Halton Cray (Shadows of the World Book 1) (16 page)

I shrugged.

‘Thank you,’ he said uneasy, in a sort of whisper.
‘It saved a lot of nonsense from the old woman.’

Since he said this sincerely, I continued in a
serious tone –

‘You know, there’s an American guy who’s been
hanging around the Cray lately. A creepy looking, rather well fed man. I saw him
go up into the attic that evening, just before I came up myself and Mrs Evans
followed. He was carrying something, and now I have seen it, it could have
easily been that scythe.’

‘How remarkably
something
becomes a
scythe!’ He looked me full in the face. ‘What a vivid imagination you have! –
Excuse me, Officer! But I have just seen a man going into the bank with
something under his arm, and I suppose it could’ve been a gun!’

I sighed irritably.

‘So you’re sure about that then?’ he pursued.

‘Of course I am. And I’m sure I didn’t see him
leave either.’

‘It seems I’m being interrogated! Would you like
me to sit down for this?’

‘I’d like you to tell me the truth.’

‘And you think you can deal with it?’

‘I already know he was up there with you, Thom! I
saw you fighting wi–’

‘You must have excellent night vision, Cassandra!’

‘I heard a man’s voice up there, which wasn’t
yours.’

‘I suppose I may have cursed when I cut my hand on
some broken furniture. Perhaps my voice changed with sudden pain – will that
do?’

I shook my head resolutely. I knew this strategy;
the best defence is attack.

‘There were two people up there, Thom. One of them
was you. The other I’m convinced was the same strange man I’ve seen around here
lately. I
saw
him go up there. You know I did! Look, if he was
brandishing that scythe as a weapon then I’m sure you had good reason to defend
yourself. I just don’t see why you can’t say so. I also saw him fall in the
attic, and I heard it. Everybody did!’

He edged towards me.

‘What do you think, I’ve killed someone and stowed
the body away in the attic? That I’ve committed a murder, concealed it in front
of you and in earshot of Mrs Evans? Isn’t it more likely you’ve added up two
and two and come up with five? In a place like this, Cassandra, I can’t blame
you. It’s a strange old house. It plays with the mind! And your mind is quite
special, my sweet–
sweet
natured anomaly! I wouldn’t be surprised it’s
conjured up these imaginings as reality! But if it takes a tour of the attic to
satisfy you then let’s go?’ He looked over my face. ‘No, of course not! I’d
have already taken the body outside, in the dead of night, and buried it somewhere
safe. I did it the moment everyone left the grounds!’ He huffed a laugh.

‘But I bet I’ll never see him around again, will
I? And that would be weird, wouldn’t it? It would confirm what you’ve just
joked about to be nearer the truth!’

He looked thoughtful. I wondered in that second if
he thought me brave or stupid to be asking him straight out.

‘Do you really believe that, Alex?’

I took a moment. But of course I didn’t believe
it. However, none of it made any sense to me. These thoughts threw their
shadows on my face. He read them.

‘Look, what if it really is something you wouldn’t
understand?’

‘Well, what? You can tell me anything.’

‘Alex, if I reveal something of it to you – just
something to consider – will you promise to not ask about it again? At least
until I am ready to tell you more.’

‘What if you say something that just confuses me
more?’

‘I don’t intend to confuse you, but it is a fact
that you won’t be able to handle it right now. Even the snippet I’m unhappy to
confess will be a great deal for you to digest.’

‘Fine. I’ll accept that.’

‘And you promise – you give me your word, Alex –
that after I reveal this
snippet
you’ll not ask me again until I’m ready
to tell you more, or even all of it?’

‘I do.’

‘Shake hands on it then!’ He walked right up to
me, eagerly outstretching his hand.

I put my fingers in his.

‘So warm!’ His eyes widened. ‘And for a pintsized
girl you’ve got quite a grip! Did I tell you that before? Give me your other
hand, too. Ah, good, I see your cut has healed very well. I’m relieved.’

I had trouble keeping my breathing paced while he felt
my hands. And his scent… his scent was that powerful I’d forgotten all others
in the world! He released me, but then stood so close before me that we would
almost have been nose-to-nose, if my nose did not come up to the well-toned
contours of his chest. Placing his hands firmly on my shoulders, he looked down
into my eyes.

‘Listen carefully,’ he began, massaging my
shoulders gently. ‘Give yourself time to absorb what I’m about to say. Put all
your little questions and comments to one side. I know how you like to get your
word in before I’m finished!’ His gaze intensified. ‘This old house is not all
it’s cracked up to be. I think you’d admit that much. Now don’t become all
agitated and cross, as I know you like to do, when you hear what I’m about to
tell you. I’ve already an idea how you’re going to react. It won’t be pretty.
Are you ready to hear this?’

My curiosity heightened. I was engrossed. ‘I am.’

