Bad luck of the catastrophic, apocalyptic, hellfire-and-damnation variety would beset the inhabitants of Fairwood House if they crossed the Pendles after all their years of service, old Mr Pendle had sworn, and his wife had made something to seal it with, some charm for good luck written backwards to reverse the intent. Scratched into the limestone slab, barely visible now under all the dust and the shadow of the range, were symbols and initials, especially the letter ‘P’, over and over. Roy had refused to touch it.
