Rossbridger, still spoke highly of the man. The only person left who knew what'd been goin' on at Crickley Hall was Magda Cribben an' she weren't sayin'. But y'know, I think Rossbridger were in league with the authorities who wanted things hushed up, 'cause Cribben were buried without ceremony an' his grave were right at the back of the graveyard.'
Percy managed a faint smile for Eve, but the melancholy remained in his faded eyes.
'I'll be getting' on with the garden. I've given yer enough to think on.'
Eve stood too. 'Thank you, Percy,' was all she could think of to say; her head was reeling by now.
Donning his cap and adjusting it on his head, he walked to the door and turned back to her before opening it.
'Are things all right fer yer here, Missus Caleigh?' he asked.
Eve wondered what she could tell him, what he would believe. 'Yes, Percy. Everything's fine.'
'You'd let me know…?' He did not complete the sentence.
Know what? That Crickley Hall was haunted? That the spirits of the children who had died here were somehow making her aware of their presence? That there might possibly be a connection between them and her own missing son? It was too soon to tell. Besides, she could scarcely believe it herself.
'Everything's fine,' she repeated. And her mind was suddenly made up: she knew what she should do.
25: BULLY
Now it was not in Loren Caleigh's nature to hit anybody; in fact, never in her life had she raised a hand or fist in anger, let alone physically struck someone. She abhorred violence in any form and she hated confrontation almost as much. She didn't like it when Dad and little Cam used to play-wrestle on the carpet, Dad allowing her tiny brother to think he'd pinned him down before Dad reared up and held him high over his head until Cam, who loved it when that happened, 'squealed' for mercy, both of them ending up giggling and rolling around the floor again. It always made Mummy laugh too (Mummy laughed a lot in those days), but Loren herself had only smiled, pretending to enjoy the game.
Then one day, Loren had returned home from school and burst into tears. It turned out that a particularly nasty girl in a class a year above Loren's had been picking on her for several weeks, for no other reason, it seemed, than Loren had an American father, someone who 'talked funny'. (Gabe and Eve suspected there were probably other reasons, such as their daughter's own shyness and her quiet personality.) Eve had wanted to complain to the school's headmistress, but Loren had begged her not to. 'It will only make matters worse,' she had wailed. So Dad, much to Mummy's protests, had shown Loren what to do when you were picked on by a bully who was not only older but bigger too. This, of course, was if you'd been pushed to the limit and there was no other way to settle things.
The trick was to get in the first blow. Once you knew there was only one way for the situation to go and it was bound to get physical, you had to strike first. But—'this is important, this is very important'—aim for the bridge of the nose. Not the tip of the nose, nor any other place like the jaw, and never the chest (belly if you just wanted to wind them, but it was not advised). Just that spot at the bridge of the nose, 'smack-down between the peepers'. That should do enough damage to finish it right there and then—'And if it doesn't, get the hell out.'
Warming to the subject—and to Mummy's further chagrin—Dad had told her: 'If your opponent is much bigger than you, or there's more of 'em, never, but
Mummy realized Dad was half fooling around, but she was angry anyway. Violence could never be an answer, she'd said, and Dad had winked at Loren.
As it happened, the bully girl in question was removed from the school after it was discovered that she was forcing girls even younger than Loren to hand over their dinner money and pocket money. Also, a supply teacher's purse had gone missing from her handbag and the bully girl was discovered in the girls' toilets counting out the change by another teacher. So, much to Loren's relief (and her parents'), the problem was resolved. Whether or not she would have had the courage to 'punch the bully's lights out', as Gabe would have it, was another matter entirely.
But two years later, on a damp Monday afternoon in October, she had certainly used the tactic on Seraphina Blaney. To her dismay, Loren had found herself in the same class at Merrybridge Middle School as the girl she had met—acrimoniously—just before. She remembered her in the store at Hollow Bay, a big girl, stocky, with a face that might have been pretty had the jaw not been too heavy, the forehead too bulbous and the thin lips too scowling.
The moment they set eyes on each other, which was when Loren was being introduced to the class by the teacher, Loren knew she was in for a hard time. Her eyes had locked with Seraphina's, and Loren had recognized the girl who had stared at her with such spite on Saturday. Seraphina had whispered something to the girl sitting next to her and they had both sniggered into their hands. It had turned into a bad day.
Loren had been subjected to mean stares and flicked elastic bands to the back of her neck throughout lessons. At lunchtime, Seraphina, seated at a table, had deliberately stuck out a foot as Loren passed by with her tray of food; Loren had stumbled, tipped the tray, and the full plate on it had skittered across the floor. Losing the macaroni with cheese and jacket potato wasn't the worst part: it was the humiliation that turned her face beet-red in front of the school that Loren hated.
It hadn't ended there. Throughout the rest of the afternoon Loren had been subjected to hissed name-calling, masticated paper pellets aimed at her whenever the teacher's back was turned and pathetic take-offs of her London accent. Fortunately, Seraphina appeared only to have a small coterie of friends to enjoy the tormenting; most of the other pupils were friendly and curious about her in a good way.
She managed to make a friend of another girl from Hollow Bay, a shy little thing those name was Tessa Windle. They had connected when Tessa had helped Loren pick up the remains of her lunch after Seraphina had tripped her. She was the same age as Loren, but seemed a year younger; her Devonian accent was slight and her manner gentle. By the end of the school day, she and Loren had become firm friends.
•
With an exaggerated flourish the driver drew back the blue people-carrier's passenger door.
'All aboard who's goin' aboard,' he called out to the mass of blue-uniformed pupils spilling out of the school gates. Members of his boarding party broke off from the main crowd, skirting round waiting mothers and fathers, arriving at the minibus in groups of two and three, eight of them in all for the journey home to Hollow Bay. Loren, with her new friend Tessa, waited as three boys ahead of them climbed into the vehicle, while the driver looked her over with an unattractive grin. His teeth were yellow, each one isolated from its neighbour by a discernible gap that emphasized their crookedness. Long, lank hair fell to his narrow dandruffy shoulders and he scratched an unshaven chin as he appraised the unfamiliar passenger.
'You'll be the new 'un, will yer?' He scrutinized Loren's face as if suspecting her of carrying some contagious disease that might infect his regulars. 'Laura Caleigh, 'ennit? I was told to expect an extra passenger this afternoon.'
'Loren.'
'Eh?'
'My name's Loren.'
'Laura, Loren. Same thing.'
She wanted to tell him it wasn't—her name was Loren, not Laura; there was a difference, but she didn't like the smell of his rank breath so didn't want to open up a dialogue.
She made to move past him but he said, 'My name's Frank. You can call me Mr Mulley, all right?'
Loren was about to follow Tessa into the bus when a stocky arm blocked her way. Seraphina Blaney glared at her.
'After me, grockle.' She gave Loren a shove.
Grockle, Loren knew, was a derogatory term for tourist or outsider. The girl with Seraphina gave a chortling snort, while Seraphina herself gave Loren a tight-lipped contemptuous smile. Loren chose not to respond and waited
