“D— it, man,” he said at last, “what the devil did you mean by your message? ‘I saw a house that wasn’t quite right,’ what a load of old rot.”

Mr Alasdair Beckett-King, seated in the chair opposite, peered at Shakeshaft through a yellowish haze and his drooping eyes sparkled in the firelight...

This evening’s podcast begins with Alasdair telling James a tale about the Midlands. A land that is neither North nor South. A land replete with mystery and intrigue. A land whose accent neither Loregent can do.

Northamptonshire.

Beginning with the three-sided folly of Ruston Triangular Lodge, the boys discover a drumming well, a perambulating doll and a haunted church that’s thick... wi’ rabbits.

Loreboys nether say die!

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