‘Outside, at the crossroads, to one side of the
roundabout, there’s a signpost and it points to this old mansion. What does it
say?’

‘Halton Cray.’

‘Is that all?’

‘I think so.’

‘There’s nothing written beneath it? Nothing else
scratched out in worn black lettering?’

‘I’m not sure. Perhaps it says Old Bixney
Village?’

‘No, that’s not it. Nothing else?’

‘No – I think that’s all it says.’

‘You’re certain that that name
Halton Cray
isn’t accompanied by the words
Lunatic Asylum
?’ His hands dropped from
my shoulders, he shook his head and turned away slightly. ‘Oh dear. What are we
going to do with you?’ He turned quickly to me again. ‘Look here on my shirt
pocket.’ He pointed to it. ‘Do you see that badge?’ He tugged at the bare pocket.
‘You don’t see it, no? I thought not. Well, there’s a badge there and it states
that I’m a doctor.’

‘A doctor of what, fairy tales?’

‘Of the human mind! and all its peculiarities. But
you don’t see it, no?’ – I folded my arms. – ‘Pity! I thought we were making
progress. Now, now, don’t pull those faces as if I’m winding you up! That is a
common symptom of your disorder, Miss Turner. You’re a patient here, don’t you know.
I’m your doctor, and I’m here to help you. You’ve been an inmate for some time
now, trying to convince me you’re sane. I’ve been nodding along, striving to
keep you docile, because of your aggressive and unpredictable nature. But you’ve
very little hope of recovery I’m sorry to say. Trapped inside your own fantasy
world, you’ve been walking around convinced that you work here amongst
colleagues, when actually they are other lunatics. I could easily name a few!
You keep inventing people who aren’t real – funny looking, fat people – who you
fancy have been murdered. You’ll likely have to remain here, in my care, for
some time ahead.’

He ended on this strange idea with a soft, dark
laugh. Then looked at me in a peculiar way, that for a split second I felt sure
it was entirely possible.

‘Could easily be the truth, couldn’t it? Come on,
Alex! You do trust me, don’t you?’

For some reason I did trust him. Perhaps it was
only because I wanted to. I couldn’t be sure. That was exactly why I questioned
him. I threw all my sensibilities into question because of that theory. But he
was not going to keep me at my word, not after that so-called snippet of the
truth!

‘So you didn’t intend to confuse me, Thom. You
only intended to provoke me. I see.’

‘I couldn’t help it, Alex. You looked so serious.’

‘I
am
serious. Something’s not right about that
strange man. Is that who scared Tess? Something to do with him?’ – I more asked
myself this, from the sudden thought.

‘No – it wasn’t,’ he replied, when I least
expected it!

‘Then what was it?’

He walked to the door and closed it, saying, ‘This
place has ears!’ before continuing. ‘This is just between us? Don’t bother to
answer; I know you don’t talk. – Tess fell in with the wrong crowd.’ He
remained by the door, keeping hold of the handle. ‘Her boyfriend convinced her
to let him rob the gift shop – for a measly few hundred pounds – and possibly
burgle the house, on an evening when she was left to cash up alone. I was meant
to be away, but I hadn’t left yet. She didn’t realise I was still here, nor
that he’d brought along a gun. I intervened for certain reasons you might not
understand. He threatened to kill me, but I talked him down, after a struggle,
and let them both go. Since she took off with him, I assumed she was hiding out
somewhere for fear I had called the police. No doubt she didn’t want to face
charges. I didn’t realise it’d scared her to the point of hiding in her own
house. Things
must
be bad when a runaway does that.’

‘She hid in her loft, Thom, which is very odd, you
have to admit. Obviously she must have been very scared. Maybe her boyfriend
was angry with her, because she didn’t realise you were around. But I’m still
stuck on why you intervened in the first place? No, wait – it’s the bit where a
madman is waving a gun around, whom you didn’t call the police on!’

‘Well, I took the gun off him first, obviously.’

‘Oh, like a lollipop from a child?’

‘Something like that.’

‘He could get another!’

‘No. He won’t do that,’ he said confidently. ‘I
didn’t want the police involved. There’s already been talk of management
installing cameras in here. I don’t want that.’

‘So what about the stranger then? You’ve still not
given me any explanation.’

‘Questions, questions,’ he sighed.

I told him plainly, ‘I’m not going to let it lie.’

‘Alex, it’s something I don’t want to discuss
right now.’

His mood was still moderately good as I persisted prying
into his business. I told him I was uneasy about it. I needed something to put
my mind at rest. After walking about the room for a minute, he stopped at last,
sticking his hands in his pockets.

