It was pitch black, a chill October wind blowing over the Yorkshire moors. The only light came from the headlights of the battered car bouncing over the rough farm track leading to remote and deserted Top Ghyll Farm. There was no stock, the farm had not been run as a farm for many years and the old lady who had seen out her days at Top Ghyll had died two months previously.
The car stopped at the broken down farm gate and the driver got out to open it. He struggled to lift the gate which was dragging on its hinges and the man in the passenger seat, who was sullen and clearly not happy muttered impatiently and came to help him
"What are you playing at?" he snarled at the car driver who looked nervous as well as he might. He knew what his passenger was capable of.
"Look, nothing. I said you'll be out of here and you will be. I just need your passport sorting is all. Its taking a while longer to get done than I thought. Micky who's doing it for me, told you, he's the best there is, he's been out of touch but he's on it now all right?"
"What is this dump anyway?" the man muttered huddling into his coat as a defence to the wind.
"Me Gran's place. She's dead and its mine now. And no one comes here, I were going to sell it but -"
The man snorted. "Good luck with that! Who'd want to live out in the middle of nowhere for Christ's sake. Jeez, you told me if I got myself out you'd sort out what I needed to get out of the country. And instead you've brought me to this dump instead."
"Its just the passport and that's sorted now or it will be. I swear it. Micky'll have it for me in a day or two then I'll drive you to Hull and get you on that ferry myself. Micky's brilliant, no-one'll spot the passport isn't legit."
"Yeah, Well you just remember how much you owe me." The man was swarthy with a scar running down the side of his face. "I've done twelve years inside - twelve years of a life sentence and its nearly bloody killed me.. I had to get out, couldn't stand it any more." He looked intently at the man stood opposite him."You know you should have been doing that time alongside of me Brian and I kept you out of it."
"I'm grateful for it I swear," the man muttered, "and that's why I said I'd help you didn't I? All you had to do was get yourself out of prison and you've done it and I'm helping you. No one will look for you here." He paused. "I always wondered why, you know, you didn't take me down with you."
The man shrugged. "S'pose when all's said an' done, I stuck the knife in Billy Flanagan didn't I? You just got rid of the knife for me." The man laughed bitterly. "Except you threw it in a bin! A bin! The police soon bloody found it. You didn't even wipe it clean!" He smiled maliciously. "And I kept quiet because I thought, you'll keep, you owe me big time for dropping me in it and me not saying a word about how you helped me. Not that you were much help! Now are we going in this dump or what and I hope you can get a fire going or summat because I'm half bloody frozen!" He suddenly whipped round pinning the other man against the wall. "After the cock up you made getting rid of that knife I can't believe I'm trusting you to get me out of the country. If you mess this up you're a dead man walking! Clear?"
The next morning turned out to be a bright autumn day albeit the wind was still blowing a fair gale which had quite a biting edge to it. It was also half term holidays and three nine year olds from the village had no school to go to, accordingly their respective mothers had shooed them out of their front doors and told to keep out from under their feet and don't make mischief! The boys met up in the village remarkably dressed alike in shorts, long socks, thick coats and caps and scarves wound tightly round their necks.
For a little while, George, Alan and Colin hung around by the war memorial. They then kicked a ball around on the village green. After that they went for a "walk."
This took them out of the village and down a rough track which eventually after a bit of tramping brought them to Mistletoe Farm. It was actually more a smallholding and not as pretty as its name suggested. The house itself sat in a kind of basin with high ground around it. This was walled off and the boys hung over the wall looking down at the farm.
"Who lives here then?" George wanted to know.
"Its ould Mrs Butters as lives here. She's a right nasty piece of work," Alan said. "Reported me to me Dad once for chasing her hens. Got me a right hiding I did. After I'd said sorry to her an' all!"
"Aye and she caught me in her barn and locked me in and went for me Dad!" Colin put in. "I weren't doin' nowt, I were only looking!"
"I reckon we should give the old bat a scare don't you lads!" said George reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a large firework.
"Where did you get that!" exclaimed Alan.
"Left over from last Bonfire Night," explained George. "Its been in our shed ever since. I don't know if it'll light mind but we can try. Anyone got matches?"
Alan found a box in his pocket and handed them over.
"Here," said Colin,"what're you going to do?"
George grinned. "Give the old bat a fright that's what."
The other boys looked uneasy.
"Eh, I dunno," Alan said. "I mean, we'd get in right trouble wouldn't we?"
"Only giving the old biddy a fright. Not chicken are you?" George sneered. "Anyone who wants to go, clear off then!"
The lads looked at each other but their inner devil won. "Go on then," Alan urged George, "gerron wi' it!"
George lit the firework and hurled it over the wall. It landed in the yard inches from the house door. The boys ducked down as the firework went off with a tremendous bang. It actually shook the windows in the house.
Half scared by the bang the boys nervously looked over the wall. They looked on transfixed as the door of the house was flung open and old Mrs Butters stood there. She waved her fist at the boys signalling clear intent to give chase.
"Run!" gasped Alan but Colin said,
"Wait!"
They leaned over the wall, stunned, as the old lady suddenly collapsed back against the door frame. She clutched her chest with one arm. Her legs seemed to give way under her. She slid down the door landing half in and half out the door way first into a sitting position then sliding down onto her side
"We need to get out of here," Alan said.
"Can't leave her like that!" snapped Colin.
"Weren't our fault," George said robustly. "We only lit a firework. Eh, we need to go down there, get that firework case back."
"You can go down there on your own!" Alan said in horror. "We're off aren't we Craig?"
"Yeah."
"Eh you two, not ter say a word," George said. "We've done nowt. Only lit a firework. No one needs to know we're here do they?"
The other boys scampered off. George wasn't really as brave as he was making out and it took him all his courage to walk to the gate in the wall and down the path to the house. He found the firework casing and put it in his pocket. He did not look at the old woman lying there. He couldn't. But as he turned to run he did mutter under his breath, "Sorry missus!"
Some hours later an ambulance was pulled up outside the house and PC Nick Rowan and District Nurse Maggie Bolton were watching Mrs Butters' body being loaded into it. A doctor was stood with them.
"Well that's it," he said. "With her history we knew it could happen any time. Her heart just gave out on her in the end."
Nick nodded. "Thanks for your help Doctor," he said.
The man nodded pleasantly, said, "Goodbye Maggie," then got into his car and drove off. Nick looked over at Maggie.
"You all right?" he checked.
"Yes," she said. "Its just sad when they go. She shouldn't have been living out here you know. Her daughter wanted her to live with her but Annie wouldn't leave this place. She'd had heart trouble for years. I wasn't surprised when I found her today. Wish I'd found her earlier."
"The doctor said it wouldn't have made much difference if you had," Nick said gently.
"I know." Maggie nodded towards the house. "She knew this was coming. There's a bureau in the bedroom and she's left a letter to be given to her solicitors. They'll sort everything out. All nice, neat and tidy."
"Makes a change," Nick said. He looked around him. "Will this be sold do you think?"
Maggie nodded. "Almost certainly. I can't see her two daughters wanting to live here somehow. Sad really. This place has been in the Butters' family for generations."