It was just an old scrap of material probably a scarf that had been dropped as a woman had run from the rain. But the large dogs were now sniffing around where I had found the material. Two of the dogs were now digging and tugging at a small sack that was sticking out from the hole that they had now dug. I shouted at them to stop this, they ceased and came bounding toward me, their faces muddy and wet, the rain was beginning to fall, the droplets dripping down my neck. I placed the piece of material in my coat pocket and turned to go back to the farmhouse. Where I had then stayed for three days.
I had been walking on the Moors, on my holiday. I had taken the five dogs out for a walk on the lonely walk. I had been staying at a disused farmhouse, with a friendly farmer and his wife.
The Moors seemed eerie, the clouds were black, and a mist was forming. I thought about the material, also the sack poking out of the hole. I remembered the dead sheep I saw in the field as I went p the long, winding hill towards the stone buildings of the farmhouse. The sheep had been lying on its side and was definitely dead for it was motionless and blood flowed from its head.
Now I started running the dogs ran beside me. I placed my footsteps down carefully in an effort not to fall down on the uneven surfaces, which surrounded me. I was now approaching the farmhouse. Reaching into my pockets I pulled out the keys to the cottage. Pushing them into the lock, I rushed in the dogs followed. Slamming the door, I fell into a chair nearest to the log fire. It was very warm and comforting. Still in the back of my mind, I thought of the mysterious sack.
I reached into my pocket, and pulled out the material. I started to think whom it could belong too. I thought that the next day I would talk o Bernard the farmer and his wife June and ask him about the area and also show him the material. I laid there thinking in depth about the material and the sack and slowly fell asleep.
The next morning I woke with a jump, and straight away remembered the events of the previous day. I got up and went to the basin to wash my face. I dressed very quickly pulling on a small jumper that lay in the drawers beside the bed. Then I raced around the room, with the dogs following me.
I walked across the farmyard, and knocked on the farmer’s door. The door opened quickly and the farmer with a cold callous looking expression on his face looked closely at me.
“What do you want?” he asked.
I reached into my pocket, and tried to find the piece of material, I kept searching but I found nothing.
“What is you want?” Bernard said once again.
“I had a piece of material, it was brown, with white polka dot spots on it” I said.
Bernard paused and then stood back and slammed the door shut.
“Hey” I shouted, “Open up”
He did not open the door again, but I found myself standing out in the cold. The only way I could find out was to look at the sack myself. Or should I phone the Police? There was a doubt in my mind as to whether it was a body at all, or something else. But where had the material gone?
I decided to go back to the farmhouse and look for the material. I felt a nose sniffing at my hand. Looking down, there was a muddy dog with the material in her mouth.
“Where did you get that?” I said,
The dog did not answer, but I guessed that she had been playing with it and had taken it from my pocket. The farmer had been really unfriendly, as it was early, and he may have been asleep.
I suddenly realised that I had made a silly mistake.
I finally decided to go back to where the sack was and find out exactly what was in it.
I walked briskly across the Moors, thinking of all the mistakes I had made and thought about how to apologise to the farmer.
I came to the spot where the sack was sticking out. It smelt awful, so whatever had been exposed to the rain had rotted. It could be some rotted potatoes. I tugged at the sack and then feel backwards as the sack came out of the ground.
The sack fell open and a hand lay on the wet earth!
* I walked around the farmyard looking at the cold, old stone buildings. It gave me a spooky feeling. I heard a noise and swung around. Bernard stood behind me and his wife was close beside him. The pipe in his mouth had smoke drifting around him which gave an eerie effect.
“How is your daughter?” I asked for I had seen the pictures of her on photos on my wall beside my bed.
“Our daughter?” Bernard said in his Yorkshire accent.
“Yes” I said.
“Arr she has gone – gone away for awhile”
Bernard and June then turned and walked away.