Joseph Delaney - The Spook's Curse

After a few moments I could hear him muttering. I’d never been to confession in my life but I had a pretty good idea of what went on. One of Dad’s brothers had become very religious before he’d died. Dad always called him ‘Holy Joe’ but his real name was Matthew. He went to confession twice a week and after hearing his sins the priest gave him a big penance. That meant that afterwards he had to say lots of prayers over and over again. I supposed the old man was telling the priest about his sins.

The door stayed closed for what seemed an age and I started to grow impatient. Another thought struck me: what if it wasn’t Father Cairns inside but some other priest? I really would have to make a confession then or it would seem very suspicious. I tried to think of a few sins that might sound convincing. Was greed a sin? Or did you call it gluttony? Well, I certainly liked my food but I’d had nothing to eat all day and my belly was starting to rumble. Suddenly it seemed madness to be doing this. In moments I could end up a prisoner.

I panicked and stood up to leave. It was only then that I noticed with relief a small card slotted into a holder on the door. A name was written on it: Father CAIRNS.

At that moment the door opened and the old man came out, so I took his place in the confessional and closed the door behind me. It was small and gloomy inside, and when I knelt down, my face was very close to a metal grille. Behind the grille was a brown curtain and, somewhere beyond that, a flickering candle. I couldn’t see a face through the grille, just the shadowy outline of a head.

‘Would you like me to hear your confession?’ The priest’s voice had a strong County accent and he breathed loudly.

I just shrugged. Then I realized that he couldn’t see me properly through the grille. ‘No, Father,’ I said, ‘but thank you for asking. I’m Tom, Mr Gregory’s apprentice. You wanted to see me.’

There was a slight pause before Father Cairns spoke. ‘Ah, Thomas, I’m glad you came. I asked you here because I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something very important, so I want you to stay here until I’ve finished. Will you promise me that you won’t leave until I’ve said what I have to say?’

‘I’ll listen,’ I replied doubtfully. I was wary of making promises now. In the spring I’d made a promise to Alice and it had got me in a whole lot of trouble.

‘That’s a good lad,’ he said. ‘We’ve made a good start to an important task. And do you know what that task is?’

I wondered whether he was talking about the Bane but thought it best not to mention that creature so close to the catacombs, so I said, ‘No, Father.’

‘Well, Thomas, we have to put together a plan. We have to work out how we can save your immortal soul. But you know what you have to do to begin the process, don’t you? You must walk away from John Gregory. You must cease practising that vile trade. Will you do that for me?’

‘I thought you wanted to see me about helping Mr Gregory,’ I said, starting to feel angry. ‘I thought he was in danger.’

‘He is, Thomas. We are here to help John Gregory but we must begin by helping you. So will you do what I ask?’

‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘My dad paid good money for my apprenticeship and my mam would be even more disappointed. She says I’ve a gift and I have to use it to help people. That’s what spooks do. We go round helping people when they’re in danger from things that come out of the dark.’

There was a long silence. All I could hear was the priest’s breathing. Then I thought of something else.

‘I helped Father Gregory, you know,’ I blurted out. ‘He died later, it’s true, but I saved him from a worse death. At least he died in bed, in the warmth. He tried to get rid of a boggart,’ I explained, raising my voice a little. ‘That’s what got him into trouble in the first place. Mr Gregory could have sorted it out for him. He can do things that a priest can’t. Priests can’t get rid of boggarts because they don’t know how. It takes more than just a few prayers.’

I knew that I shouldn’t have said that about prayers and I expected him to get very angry. He didn’t. He kept calm and that made it seem a whole lot worse.

‘Oh, yes, it takes much more,’ Father Cairns answered quietly, his voice hardly more than a whisper. ‘Much, much more. Do you know what John Gregory’s secret is, Thomas? Do you know the source of his power?’

‘Yes,’ I said, my own voice suddenly much calmer. ‘He’s studied for years, for the whole of his working life. He’s got a whole library full of books and he did an apprenticeship like me and he listened carefully to what his master said and wrote it down in notebooks, just like I do now.’

‘Don’t you think that we do the same? It takes long, long years to train for the priesthood. And priests are clever men being trained by even cleverer men. So how did you accomplish what Father Gregory couldn’t, despite the fact that he read from God’s holy book? How do you explain the fact that your master routinely does what his brother could not?’

‘It’s because priests have the wrong kind of training,’ I said. ‘And it’s because my master and I are both seventh sons of seventh sons.’

The priest made a strange noise behind the grille. At first I thought he was choking; then I realized I could hear laughter. He was laughing at me.

I thought that was very rude. My dad always says that you should respect other people’s opinions even if they sometimes seem daft.

‘That’s just superstition, Thomas,’ Father Cairns said at last. ‘Being the seventh son of a seventh son means nothing. It’s just an old wives’ tale. The true explanation for John Gregory’s power is something so terrible that it makes me shudder just to think about it. You see, John Gregory has made a pact with Hell. He’s sold his soul to the Devil.’

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. When I opened my mouth, no words came out so I just kept shaking my head.

‘It’s true, Thomas. All his power comes from the Devil. What you and other County folk call boggarts are just lesser devils who only yield because their master bids them do that. It’s worth it to the Devil because, in return, one day he’ll get hold of John Gregory’s soul. And a soul is precious to God, a thing of brightness and splendour, and the Devil will do anything to dirty it with sin and drag it down into the eternal flames of Hell.’

‘What about me?’ I said, getting angry again. ‘I’ve not sold my soul. But I saved Father Gregory.’

“That’s easy, Thomas. You’re a servant of the Spook, as you call him, who, in turn, is a servant of the Devil. So the power of evil is on loan to you while you serve. But of course, if you were to complete your training in evil and prepare to practise your vile trade as master rather than apprentice, then it would be your turn. You too would have to sign away your soul. John Gregory hasn’t yet told you this because you’re too young, but he would certainly do so one day. And when that day arrived, it would come as no surprise because you’d remember my words to you now. John Gregory has made many serious mistakes in his life and has fallen a long, long way from grace. Do you know that he was once a priest?’

I nodded. ‘I know that already.’

‘And do you know how, just fresh from ordination as a priest, he came to leave his calling? Do you know of his shame?’

I didn’t reply. I knew that Father Cairns was going to tell me anyway.

‘Some theologians have argued that a woman does not have a soul. That debate continues, but of one thing we can be certain – a priest cannot take a wife, because it would distract him from his devotion to God. John Gregory’s failing was doubly bad: not only was he distracted by a woman but that woman was already betrothed to one of his own brothers. It tore the family apart. Brother turned against brother over a woman called Emily Burns.’