The Secret of Crickley Hall

'Please call me Eve.'

'Eve, I don't want you to expect too much.'

'I won't,' Eve said unconvincingly. Lili seemed different today, so much softer than when they first met yesterday. The hardness was gone from those green eyes, which made her even prettier. Inwardly, Eve prayed that the woman really had telepathic powers and could reach Cam with her mind. She was glad Gabe wasn't there, because he wouldn't have approved of this—he was too grounded to believe in such things, and that was why Eve hadn't told him of her visit to the crafts shop in Pulvington. He might even be angry with her for going down such a path. But she had nothing to lose: she would use anything that might bring their son back.

Lili Peel placed the glass on the table, then, holding Cam's picture at almost arm's length away from her, she stared at it for a full minute. Eve saw that the psychic's forehead was furrowed with concentration and she held her breath, her own body tensing, thinking only of Cam as if that might help the psychic. Eve had to blink away the tears that threatened.

Lili slowly drew the photograph towards herself and pressed it between her small breasts. She closed her eyes and her wrinkled brow smoothed out as though she was no longer concentrating quite so intensely. Eve could not know this, but Lili was allowing her thoughts to roam free. She had filled her consciousness with images of the boy and was now attempting to 'tune in' to his psyche, even though she could not yet know whether he was alive or dead.

Her breathing became shallow, faster, and her eyelids flickered but did not open.

Eve was alarmed, worried that the psychic might hyperventilate, but Lili's breaths gradually became calm once more and one hand fell away to grip the arm of the chair she was sitting on. Her fingers clenched, then settled round the cushioned arm. Her breathing was deep now, the photograph against her chest rising and falling with the rhythm.

Eve wondered if the psychic was in a trance.

But Lili was only in a semi-trance. She was aware of the room around her, aware of Eve's presence on the couch opposite and aware of the house itself. Again aware of the deep oppression here.

Her head dropped forward, chin resting on her upper chest. She murmured something that Eve did not catch. Perhaps it was only a moan.

Lili's body became agitated, her shoulders giving little shrugs, the fingers resting on the chair's arm twitching. Her head rolled slightly, but remained dropped. Her eyelids flickered once more, then shut completely. The disturbing pallor returned to her face.

Eventually, her body relaxed and became very still. Her breathing was normal and, at first, Eve thought the psychic had fallen asleep; either that or she really was in a deep trance.

Then Lili's head slowly raised itself, her eyes remaining closed. Initially, her voice was but a whisper and Eve leaned even further forward to listen.

'I can… sense… some… someone,' Lili said quietly and Eve strained to hear. 'Yes, someone… very young… a boy, a very young boy…'

Eve's heart leapt. Could the psychic have reached Cam so soon, and so easily? Was it possible? Or was it a trick? Was Lili Peel a charlatan like many so-called mediums? But then, why should she try to deceive Eve? There had been no mention of a fee, so what would be the purpose? If Lili were genuine, Eve would gladly pay any charge she might demand; no price would be too high. Please, God, let this be real.

Lili's delicate lips moved again. The boy… he's so lost. He's calling… calling for help. He wants… he wants somebody to find him. He's in darkness… so alone…'

'Lili,' Eve tried, 'ask the boy who he is. Is it Cam? Please find out.'

'It… isn't clear. The connection between us is weak…'

'Ask him, Lili, please,' Eve implored. 'Is it my son?'

Lili opened her eyes and turned them towards Eve and her gaze seemed to come back from somewhere distant. 'I—I don't know,' she stammered. 'The voice is so faint. The… the contact between us isn't strong enough. Let me keep trying. But please, Eve, you've got to be quiet. Don't ask any questions, not yet'

'I'm sorry…' Eve pressed her lips together, determined not to distract the woman again. The psychic had reached her son, she was sure of that. But Lili's next words stunned her.

'I can't tell if I'm in touch with his spirit or his mind. It just isn't clear enough…'

Despite her resolution, Eve had to speak out. 'You said the boy was lost. Cam is lost to us, you know that. It has to be him.'

Lili raised her hand to stop Eve. 'The thoughts I'm receiving are fragile. He's afraid.'

'Of course he is! He doesn't like where he is, he wants to be back with me, with his family, don't you see?' Eve could no longer stem the flow of tears. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, their grip so fierce her knuckles were white.

'I can't tell why he's afraid,' said Lili helplessly. 'Nothing is right. He's too far away.'

Eve was desperate. 'Please,' she urged, 'please…'

Lili's eyes closed again and she leaned back in the armchair. Her face was tight, drawn, the mental struggle reflected in her pained features.

And then something changed.

Lili's eyes snapped open. She twisted in the chair, cowering, her arms up before her face. She groaned and her head turned from one side to the other. It was as if she were in agony.

Eve was startled by the transformation. Lili's mouth yawned open as if in horror and her eyes were wide, gaping up at the ceiling. Dropping the photograph of Cam, she clawed at her own neck with fevered hands.

And Eve shivered as she felt the dark oppression that had infiltrated the room; it weighed upon her like a dense but unseen mantle. Light seemed to be forced from the room, which was now filled with onerous gloom. Even the fire in the hearth seemed to wither under the presence, the flames dying, losing any warmth.

Lili's arms and shoulders shivered, but Eve couldn't tell if it was because of the room's coldness or because the psychic was terrified. Vapour clouds were expelled from her open mouth in short gasps and Eve attempted to rise from the couch to go to her, but she found herself transfixed, frozen, unable even to lift a hand. She was temporarily paralysed.

Meanwhile, Lili Peel's shivers ran through her whole body, from head to toe, her shoulders shuddering against the back of the armchair. Her neck and spine arched in some sort of spasm and her lips quivered; both of her hands clutched at the ends of the armrests.

She moaned, then cried out, 'Go away, leave me alone! You don't belong here any more!'

Eve wondered at whom or what the words were directed. She and Lili were the only persons in the room, even though she could feel a potent and intimidating presence. And the smell, a malodour that stung the nostrils.

Lili Peel appeared to be having some kind of seizure: her back remained arched and her jaw had dropped so that her mouth was gaping even more; her eyes stared but they were glazed, unseeing. She began to rise from the armchair, still gripping its arms, her stomach pushed forward, head tilted backwards as far as it could go.

Eve felt suddenly nauseous and she fought against it, swallowing hard, breathing through her mouth rather than her nose. It hardly helped. She struggled inwardly to leave the couch, but still couldn't rise. Her spine felt locked, and her flesh prickled. Why couldn't she move?

The answer came to her as a mental taunt: it was sheer terror that held her there; she was too afraid to move. All she could do was watch the psychic, whose body now writhed violently in the armchair. Despite her own fear, Eve was concerned for Lili, afraid that in her paroxysms she would hurt herself. Once more, Eve strained to move and this time she was able to raise her arms. Her trembling fingers reached out to the distressed psychic.

But Lili abruptly collapsed in the armchair and became still. Her head sank to her chest again and her eyes closed. Every second or two an arm, or a leg, or a shoulder, twitched, but she remained slumped in the cushioned chair.

There came a stillness to the room.

And it became even colder.

In the hearth the flames almost died.