The Secret of Crickley Hall

'You don't know that. Hitting her might only have made matters worse.'

Gabe saw that it would be pointless to continue defending his daughter. And he certainly didn't want it to sound like he was countenancing what she'd done (Eve would kill him if he did).

'How's your hand?' he asked Loren.

She held up her right hand so that he could see. 'I thought I'd broken some bones, but it's all right now, just a bit sore.'

Gabe couldn't help chuckling as he examined her knuckles. 'That must've been some punch.'

'I made her nose bleed.'

'You kept your thumb on the outside like I told you? You didn't tuck it inside your fist?'

'Gabe, will you stop this.' There was no humour whatsoever in Eve's expression. 'You shouldn't be giving her boxing lessons.'

'Hey, I'm making sure Loren doesn't break any of her own bones.'

'She's a girl. She's not supposed to fight. And if it comes to that, nor should boys. It's uncivilized.'

Gabe held up both hands in submission. 'Okay, you win. It was a bad thing and Loren won't do it again. Right, Slim?'

Loren nodded her head and Eve softened. 'But you'll let us know if this girl tries to bully you again, you hear me?'

Again, Loren nodded. 'Yes, Mum,' she said. But she and her father exchanged a secret smile.

•

Gabe stamped his feet on the rough mat just inside the kitchen door, shedding wet mud from his boots. Loren, who had accompanied him in the search for Chester, was already hanging her coat on the rack by the door.

Eve appraised Gabe anxiously and he shook his head. 'No luck,' he told her. 'No sign of him anywhere.'

Cally looked distraught and Loren went to Eve for a hug. Arms round Loren's shoulders, Eve said: 'What are we going to do?'

Gabe slipped off his coat and hung it beside Loren's. 'He might turn up on his own, either tonight or some time tomorrow. I'll make another search in the morning, a better one in the daylight.'

'Our London telephone number is on his collar. If someone finds Chester they won't be able to reach us.'

'I'll ring the local police if I don't find him in the morning. And we'll tell Percy to keep a lookout. I'm sure he'll pass the word on to the locals, so there'll be plenty keeping an eye out for the mutt. We'll get Chester back, don't you worry.'

•

'What's changed your mind?' Gabe was bewildered. 'A coupla days ago you didn't like Crickley Hall, you couldn't wait for us to pack our bags and leave.'

Gabe and Eve were in the sitting room. A fire blazed in the hearth, but Gabe had to lean forward in his armchair to catch any warmth. Eve sat opposite him on the couch and she, too, leaned forward, a mug of coffee in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. His coffee mug stood on a coaster close by his foot.

She did not know how to respond to Gabe's question. Blurting out that she'd seen ghosts here wouldn't do at all, because he would demand some kind of evidence of their existence and how could you prove something that wasn't real? He had not been witness to the dancing children; he had not felt Cam's hand soothing his brow.

'Come on, Eve, something must've changed your mind, so help me, tell me what it is.' He couldn't conceal his exasperation.

'I'm sorry, Gabe. It's difficult to explain.'

'Try me.'

'I just feel we need time to get used to the place.'

'That's what I said the other day and you wouldn't listen. It's cold and it's damp, and we keep hearing strange noises. And don't forget Chester—something here scared the hell out of the poor mutt. We don't need this kind of thing at this point in our lives. We got enough to worry about.' His tone changed, dropped in pitch. 'Look, I could see the agent tomorrow, see what else he's got on his books. We could probably be out by the end of the week. What d'you say?'

'Let's give it more time.' What she meant was give her more time, time to discover the meaning of the haunting, time to find out if it had anything to do with their missing son. She thought of a compromise. 'Let's wait just a few more days. If you still feel the same by then we'll move.'

'I can't help thinking that it should be me arguing with you to stay. That's how it was before. Why can't you tell me what's happened to change your mind?'

He was no fool; but then, she already knew that. 'Go with me on this, Gabe,' she pleaded and said no more.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. 'Okay, you win,' he said reluctantly, not quite sure now why he wanted to leave Crickley Hall. Viewing more properties, packing, then unpacking again—he sure as hell didn't need it. But the compromise was fair. Sure, the house was uncomfortable—although it was almost cosy sitting here in front of a roaring fire, even if the heat did not extend too far beyond the hearth. Maybe they did need more time to settle in. Maybe Chester just hadn't liked the strangeness of the house—he was too used to their home in London. Maybe there were odd noises, puddles on the floor, doors that would not stay locked, but there was probably a logical reason for all those things. Wasn't there?

Anyway, what could happen to them here? It was just a cranky old house that, now it had new occupants, was creaking back to life.

He smiled at his wife, who looked even more beautiful in the warm glow of the firelight, a colour back in her cheeks and lively little flames reflected in her eyes.

'Okay, Eve,' he said. 'We'll give it another try.'

After all, what could happen to them here? A house was just a house.

•

It was as if Crickley Hall had paused to take a breath.

There were no incidents that night, no rappings, no sounds of running feet, no 'whimpering' from closed closets. Nothing untoward occurred during that night and the Caleigh family slept peacefully. Even Eve rested, although her mind was filled with ethereal images of spinning tops and dancing children.

Loren and Cally fretted over their missing pet for a short while, but sleepy tiredness soon overcame them both. Gabe was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The wind that rushed through Devil's Cleave to the bay below died away and the rain became a light patter.

All was still and silent in Crickley Hall, save for the creaking of the cellar door as it opened a few inches.

27: TUESDAY

Not for the first time Gabe strode across the hall to close the open cellar door. He examined the lock first, though, turning its long key backwards and forwards, having only to use slight pressure to move the locking bolt in and out. There appeared to be no reason for the door to keep unlocking itself and straying open a few inches, enough for a breeze to rise up from the cellar below and escape into the hall. The breeze, he realized, must come from the well down there, rushing waters creating strong draughts of air. But strong enough to push a locked door open? It seemed unlikely, but it also seemed to be the case.

Opening the door even wider, he peered into the inky gloom. The dismal daylight from the hall itself did not travel far into the stairway: it was as if the blackness was pushing back the light, rather than the other way round. Without a candle or flashlight, he ruminated, a person would be swallowed up by it. As if for reassurance, Gabe reached in and flipped down the light switch. The light that came on at the bottom of the stairs was barely fit for the job, for its dusty glow had only a limited effect on the darkness. The smell that wafted up was dank and unpleasant and the low, muffled roar of the underground river was somehow disturbing, as if it were boasting its threat, bragging its danger.

Gabe closed the door and the river's sound diminished, could only be heard if he really listened. He twisted the key again so that the door was locked, and he wondered how long it would remain so. Eve had suggested that he fix a bolt to it, high enough to be out of Cally's reach, and he resolved to visit a hardware store when he was