The Secret of Crickley Hall

Swish-thwack!

He makes his way upstairs…

72: FEAR

Pyke was now standing on the small square landing beneath the tall window, the torchere behind him; sitting had proved too uncomfortable, his knee was aching. He contemplated Eve and Loren, who still lay sprawled on the stairs, the frightened girl comforted in her mother's arms.

'I returned to London on my own, you know.' He appeared to be boasting, as though he had achieved something heroic and grand. 'A mere lad of twelve years. And I survived, even though there was a war on; or perhaps it was because of the war that I went unnoticed for some time. Eventually I found a home and was adopted by a well-meaning but simple couple who had no—'

Eve had had enough. Scared and disturbed as she was by Pyke's gruesome story, and without knowing how much more she—and Loren—could take, she interrupted him. But she kept her voice falsely mild because she did not want to antagonize him.

'Mr Pyke, I asked you before: what do you want from us?'

'Ah, I can tell I'm boring you. But decent exposition takes time. Besides, it's almost a relief to unburden myself of the knowledge I've carried around with me for decades. The only other person to hear it is completely batty. Magda Cribben neither speaks nor responds to anything put to her; she doesn't even indicate that she understands what's being said. So you see, it's good to share the secret of what happened in Crickley Hall all those years ago with you.'

Fear and uncertainty were beginning to turn into a rising anger and Eve knew she had to control it. After learning that Cam really was dead she had felt almost doped, somehow remote from everything around her. She hadn't become hysterical as might have been expected; she hadn't even wept. She had spent the rest of the day in a listless and detached state, her exhaustion almost overwhelming. That was why she had allowed this man into her home tonight, her will softened by tiredness.

But now she was alert, adrenaline rushing through her system like a whirlwind. She had to stay calm though, for Loren's sake and her own. Eve had to watch her tone so that it revealed no hostility, nothing to arouse this lunatic's ire.

'We can't help you,' she said. 'Whatever it is you want from us, we can't help.' She was emboldened by his reaction—or lack of reaction. 'Please, can't you just collect your equipment and leave? We trusted you.'

'Yes, you did. You did trust me.' He smiled. 'That was your mistake, though.'

'Mistake? I don't understand…'

'You invited me into your home. That was a huge mistake. But meeting your daughter, Loren, outside confirmed what was meant to be. I knew her destiny immediately.'

Eve stiffened, any calmness she might have had swiftly vanishing. She tensed her body, ready to pull Loren to her feet.

He seemed to read her thoughts. 'Let me finish, Eve. Let me explain why this has to happen.'

Pyke rested both hands on the back of his walking stick.

'My life after Crickley Hall would have been fine except for two intrusions. If I told you that both literally drove me mad for a time, I'm sure you'd believe me. You would, wouldn't you?'

Eve was careful. Yes, she could see the madness in his eyes. He was as crazy as his guardian, Augustus Cribben. He was as demented as Magda Cribben. Perhaps Pyke had caught it from the brother and sister like some virulent kind of disease. Or perhaps it had been their mutual insanity that had once united all three of them.

'Sometimes a culmination of events can induce a breakdown,' she ventured tentatively, nervously. Instinct, and the incident with Lili, told her he was a very dangerous man.

He seemed to be looking into the distance but in fact his gaze was inwards. When he spoke it was almost to himself.

'I think I could tolerate the dreams, although they wearied me. But the hauntings… the hauntings are more than I can bear.'

'You told us yesterday you didn't believe in ghosts,' Eve said, genuinely surprised.

'Yes, yes,' Pyke replied impatiently, his attention having returned. 'You said that before and I told you I lied.'

Eve was ready to kick out with her feet if he came close. But Pyke hadn't done with talking.

'I suppose I could live with the dreams even though they came night after night, relentless in their consistency, always the children accusing me of betraying them.'

He banged his walking stick against the floor.

'But I could bear that! I could live with the dreams if only Augustus would stop torturing me, if only he would leave me alone.'

Eve gasped. He was truly insane. And yet… and yet hadn't she felt a presence in this house, something foul, something vile? The ghost of Augustus Cribben? Perhaps she was becoming a little unhinged herself. But a question nagged at her: why should meeting Loren mean so much to him? It confirmed what was meant to be, he had said. What was meant to be? What was Loren's destiny? Already scared, a terrible dread began to rise from deep inside her.

'The hauntings began soon after I returned to London. At least I heard the sound of his cane thrashing against flesh—I knew that sound. Oh yes, I had come to know it well—then his spirit would manifest itself. Even in spirit he would raise that cane against me and I felt its pain as if it were real, even though I'd never physically been struck by it.'

Eve remembered the other night when Loren had screamed in bed, claiming someone had beaten her.

Pyke visibly shuddered. 'Sometimes his image was weak, as if he were slowly losing power. The smell was always there, though, the whiff of strong carbolic soap which he always used to cleanse himself, but mixed with an aroma of what might be described as rotting corpses. At other times the apparitions are strong, as clear to me as you are now, and that's when he seems to sap my energy, leaving me weak and afraid. Sometimes he's completely black and that's when I fear him most.'

Pyke cast his eyes downwards as though studying the end of his walking stick; but his thoughts were elsewhere again, perhaps reliving the hauntings.

'It took me many years to realize the reason for his visits.' Pyke's voice was low. 'Augustus wanted something from me, but still I didn't know what it was.'

•

Lili wanted to escape the slaughter, was desperate to wake from the brutal scenes of remorseless, pitiless violence. But her mind was held captive to the horror and she was compelled to watch…

… There are only three children left alive in the house and they huddle in the sable darkness of the cupboard on the landing. Brenda Prosser, aged ten years, and her younger brother Gerald, aged eight years, and Patience Frost, who is only six years old, clutch each other tightly, the youngest girl in the middle. Patience has wet her knickers.

They have heard the screams echo round the great hall, all of them abruptly cut short. A long silence follows as their guardian searches other rooms downstairs for them. Then the dreaded sound comes to the three survivors, faint at first, but growing louder by the moment.

Swish-thwack!

It's coming closer. Up the stairs.

Swish-thwack!

The children cling together, shivering as one. Gerald's teeth are chattering and his sister claps a hand over his mouth. They mustn't make any noise at all. Gerald and Patience are crying and Brenda's eyes are wide and startled, for she cannot comprehend what is happening to them.

Swish-thwack!

Growing louder.

Swish-thwack!

Almost one sound.