what it is that’s happened here, Mr. Laurie.”
“I never used to believe in the supernatural,” said Laurie. “Or ghosts.”
“That’s all right,” said JC. “They believe in you. In fact, that’s pretty much the definition of supernatural— things that insist on happening, whether you believe in them or not. Have you seen ghosts here, Mr. Laurie?”
“I want this taken care of,” said Laurie. “I want this unholy mess dealt with, forced out of here, so I can take it easy again…and the Trust can get on with opening up the station. Used to be a fine old place, this, back in the day. Always liked it here. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He glared quickly about him, as though defying the shadows to do anything. “I’m the only one who’ll come here now, and I can’t stay. Not once it starts getting really dark. No- one will stay here once it starts getting really dark. I’ll tell you what’s what, show you where everything is; but then I’m gone. You’re lucky I stayed to meet you, this late in the day.”
“But what is it?” said JC. “What is it that scares you, Mr. Laurie?”
“We thought it was kids, at first,” said Laurie. “Teenagers, with nothing to do, nothing to occupy them… messing about, making trouble. You saw the sign, up top—Bradleigh Hell? Aye. That was them. The last thing they did, before they ran away. They used to come here after dark, you see, to do all the things their parents didn’t need to know about…but you couldn’t drag any of them back now. Not after what they saw.”
“What did they see?” JC said patiently. “What happens here once it gets dark?”
“I think maybe…everyone sees different things,” Laurie said slowly. “I think maybe this place shows you whatever it is that scares you most. Because that’s the best way to get rid of you. The volunteers woke something up; and it wants us gone. You’ll see. All of you. Whether you want to or not. Come with me. I’ll show you where everything is, then I’m out of here.”
“Please don’t rush off, Mr. Laurie,” said JC. “Stick with us for a while. You’ll be perfectly safe, with us. After all, no-one knows this place better than you.”
Laurie managed his small smile again. “Aye. Maybe I have been here longer than most. I can still remember when Bradleigh Halt was a going concern, and the old trains came through here regular. Marvellous it was, the sight and sound of a steam train coming into the halt. My old dad used to work here, in the Bookings Office. I used to bring him his lunch every day, when I was a kid, along with a bottle of beer now and again.”
“Do you ever see your father among the ghosts?” said Melody.
“No, lass,” said Laurie. “I would have liked to…but it’s not spirits, as such, you see. I’m not sure whatever walks here now has anything human left in it. Whatever’s not finished with this place, it’s nothing to do with human needs or human business. No…Something bad is coming. And it’s getting closer all the time.” He broke off abruptly to glare at JC. “Why in God’s name are you wearing sunglasses at this time of night, boy?”
“Sensitive eyes,” said JC. “Work-related injury. You know how it is.”
“Hello!” Happy said suddenly. “That’s new. That’s…really quite nasty, actually.”
He’d moved away on his own, staring into the dark tunnel-mouth. He was frowning hard as though trying to focus on something he couldn’t quite identify or pin down.
“Excuse me a moment, Mr. Laurie,” said JC.
He moved quickly over to join Happy and laid a heavy hand on the telepath’s shoulder.
“What is the matter with you, Happy? I was starting to get some useful information out of the old man! Have you been indulging yourself with mother’s little helpers again?”
“It’s not the pills,” said Happy. “Wish it was. No; when the old man said something bad was coming, I got a flash…There is definitely something Out There, outside the world we know…dragging itself closer, struggling to break in. Something connected to this station, but not in any way human…”
JC waited, but Happy had nothing more to say. “From now on, keep it to yourself,” JC said quietly. “We do not want to freak out the natives till we have to. Mr. Laurie is our only source of first-hand information, and I don’t want him spooked.”
He moved back to join Laurie, smiling easily and reassuringly. “No problems. Everything’s fine. Oh yes. Happy’s a little…highly strung. Now, you were about to tell me what’s really going on here.”
“No I wasn’t,” Laurie said stubbornly. “You’re not ready yet. It’s not like I’ve seen anything definite…”
“None so blind as those who will not see,” said Happy. “Ow! That hurt!”