‘
He
came here looking for me, the stranger,
as you call him. On behalf of an old associate, someone I haven’t seen for many
years,’ he said this as if he was fifty-odd. ‘When our acquaintance came to an
end we harboured ill feeling towards each other. The stranger watched me go up
into the attic and he followed. We did fight, and that you saw. You didn’t see
him leave because he’s a very sly thing. But he’s not in any real danger from
the injuries I gave him. The blood across my knuckles that day was in fact his.
I’ll admit it because it was the worst of it. I broke his nose. Alex, I don’t
like
violence, but some people speak no other language, and it’s sometimes too late
for them to learn. The whole situation conjures up bad memories. He won’t come
back here again. And not because he’s dead and rotting in the attic or anywhere
else. He’s learnt a lesson, a valuable one. Alex, I do promise you that I’ll
explain it all to you one day. Soon.’

Sixteen

‘Some have won a wild delight, by daring wilder sorrow; could I gain
thy love to-night, I'd hazard death to-morrow.’

– Charlotte Brontё,
Passion

The following fortnight
took us into December, during which I didn’t see Thom at all. Those last words
of his echoed in my ears, yet faded with every passing day. I felt certain his
idea of
soon
differed greatly from mine. Still, I expected he would
stroll by at any moment, commenting on my psychological state. But it never
materialised and the disappointment made me long all the more to see him.

The weeks flew by and I began to see Thom
occasionally for nothing more than a brief ‘Hello’ (of which my variant was
‘Hello, sir’). He’d utter nothing more in my direction. The distance he put
between us made me feel that I should never have forced him to confess anything
before he was ready.

During these weeks the Cray had never felt so
strange – always mysterious, even ghostly at times, but never unnervingly
creepy. Noises I couldn’t account for came from directions I couldn’t identify.
It wasn’t the heating system or doors banging far off down corridors. It was a
systematic sequence of beats, which sounded as if someone struck a blunt object
against something hollow, or threw it to a stone floor. Often they were so
distant or buried that you just about caught the sound, and yet the sharpness of
it made you jump. Moreover, they would continue, on and on once it’d started. I
dealt with numerous complaints from visitors claiming they’d been frightened or
even intrigued by the ‘invisible workmen’. People assumed it was a new
attraction at the Cray.

It was mid-December and the day of our work
Christmas party, of which Mrs Evans organised with stringent dedication. She
encouraged everyone to wear festive colours and take part in every tradition
she could conjure up. Our party could begin at closing.

One of the last visitors to leave was a
middle-aged woman, dripping in gold, who wore her hair like a hat. She stopped
at the front desk to ask me about the noises, which had been banging on all
day.

‘That new attraction seems a bit tacky for here.
What’s it about?’

‘There is no new attraction,’ I said.

‘But the hearth in the Great Hall!’ she snapped.
‘It growled at me! Is it on motion sensors?’

This was new. I must’ve looked confused.

‘It sounded like this!’ The woman bore her teeth
and growled.

I had to verify. ‘The fireplace growled?’

Impatiently, she took a deep breath. ‘I know a
growl when I hear one! So what’s going on; has the place been turned into some
kind of theme park?’

‘Not that I’m aware of. Did you see anything?’

‘No. It was just the sound of an intense growl,
possibly from behind the fireplace.’

‘Did it echo?’

‘Yes – yes, I would say so.’

‘Maybe it’s an animal, a rodent perhaps, trapped
in the flue. Some of the flues are still open. An echo can make a mouse seem
like an elephant.’ (I didn’t intend to patronise her, though she may have taken
it to be deliberate.)

‘That’s all very well, miss!’ She placed her hand
firmly on the desk. ‘But as you know, mice don’t growl!’ With that she stormed
out, clearly convinced I was in on the prank.

‘Frightening off the punters?’

I turned to see Daniel walking over.

‘She thought the fireplace in the Great Hall
growled at her.’

‘Well now I’ve heard it all! What next? Will the
chairs sprout teeth and start biting people?’

‘She thought we’d introduced a ghost theme to
increase popularity.’

‘It’s not so farfetched. Lots of places do it.’

‘The point is, Dan, we haven’t. Or have we?’

‘Not as far as I know. But I have to agree, things
are much weirder than usual around here. And usually it’s pretty weird, so that
says it all.’

‘It’s not just the noises though, is it. It’s a
feeling, too. Something’s different here.’

He nodded. ‘I don’t know where the noises are
coming from. God knows what it’s like for Thom. He has to sleep in this place.’

‘I can’t imagine anything worrying him, Dan.’

‘That’s true! It’s more like the other way round.’

‘Mrs Evans is going spare,’ I told him. ‘Every
time she hears a thud she bolts to find it. That woman isn’t scared of
anything.’

‘Do you think axe murderers are scared of other
axe murderers?’

‘Well,
she
isn’t!’ I chortled. ‘She once
chased some thudding into the toilets and came back saying that the lights were
flickering like mad, and it’s a good thing she’s not epileptic.’

