It was mid-afternoon by the time they got there. Hunter pulled up outside a plain building. “Keep the car running.” He said to James. “I’ll be back in a minute. Hopefully.”
They waited in silence. James started to drum his fingertips on the wheel as he gazed out of the window avidly, as though expecting a witch to leap on them right there.
Sophie gritted her teeth against the annoying sound. “Can you stop that?”
“Sorry.” James replied sheepishly. “Nervous.”
Hunter wasn’t long; he soon stepped out of the building with a large sports bag, which he dumped in the car boot before jumping back into the driver’s seat and driving off without a word.
“You can’t tell me we’re going to drive all the way home before looking at what’s in there?” Sophie asked sceptically.
Hunter grinned in the rear-view mirror. “You think we can wait that long?”
They drove until they were out of the town and kept going until they found a roadside picnic area. The place was empty, and it was quiet, except from the steady traffic that roared by, passengers ignorant of everything outside the car.
The three of them sat around a worn wooden bench, with the bag in front of them. Hunter glanced at the other two - this was it. He slowly unzipped the bag. Inside there were stacks of papers, some cardboard files and such. The three of them craned forward, then gingerly picked through it all.
“Well, here’s some information on a period of intense persecution of wiccans by witches. It doesn’t give dates on this sheet though,” Hunter peered into the bag. “There should be the rest of it in there…”
“Hm, this file has records of witches and wiccans from - wow, the 1940s.” Sophie voiced.
“Well, this might be important, but I’ll be damned if I can read it.” James said, as he leafed through some old papers with scrawled handwriting.
They continued to look through the work for another half-hour, it seemed as though Brian had a unique way of ordering things. They made no immediate discovery to how it was all linked, nor to why it was so important to Brian. It was quite the anti-climax.
James was the first to admit defeat. He pushed the papers back into the bag. “Look, we aint gonna solve this in the next five minutes, and I feel uncomfy havin’ these out in the open.”
“Home we go then.” Hunter suggested, not relishing another five hour drive.
“Actually,” Sophie interrupted. “My mum doesn’t live far away, over in the Lake District. I was going to ask if you could drop me off - I haven’t seen her since I joined Brian. But I’m sure she’d put us all up for the night, and we can drive down tomorrow.”
“I vote yes.” James immediately piped up.
“Be careful, Sophie, that was you almost being nice to us,” Hunter teased. “But yes, why not. And we get to meet your mother!”