people had been given a name, and that name had been Headwater.
* * *
This part of our tale, however, begins some months earlier, on the evening of the day after the black witch Eve had died on the steps of the Manor House. Meadow had prevented her entry into the Manor, as perhaps only Meadow could have done, and so had Victoria's child, Henry, been made safe. Keith and Meadow had walked home in the early morning, and then perhaps inevitably had come the aftershock.
'Keith; will you stay with me today.'
'What, you mean at the deli?'
'Yes.'
'Sure; I mean I'll look after the shop today if you want; why don't you take the day off; get some sleep?'
'I'll be fine; I just ... just stay with me, okay?'
She had taken his arm, and later Keith had 'phoned in and taken the day off from his usual labours, and they had served together at the delicatessen, as they had not done for a long time, and by the close of business in the afternoon Meadow had felt better. Amongst their customers that day had been Percival, and they could not but tell him briefly of the events of the previous night, and he had invited them for pasta at the cottage that evening, because brief conversation was not enough. And so we find them; Percival had served good food and wine, of which even Meadow had partaken, and now came the time for further conversation regarding that which had occurred, and perhaps reconciliation, as far as this was possible.
'So tell me again; what the hell happened last night?'
* * *
Victoria had made herself coffee, showered and gone to her bed after Keith and Meadow had departed on the so fateful early morning. She had taken little Henry with her, as she still would not be parted from him. She had fed her infant and then had lain down with him by her side and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. She was tired, but knew she would not sleep; still she needed the comfort of her bed in the huge, empty house. She understood now why Rebecca had been uneasy during the previous evening; Rebecca had known that the witch Eve would come, that much was certain, but had she foreseen how the horrible events would occur thereafter; that was the question which Victoria now asked herself, or at least, it was one of the questions. Rebecca had asked Meadow for help, and Meadow had come, and Rebecca had kept Henry safe, and so all had been well in the end; the witch was dead, and that for now at least was the end of the matter. But how much of that particular scenario could Rebecca have with any confidence predicted, and in how many different ways could events have occurred? Meadow had not intended to kill the witch, or rather perhaps better say that she had not intended to cause her death; that had been accident rather than any design, and so supposing she had lived, or supposing that the absolute faith which Rebecca had placed in Meadow had been ill – placed, and Meadow had been overcome; what then? Would Rebecca have been able to win a battle of wills with Eve, if it had come to that pass? She remembered well enough how Rebecca had been after her first encounter with Eve; she had been frightened in a way that...
