The Mist of Moningsbury

Chapter Three

Suzan Lumpton stepped out of the taxi and looked around her. So this is Moningsbury, she thought. She couldn't see much because the night had set in, her surroundings shrouded in shadows, but she could see the sign of the 'Shepherd's Arms' ahead of her. Suzan wasn't able to move into her new house in the village until tomorrow, so she had booked a room at the local pub. She thanked the driver and hefted her suitcase. Breathing in the cool air, her head felt the clearest it had been in a long time. A new place, a fresh start. With a spring in her step, she entered into the pub.

It was a small but cozy building. A small fire flickered in a wood burner, the wooden floor was covered with various red and beige rugs and the plastered walls were cluttered with historical paintings and vintage cartoons. A few people were sat around the small circular tables that dotted the room. Some cast her a curious glance as she entered. Suzan cautiously approached the bar.

"Hello." She said, addressing a bulky woman stood behind the counter. "I booked a room for tonight."

"Suzan?" The woman replied, looking up at her from the glass she held.

"Yes. I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic and all that." She gave a meek smile.

"Of course, no need to apologise. Just follow me." So saying, she left the bar and led Suzan through a wooden door that hid a narrow winding staircase. "Yours is the first room on the right. Anything you need, just give me a shout." She turned as if to go before adding, "Will you be coming back down for dinner?"

"Oh, err" Suzan mumbled, her rosy face uncertain as she considered the decision.

The woman evidently noticed the tired eyes of her lodger, "How about sandwiches?"

Suzan looked grateful, "oh, yes please. Do you do, err, ham?"

"Of course" The woman offered a sympathetic smile, "I'll bring them up shortly. You go and get settled in."

With an eager nod and grin to the woman, Suzan climbed the stairs. "Thank you." She called back. Stumbling at the top, she lugged her suitcase to the first door on her right. She opened it with a good shove and entered a small room with a strong, musty odour. It had meagre furnishings, but Suzan scarcely looked around before dumping her suitcase and stepping towards the large sash window. Despite the bags under her eyes, she felt a thrill of excitement run through her. She could see little of the village green outside except for what was illuminated by the single little street lamp at the corner of the opposite road. The brick wall of a building and the tarmac were bathed in a small orange glow. Everything else was just a dark, grey outline. Suzan was not looking down however, she was looking up. The clouds had cleared and she gazed in wonderment at the stars showing through the velvet sky. She had never seen so many before. 'I just have to take a picture of this.' She thought, 'it looks gorgeous.' Her hand reached down to a pocket and pulled out a phone. Her thumb woke up the screen and she waited for it to recognise her face.

Clip clop clip clop.

With something of a childish excitement, she looked up. 'I suppose they're always riding horses in the country' she thought as she strained her eyes, looking out the window for the expected creature. And there it was, at the very edge of the streetlamp's reach, a large horse walked into view with a cloaked rider upon its back. At this distance, Suzan could not make out any details. The rider dismounted and, somewhat to her surprise, the horse just wandered off. The cloaked rider strode away in the other direction, behind the building.

Suzan was still gazing, hoping for another glimpse of activity when a knock at the door announced the presence of the woman from the bar. "Come in." Suzan called.

The landlady entered, holding a plate of ham sandwiches. "Here we are" she said, carefully placing the plate on the dressing table, "I hope the room is to your liking?"

Suzan took in a breath of the musty air, "It's lovely." She said. "I was just looking out of the window and saw someone in a cloak, riding a horse. Is there a fancy dress thing going on, or is that normal round here?" she chuckled.

The woman stared solemnly at Suzan. "Not that I am aware of." She replied quietly. "In a cloak you say? And riding a kind of grey-ish horse?"

Suzan nodded, her curiosity provoked.

"I can think of only one person who that might be." The woman continued, "Local legend says a mysterious cloaked figure who rides a large horse goes around protecting the village from ghosts and unearthly creatures. Some think he is a ghost. He's known as The Mist of Moningsbury, and very few people have ever seen him...or her. You should consider yourself lucky."

All Suzan could think to say was "oh". She felt skeptical about the story.

"Enjoy your sandwiches." The woman said and promptly withdrew from the room.

'It was more likely someone pretending' Suzan thought, despite the tingle of excitement she felt at there being a local legend. She looked out the window again. Noticing her phone was unlocked, she raised it towards the multitude of twinkles that was the sky and took a picture.