"That was totally terrifying", she gasped. "They could have raped me."

"No, don't be silly", said Becky reassuringly. "It's just a bit of fun - a tradition - there's no harm to it at all."

The wine was having its effect and Sarah began to feel more herself again.

"But it does mean that you are really one of us now", smiled Becky.

"I'm not so sure if that is necessarily a good thing", said Sarah wryly.

"Oh it is without any doubt a very good thing", smiled Becky sweetly.

"Well I think it's set the seal on the evening for me. And anyway, it's well past closing time and we must be off or we'll get locked out of our lodgings."

"Aren't you staying for the 'Midnight Hour?"

"What", said Sarah, suspicious there was yet another horrendous ordeal imminent, "exactly, is the 'Midnight Hour'."

"Nothing much", smiled Becky, a little lamely. The roses in her cheeks shiny with youthful health and the embarrassment of the thought that she may possibly have said too much.

"It's just the time in the evening when we welcome the Spirit of Exmoor to our gathering. It's nice and it's supposed to be lucky. You can wish for what you want and sometimes your wishes are fulfilled." She pushed back her long dark hair prettily.

"Plus there's usually some titbits to eat - to get into ..."

She was cut off by the sound of a large clock over the door striking 12. As the chimes rang out, the room suddenly became quiet, shadows lengthened and candles began to replace electricity as the means of light.

The MC, back on his stool in the centre of the penumbra, started quietly to sing a song of farewell.

"Goodnight, go home,

you'll not be alone

.... I'll see you in my dreams"

Sarah could just see trays being passed through the gloom. Each tray was held for a second by the recipient, a morsel selected and eaten and then the tray was passed on. When it arrived, it looked surprisingly innocuous. Mushrooms in garlic was always one of her favourites so she popped the half button into her mouth with pleasure, passed the tray on and settled down to watch the performance.

Now the Hobbyhorse was back on the floor and the people shrank back to give it enough space to dance. The Hobbyhorse tune was repeated again and again hypnotically around the room. It slowed to a measured march then increased in tempo until the musicians bodies seemed to tremble with the effort of keeping up. A drummer walloped his large drum and occasionally emitted a mind-searing scream that seemed to cleanse the air temporarily.

A second carrier for the Hobby Hose slipped under its skirts helped by two others who held it aloft front and back so the dance could continue. The previous occupant collapsed on the side looking completely exhausted. Sarah had a perception that the room had altered slightly in substance. It seemed more womb like, more enclosed - an almost tangible sense of static charge prevailed as if just before a thunderstorm. The smell of heather and cut grass was also in the air.

The horse seemed to gather itself up for one last caper and then collapsed in a heap as the MC stepped forward. His beard glistened in the dancing light of the candles. His face was serious his voice commanding:

"I call upon the Spirit of Exmoor that has provided us with a home and a place to live and a means of protection against harsh forces from outside to come to us, receive our thanks and protect us for always from unnatural designs. Exmoor in your honour there will be a Silence of Welcome for you to listen to our hopes and fears."

The Hobby Horse was on the move again but this time there was no music for it to dance to and it seemed content to cast about aimlessly.

The effect of the ceremony was impressive. Sarah could almost believe there was something in it.

"What would I wish for", she thought to herself. "A nasty accident for Peter. Fame, fortune, health and wealth or just perhaps even a good enough excuse to persuade Peter to give up his job immediately to give David a chance.

She decided to wish for a decent home for her children was preferable - invoking some pantheistic deity to murder seemed wrong somehow however difficult things had become.

The Hobbyhorse was still now and with surprise Sarah saw that it was pointing its prow directly at her. In a complete silence, the Hobbyhorse bowed three times at her before silently leaving the room.

Sarah became aware of Becky besides her again.

"Lucky you", she said mysteriously and then refused to elaborate. The evening now seemed to be over. Peter appeared again and so they made their excuses and made their way down the pitch black windy roads with the stars shining brightly above back to the inn and a sleepy doorkeeper.

In their room again, Sarah was grateful when Peter reached for her only briefly to satisfy his needs before falling deeply asleep. Glad that the long day was at an end, she soon followed him into world that can bring nightmares or provide blessed relief.



Then her eyes were open again.

It was still late Saturday night. Unaccountably, the musicians were back but in a place that she didn't recognise. It had the bearing of an old manorial hall with a Minstrels Gallery around the outside.

Old oak wood panelled the walls and a huge dark wood table stood solidly in the dead centre of the room. Shadows were everywhere as the candlelight flickered against the cloaks of the people standing around the table.

The Hobbyhorse was there too but now seeming to float rather than prance as it circled the room. Sarah became aware that there was somebody lying on the table. She drew closer. Nobody seemed aware of her presence. Then suddenly the person on the altar was herself. Her long fair hair strewn around her head so that it created a halo.

The cloaked onlookers turned as one towards the horse. It moved smoothly into their midst and then drifted slowly high above the table. A low musical hum rose up from the onlookers as the Hobbyhorse gently started to descend. Transfixed she watched it drifting lower and lower. Then just before it finally came to rest, she found herself looking up into its huge dark body as its shadow enveloped her.