dream? Would he believe Cameron had reached out to her somehow, if only for a few seconds? She was quite sure in herself that it had happened for real, but would Gabe accept it? She had been half asleep, dozing, that was true, and the horrible man with rancid breath and the odd after-smell must have been some kind of waking nightmare, but the presence that could only have been Cam was genuine, she was sure. The undefined vision had come to her. No, she couldn't tell her husband, not yet. Not until she was truly sure that Cam was trying to contact her. Oh, she'd had sight of him before, but these had been in proper dreams, sleep fantasies that quickly faded when she woke. But this afternoon was different. There had always been a uniquely strong bond between her son and herself, and Gabe would never deny it. But would he believe that Cam was now trying to reach her through their psychic link? She doubted it. The idea was too off the wall for someone whose attitude to life had always been pragmatic. No, she would have to prove it to him. But first she had to prove it to
Eve smiled inwardly: for the first time in nearly a year she felt hope, and it was a wonderful thing.
'Honey?'
She realized she had been distracted. 'Yes, Gabe?'
'You really do seem a little different today,' Gabe persisted, hunching forward over the tabletop and brushing her hand with his fingertips.
'Perhaps…' she began to say, but Chester, lying on his blanket by the kitchen door, suddenly shot to his feet and gave out a sharp yelp.
Surprised, they both turned to the dog as one. Chester's fur was bristling, his short tail erect, his teeth bared. Eyes wide and bright, he was staring at the open doorway to the hall.
'What's wrong, Chester?' Gabe pushed back from the table, the chair legs scuffing the linoleum. 'What is it, boy?'
Then both he and Eve heard it.
A faint scuffling noise coming through the doorway.
As if frozen—they had become wary of Crickley Hall's inexplicable noises by now—they listened.
The distant sound continued and Chester's yelps and barks relapsed to a whining. He cowered, his whole length close to the floor, front paws pushing himself against the door to the garden.
Gabe rose and went to the threshold of the hall. Eve followed.
Behind him, her hands resting on his shoulder, she tried to locate the source of the sound.
They both peered up at the hall's high ceiling.
•
Loren and Cally were standing outside the bathroom door, also looking upwards, Loren with her hands on the balustrade, Cally peeking through the rails. They were open-mouthed, their upturned faces pale.
Below, in the hall, Eve hissed into Gabe's ear, 'What is it?'
His gaze did not leave the ceiling. After a moment, he whispered back, 'Sounds like footsteps. Lots of 'em.'
•
They crowded round the door on the landing that led to the attic room—or rooms—the one place that neither Gabe nor Eve had yet visited.
'Is it locked?' Eve asked, for some reason speaking in a half-whisper.
'Don't know,' Gabe replied, his own voice quiet. 'Key's in the lock anyway.' He transferred the unlit flashlight (they couldn't know if the lights beyond the door would work) to his left hand and gripped the doorknob with his right. There was a slight resistance, as if the lock might be rusting inside, but it turned. He pulled, then pushed at the door and it opened inwardly easily enough, although there was an initial squeak of its hinges. Now he clicked on his flashlight.
The sound of numerous soft footsteps from above had faded away (faded as if turned down by a volume control) minutes before and now the family was curious but understandably cautious.
'There's a light switch just inside the door.' Gabe pointed towards it with his beam.
Eve reached past him and flicked the switch. Nothing happened.
She aimed her own small torch up the narrow staircase leading to the attic.
'Look, there's a light connection hanging down, but there's no lightbulb.'
'I'm going up,' Gabe announced.
'We're coming with you,' Eve informed him.
'Not a good idea. There could be, well, you know…' He didn't want to say it in front of his daughters.
'Rats,' Loren filled in for him.
'Might be squirrels.' Squirrels sounded more appealing.
'Gabe, we heard
'Oh yeah? And what's the alternative?'
'Who knows with this house?'
Cally tugged at her waist. 'What is it, Mummy?'
Eve looked down at her, aware that any mention of ghosts would frighten both her daughters.
'Let's go and look,' she said finally.
'All of us.' Cally clutched at her even more tightly.
'All right. All of us.' Eve knew the girls would refuse to stay downstairs by themselves, so she didn't argue.
'You first, Daddy,' Cally insisted anxiously.
'Yep, me first.' Gabe grinned his wide tight-lipped grin, one that was wryly resolute rather than happy.
The wooden steps creaked as he made his way up, his family following close behind, Cally tightly gripping her mother's hand, Loren coming up last and taking each step carefully as if one might break beneath her.
The staircase smelt of rotting wood and dust, and it turned a corner beyond which Gabe found an open hatch. No proper door, just an open hatch.
He poked his head through and paused, shining the light around what was more than just a roof space. The room was long, even though a partition wall appeared to section it off at the far end, but the ceiling was low. Dormer windows were built into its slanting walls and two rough brick chimney stacks disappeared into the roof (there must have been similar stacks out of sight on the other side of the partition, for the house had more than two chimneys on its roof). Bare floorboards ran its length and there was no furniture other than what looked like iron-framed cotbeds piled against one corner.
Dust motes danced crazily in the beams of light as if disturbed by fierce draughts. Yet no windows were open or broken and he felt no breeze on his face. Only faint moonlight shone through the grimed glass, casting dark shadows around the room. He pointed his light at the skeletal cotbeds again and realized that this place must have been the dormitory for the evacuees who had come to Crickley Hall all those years ago.
Eve's voice came from the stairs below. 'What's the holdup, Gabe?' She still spoke in a half-whisper as if afraid of being heard by someone other than her husband.
'Just checking—' He caught himself whispering his reply and continued in a normal voice. 'Just checking it out. Doesn't appear to be anything much up here 'cept a bunch of old bedsteads.'
He climbed through the hatchway and stood looking around. What had stirred up the dust?
Eve helped Cally through and Loren scrambled up behind them. Eve swung her torch beam from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling.
'Gabe. The dust…'
'Yeah, I know. Can't feel or see anything that could've caused it.'
He ran the light the length of the room. Two bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling.
'Can you see a switch anywhere?'
Eve turned the torch towards the wall nearest to the open hatch. 'Over here,' she said, going to the single light switch that was fixed into the angled wall. She pressed it down, but only one overhead light came on and its power was insufficient, as, it seemed, were most of the lights in Crickley Hall. It was positioned at the far end of the long room and it did manage to reveal a door in the wood partitioning. She shivered. It was very cold in the attic.
Eve spotted the iron cotbeds piled together and taking up most of one corner. There must be a dozen, she