“It was meant to,” said Melody. “Carry on, JC.”
“Most people never encounter the hidden world,” JC said carefully to Laurie. “Never see a ghost, never hear voices in the night. It takes the right kind of person, in a really bad place, at a very bad time…to actually see anything from out of this world. Ghosts are rare. Mostly, the dead go where they’re supposed to. Please don’t ask me where. I don’t know, that’s not my department. It’s my job to deal with the problems of this world, not the next. No, only very rare people, under very rare circumstances, become ghosts; otherwise, we’d be hip deep in the things by now. Like you said: it’s mostly people with unfinished business. Hanging on to places like this, that mean a lot to them.”
“Aye,” said Laurie, unexpectedly. “Like I’m fond of this place because me dad worked here, and my son is so keen on reopening it.”
“And most ghosts can only be seen by the properly trained,” said JC. “People with the proper skills…”
Laurie looked at him steadily. “Who are you people? Really?”
“You don’t need to know,” said JC, just as steadily. “In fact, you don’t want to know. You’ll sleep more easily that way. Think of us…as the clean-up crew. And that’s all that really matters. Isn’t it?”
“Aye. I suppose so,” said Laurie. He nodded briskly, as though he’d made a decision. “Suppose I’ll stick around for a while. Come with me. I’ll get you settled, get you started. Fill you in. But I’ll tell you now, for nothing— this isn’t a good place to be, even before the sun goes down. Ghosts or whatever, there’s something in this place that wants us out. Doesn’t want anything human here. No-one’s actually died of fright here, not yet; but if I was a betting man, that’s where the smart money would be going. Because whatever’s here will stop at nothing to have this place to itself.”
“I want to go home,” said Happy.
Ronald Laurie led the Ghost Finders through a propped-open door and into the main station building. There was no sign hanging over the door, old or new. Laurie held his storm lantern high to spread the light and indicated the single lighting switch to JC. Who turned it on, with a dramatic flourish, and was pleasantly pleased when stark, modern light filled the room. Everything inside had been cleared away and cleaned up, leaving a bare, open room with more doors leading off, and a lingering smell of disinfectant. The doors to the Ticket Office and Waiting Room were clearly labelled, and there was no dust, no cobwebs, no unnaturally dark shadows. There was still…an uneasy feel to the room. As though none of them was really welcome.
“Pleasant enough setting,” said Happy, determinedly. “I’m not getting any bad vibrations, not much of anything, really. I don’t like the place, but how much of that is me and how much the room…”
“This is as far as the volunteers got,” said Laurie, and the others all jumped to find he’d moved silently forward to join them. He’d left his storm lantern behind and was looking around the refurbished setting with a pleased, almost proprietorial air. “Don’t go in the Ticket Office, though. It’s a dump. This is as much work as got done, before everything went to hell in a hurry. The Trust were going to make everything spick and span again… working from old photos, taken back in the day. They had the exact right shade of paint, specially remade furnishings, the lot. And then…”
They all waited, but he had nothing more to say.
“I saw an old signal box further down the track, when I was up top,” said JC. “Anything there we should be concerned about?”
“No,” said Laurie. “This is it. This is the bad place. I think…something really bad happened here, long ago, and part of it is still happening.”
“What do you think is behind all this, Mr. Laurie?” said JC, still being very patient because it was either that or scream out loud and stamp his foot. “You must have a theory. You know the history of this station. Has there ever been a bad crash here or some natural disaster? A murder, or a mystery…?”
“There is an old story,” said Laurie, reluctantly. “Not something most of us around here care to talk about. Dates back to Victorian times. Summer of 1878. A train was seen to enter the tunnel, on the other side of the Grey Fells, heading for Bradleigh Halt. Twenty, maybe thirty people saw that train enter the tunnel, going strong and steady, leading six, maybe seven carriages, packed full of passengers. A routine journey. But no-one ever saw the train come out of the tunnel, at the other end. It never arrived here, at Bradleigh Halt.
