The Secret of Crickley Hall

kind of contraption on the cellar door—as I told you, it just won't stay shut.'

'Certainly. I'll use a spring balance and measure the amount of force it takes to open it. It's probably due to strong draughts. And you won't enter the rooms I've sealed?'

'As long as we know which ones they are.'

'I'll site my movement-triggered cameras and tape recorders, but won't set them 'til you're all out of the way in your beds.'

'I'd rather you didn't stay the night.'

'That's fine. I'll leave late and return first thing tomorrow morning. As long as you keep clear of my little, er, traps, there'll be no problem.'

'I hate to turn you out on a night like this…'

'Perhaps the storm will have broken by the time I'm done here.' Besides, now he didn't have to wait until the husband was asleep. 'I'm sure I'll be all right.'

He lifted his suitcase and looked towards Loren again. 'So lead on, young lady; I'm entirely in your hands.' How true, he thought, oh so very true.

Loren produced a wan but polite smile. Cally only scowled at the man when her big sister dropped her hand.

67: INTO THE STORM

Lili drove cautiously, slowly, her nose only inches away from the windscreen. The Citroen's wiper blades did their best, but the rain seemed to be hurling itself at the glass, making visibility extremely poor. Several times she had almost resolved to turn back and go home, for some of the minor roads were flooded with pond-like puddles and each time she went through one she worried that the car might stall and leave her stranded. Yet she kept going, driving steadily, determined to reach Crickley Hall that night. That crucial night. She could still hear echoes of the children's calls in the deeper caverns of her mind, too distant to catch their words, but knowing—sensing—her help was needed.

She ducked her head instinctively every time there was a lightning flash followed by a thunderclap. Lili had never realized that thunder and lightning could continue for such a long time; the thunderclouds had remained localized and that puzzled her, for surely the high winds should have moved them on?

Another car was ahead of her and its brakelights were constantly winking on and off as if the driver were being even more cautious than Lili. Maybe it was a good thing. She needed to keep her speed down and, anyway, following another vehicle made things easier for her. Let them make the mistakes.

The car in front, however, soon turned off onto a side road, leaving Lili to fend for herself. Suddenly blinded by blazing headlights coming at her from the opposite direction, she pulled up sharply, thankful there was nothing behind. Three cars went by, all of them on full beam, the second one dazzling the first's rearview mirror, the third dazzling the second's, a dangerous way to be driving, especially on such a treacherous night.

More lightning, more thunder. A good night for hauntings, she half joked to herself. If anything, she discovered, it was more hazardous travelling along main roads than down country lanes, for the high hedges of the latter offered some protection from the battering wind, even though the branches of some trees bowed perilously close to the Citroen's windscreen and roof.

Coming to a crossroads, she could just make out the signpost, one of its four arms pointing directly ahead to Hollow Bay. She checked left to right, and left to right again, squinting into the storm for headlights approaching in either direction. The road was eerily empty of traffic now; but then, what kind of fool would be out on a night like this? She gunned the engine and shot towards the relative safety of the opposite lane, a mighty burst of wind rocking the small car halfway across. Her hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, keeping the car on course, and then she was in the narrow lane, this section of it at least protected by tall, grassy banks. Hollow Bay was now no more than a couple of miles away, she reassured herself. Not far. Just difficult with all this wind and rain. No going back now, Lili told herself. Despite the heavy dread she felt. Besides, it was that dread that was drawing her to Crickley Hall. She was needed. By the children. She was sure.

After another nightmarish mile, Lili reached the turn-off for the harbour village and was mercifully aware that it wasn't too far to the house from this point. Wind whistled round the vehicle and rain pummelled it ceaselessly. Thinner trees waved and bushes shook wildly. Lili anxiously rubbed the steam of her breath from the glass in front of her with the sleeve of her coat; she had to keep leaning over the steering wheel to get even closer to the windscreen just to see the roadway ahead as shooting rain pounded the road's surface like exploding bullets. The psychic bit into her lower lip and her knuckles were white on the wheel.

Then it happened.

Lightning forked its jagged way down from the turbulent skies to strike an elm tree on Lili's left. Sparks flew out from it and a small fire flared. With a sharp grinding sound the trunk began to split. Her scream was muted by the thunder that quickly followed as the tree started to fall towards her, and it might have been fright or reflex that made her stamp on the accelerator. Branches that were still in leaf scraped against the car's rear window as the tree toppled with a mighty, juddering crash and Lily only stopped the Citroen when she knew it was well clear.

The psychic twisted round to look back and all she could see through the rain was a thick mass of branches and leaves completely covering the road. She let out a shuddering breath as she turned and rested her forehead on the top of the steering wheel.

Oh God, that was close, she thought. Oh dear God, that was very close. Her whole body was trembling, especially her neck and shoulders which, paradoxically, also felt taut.

She took a few moments to calm herself before starting the car again. Trembling still, she drove onwards to Crickley Hall.

•

There was a vehicle parked in the short bay area, but it wasn't Gabe Caleigh's. Lili knew he drove a Range Rover and this was another make entirely, a Ford of some kind. The rain was beating down so hard and the night was so dark—except when lightning strobed; then everything became a dramatic silvery-grey—she couldn't even tell its colour. The Range Rover was not to be seen and she briefly wondered if the Caleigh family had left the house. But then she saw the dull glow of a lighted window across the river. She parked close behind the Ford and her headlights revealed it to be a Mondeo, dark red in colour. A shallow spray haloed its roof as rain bounced off the metal.

As soon as Lili got out of her car she was drenched, her blonde hair darkened and flattened to her scalp. She wished she had brought an umbrella along—her mind had been too preoccupied when she had dashed from the flat—but then dismissed the idea: it would easily have blown away in this gale. Leaning forward, shoulders hunched almost to her ears and holding her coat closed with one hand, she made her way to the bridge.

Pausing before stepping on to it, Lili looked over at Crickley Hall. There were lights on in most of the windows, she now saw, upstairs and down; she thought she even saw a glow coming from the small attic windows. Holding onto the handrail, the psychic put one tentative ankle-booted foot onto the bridge and stopped. She could feel the wooden structure shaking beneath her.

Dark though the night was, she could see the white spume of the hurtling, swollen river. The wild waters were only inches below the foot planks of the bridge, and spray misted over the boards so that they were dangerously slippery. She gripped the handrail more tightly.

Lightning zigzagged from the sky and in its argent illumination the river looked terrifying, as if about to burst its banks. Broken tree branches, twigs and loose shrubbery cluttered against the rail on the other side, and the rail she held onto quivered in her grip.

With great trepidation, she placed her other foot on the bridge. It seemed even more shaky now that she had both feet on the walkway, even more unstable. Sliding her hand along the soaked rail, Lili warily moved further on, the wind whipping rain against her exposed face, her boots slipping on the bridge's slick surface. Halfway across she felt the whole structure shift, as if the raging water underneath might carry it away. The bridge only moved an inch or so, but nevertheless it was enough to make her panic.

The psychic ran the rest of the way, her feet skidding on the boards, only her hand on the rail saving her from falling. Just before she reached the end, the bridge lurched again as if to break free of its supports, and the movement, slight though it was, sent Lili staggering forwards so that she crashed to her knees onto the