Hot Revenge Box Set 2

James joins us, stretching out his legs in the passenger seat as Richard takes us down the mountain and back onto the main highway. Then, he curves around the base of the mountain before turning off to follow first a side-road; then a narrow country lane.

We pass frozen fields, frigid and sparkling, lined by hedgerows of hawthorn and crab apples, bare of leaves but bright with winter fruit. The fields give way to woodland, the trees stretching naked branches towards the thin sunlight filtering under the grey sky.

Crossing a humped stone bridge, we cross rushing water; the road narrow enough that Richard slows down, steering carefully to avoid scraping the sides of his car.

Then, as we turn a corner, the woodland opens up to reveal a huge building; neglected and abandoned, four storeys high, built from brick and stone. Even from here, I can see that the windows are barred, much of the glass broken.

“This is it.” Richard draws in towards tall steel-bar gates, razor wire looping over the top. One faded sign declares that Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. Another, the paint peeling from a security camera icon warns, This Area Is Under 24 Hour Surveillance.

A blue-uniformed guard stands waiting then, as he sees us, pushes the gates open.

Richard winds down his window. “All unlocked?”

“Yes, sir. I opened up all the doors. Would you like me to accompany you and your party?”

“No, that’s fine. We can manage.” He drives through, pulling up onto cracked tarmac which vanishes under nettles and briars at the edges. What parts of the surface aren’t potholed, are carpeted in lush green moss.

Stepping with care to avoid slipping on icy ground, I raise hands to my cheeks, “Oh. My. God.”

back again, turning on the spot through three-sixty degrees.

fingers lace together as we survey the ramshackle building

mill looms above us; the brickwork dark with soot, green-streaked from the guttering. Small trees sprout from cracks and crevices. Ivy both scrambles up from the ground and, perversely, drapes over the wall from the roof.

dances at the thoughts of what it might become. Richard and James remain silent, eyes creasing at

abandoned it long ago, and this vast, sad, beautiful, shabby, amazing place has all but returned

“It’s huge,” I breathe.

His voice is matter-of-fact. “… when you include all the outbuildings. Plenty of space for anything you’re likely

round domes of old cobbles underneath.

pocket of his long overcoat, nods. “Ah-ha. The mill, the sheds and annexes. About two acres of

turning up his collar… “…

some of the outbuildings are structurally unsound. But all such areas are either locked up or fenced off. So, if you can get to

his teeth. “Pulping pits? What did they do

papermill originally.” He aims a finger towards a corner… “…That’s the

the side of

It’s a mill…

course we’re by the