The Secret of Crickley Hall

spinning tops. I used to have one like it when I was little.'

'Let's see.' He knelt on the floorboards and picked up the toy with his free hand. He wiped it on his sweater sleeve and bright colours sprang into life.

Cally gave out a small squeal of delight.

'Don't get too hopeful, Cally. Doubt it's gonna work after all this time.'

He steadied the spinning top on the floor, then pushed down its spiral plunger. It gave out a rusty growl as it spun one and half revolutions before stopping with an ominous clonk.

'Yep, probably rusted inside.'

'Can you mend it, Daddy?' Cally asked hopefully.

'Sure, I can try.'

'Can we take it downstairs? Can I play with it?'

'Lot of other toys here to choose from, Sparky.'

'No, this one, Daddy. Please.'

Gabe straightened. 'Okay, let me carry it 'til we can give it a good wipeover, okay?'

'Yes, please.'

Eve, apart from them in the gloom, felt a sudden shiver run through her. She thought of the sounds they had heard coming through the ceiling when they were downstairs. A scurrying. A rushing of feet. From the attic room that had once been used as a dormitory.

A sound that was loud on the bare floorboards; yet somehow light. As though the sounds belonged to children scampering in bare or stockinged feet.

Running, scattering, children.

18: THIRD NIGHT

Yet another night they slept together, the girls snuggled between Gabe and Eve. The only difference this time was that the dog refused to leave the kitchen, the rain having forced Gabe to bring him in. Chester had resisted Gabe's tugging at his collar, whimpering at his master's coaxing, haunches low. Despite Gabe's entreaties, the mongrel had refused to leave his spot beside the garden door; he cowered there, eyes wild with fear that only he could understand.

In the end, Gabe could only shake his head in mystified frustration. Sure, Eve was right—there was something weird going on in this place—but last night the mutt had howled to be allowed upstairs with the family; tonight nothing would induce Chester to leave his blanket by the door. The engineer was certain that if he opened the outside door the dog would be through it like the wind and this time, in the dark, they'd never find him.

Exasperated, Gabe had left Chester there, hoping he wouldn't howl in the night.

Naturally, Loren and Cally wanted to know who or what had been running around in the old dormitory earlier (although Cally had seemed more interested in the spinning top she was allowed to bring downstairs) and there was no logical explanation either parent could give them. Gabe had unconvincingly muttered about airlocks and waterpipes once more and the girls were not taken in. They were too tired, though, to be more curious, especially Loren, who, unusually, wanted to go to bed. Gabe and Eve knew their daughters would be too jittery to fall sleep on their own, despite their tiredness, so had retired with them.

Because of this, Gabe and Eve had no opportunity to discuss the phenomenon between themselves, and the truth was, neither of them felt like it that night; they both lacked the energy.

They were all fast sleep within minutes of settling down and the only noise in Crickley Hall, apart from the distressed mewlings of Chester in the kitchen, was the creak of rough floorboards and timbers, and the faint but constant whispering of rushing water that crept up from the bowels of the house and through the open cellar door…

19: MONDAY

'You nervous, Slim?' Gabe changed up a gear and stole a glance at Loren, who was strapped into the Range Rover's passenger seat beside him.

There was no guile about Loren; she was still young enough to be open and honest and totally without front. She responded without hesitation: 'Yes, Dad.'

'Don't be. You'll soon make new friends.'

'I'm not from around here.'

'It'll make you more interesting.'

He slowed the car, indicated left, and swung out from the narrow lane with its high hedges on either side into a wider and busier road.

'I've spoken to the headteacher, Mr Horkins, a coupla times, once on the phone and once in person when I scouted out the school last time I was down here. Seems an okay guy, runs a tight ship. The kids impressed me when I visited, almost civilized, y'know?'

Gabe was taking Loren to Merrybridge Middle School on her first morning, but the school bus would bring her back in the afternoon. They had all overslept, even Cally, who normally could be relied on to be wide awake and singing loudly or playing with her dolls at the crack of dawn. But it had been a late night for her and a troubling one for them all. Gabe had lamely put the sleep-in down to 'good country air' and there had been no time to discuss the events—the mysterious running footsteps—of the previous night. A quick breakfast of coffee and toast for Gabe, cereals for the girls, and then he and Loren set out for Merrybridge. Chester, who once again had been tied outside to the tree, barked after them as they hurried across the bridge.

Gabe slowed down with the flow of traffic. It seemed even coastal Devon had its rush hour.

'It's horrible not knowing anybody,' whinged Loren, gazing ahead through the windscreen, chewing at her lower lip.

'Hey, you'll find someone to hook up with. You're good at making friends.'

'I really don't want to go to a new school.'

'It's only for a short time. We talked about this.'

'Will Mummy get… will she get better?'

'I think being away from our old house might help her come to terms with the situation. New surroundings, new people.' He didn't add that the first anniversary of Cam's disappearance was almost upon them. 'It won't make her forget, but it might divert her attention for a while, maybe help her get a grip.'

'But she's been sad for such a long time.' Loren turned towards her father. 'Mummy still cries when she's alone. I can always tell, even when she pretends she's all right.'

'I know.'

'We're all sad about Cam. I still miss him a lot, but…' Her words trailed off.

'But eventually you have to get on with life.' Gabe finished for her. He took a quick look her way. She was pale and troubled and there were faint smudges under her eyes.

'Sometimes I feel guilty because I think of Cam less and less,' she said.

'Don't be. It's natural. You can't grieve for ever, especially not at your age. So long as you remember him from time to time, it's okay. No one expects more of you.'

'I still cry sometimes.'

'Sure, but not so much any more, right? And that's good, Loren, it's part of the healing. But we all have to carry on with our lives, it's the only thing to do.'

'Dad…'

Gabe felt her eyes on him again.

'Cam is dead, isn't he? He must be, mustn't he? He couldn't just disappear.'

It was the first time Loren had come straight out with it and he had been dreading such a moment. What to tell her? What did he himself believe? What did he really believe?

'I don't know,' he answered after a few moments. He couldn't lie to her; yet neither could he affirm what he knew they all thought. There was no other way to say it. 'Until they find his body we can only assume he's been taken away by someone.'