‘Thank God she isn’t! If she started having a fit,
how would we tell the difference? She already foams at the mouth like a
Doberman with rabies!’

‘Who’s got rabies?’ Thom’s voice floated in on the
wind.

I automatically straightened up in my chair, but
tried my best to look unaffected.

Dan was always glad to see him.

‘We were just talking about all the crazy noises
in the house lately. What do you make of the
crazy
noises?’ He smiled
and directed Thom with his eyes towards me.

‘Oh, great!’ I said sarcastically, flicking open a
brochure on the desk. ‘Now I’ve got two of you starting on me.’

Thom laughed, but added sincerely, ‘No one calls
her nutty but me, Dan.’ – He turned my way. – ‘Right, fruitcake?’

‘Thanks, Dan. Now you’ve got him started, I won’t
hear the end of it.’

Thom was smiling – somewhat irresistibly – but he
didn’t continue ribbing me yet.

‘A woman was just here,’ said Dan, ‘getting out of
her pram with Alex, because she thought the fireplace in the Hall growled at
her.’

‘Really?’ Laughed Thom. ‘It never pays me any
attention. Speaking of which,’ he said, looking back to me. ‘Good afternoon,
Alex,’ he spoke very purposely. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me again so
soon? I may have to start enforcing penalties.’

‘There’s no need for that,
sir
.’

‘What’s going on?’ quizzed Dan, looking between
us.

‘Alex has finally come to her senses. She’s giving
me the respect I deserve.’

‘We had a bet, Dan. I lost and have to call him
sir for a while. It’s no big deal, is it, sir?’ I set my teeth.

‘Certainly not for me.’ He smiled, rubbing his
hands together. ‘Isn’t she unique, Dan? And fiery! Look at the fury in those
eyes!’

I tried not to smile.

Thom was dressed all in black, which was a little
out of the ordinary, even for him.

‘What
are
you wearing?’ Dan looked him up
and down. ‘I’m sure the dress code was festive, not funeral. What’s with the
Zorro outfit?’

Thom here silently produced a red tie from his
back pocket and knotted it perfectly under his collar.

‘Festive enough for you, Dan?’

‘It’s more than I thought you’d bear. So what
about you?’ He looked to me. ‘You can’t wear grey to a Christmas party! Or do
you have a red scarf to put on, too?’

‘No, Dan. I have a dress to change into.’

Thom smiled. ‘A
dress
?’ he said, looking to
Dan, before leaning over my desk. ‘Just to verify, fruitcake – you’ll be wearing
a dress? I had no idea you owned one.’

Just then we heard a high-pitch scream! I knew it
instantly: it was Stacey. She ran our way, out of her senses with fright, white
as a sheet – or as Stacey would often get confused and say, white as a
sheep
.

‘What the hell’s the matter?’ Dan questioned
first.

‘Help me! Help me!’

She leapt round the desk and grabbed hold of me.
Her body shook like a washing machine on a spin cycle.

‘Alex, I’m so scared! There’s a ghost, a real one,
in the De Morgan Gallery! I was walking past just now. I heard this awful noise
in there!’ She gulped heavily. ‘It sounded like a man in pain. I thought an old
person had fallen over or something and called out for help. So I went in and
there was–’ She began to sob. I couldn’t understand her.

Dan was staring at her in utter confusion.

Thom approached and half sympathetically asked,
‘Can anyone translate it?’

I shook my head and stroked hers.

‘I’ll go and have a look,’ Thom announced.

Stacey’s eyes followed him, wide and transfixed.
The moment he was out of view, she again became inconsolable – though I knew
her to be like this in these kinds of situations. I had seen her react in this
manner to literally nothing at all many times. I felt this terrible urge rising
up within me to give her a good slap round the face; you know, just to snap her
out of it. No matter how effective it seemed in the movies, I thought better of
it. If I began, who knows when I might be able to stop?

‘Okay, Stace, calm down. Tell me what you saw?’

‘No one! There was no one in there! But I could
still hear him crying out for help.’

‘Are you sure you just couldn’t see him in there?
Perhaps he was under something, if he needed help?’

‘No – there was no one in there, I swear!’

‘What was he saying?’

‘They weren’t words. He was just moaning and
making noises like he couldn’t speak. Then the footsteps began! running back
and forth across the room.’ Her eyes made this motion. ‘He could have stomped
on my foot they were so close! I know it was a ghost – I just know it! I’m
sorry for calling Thom a ghost. Now I know what one’s really like! I thought it
was gonna get me, Alex! I thought it was gonna lock me in with it!’ She broke
down in tears again.

‘Dan, I’m going to take her outside for some fresh
air. Could you do me a favour and tell Mrs Evans where we are?’

‘Sure thing.’

It was a bleak day, grey and very windy. From
experience, whenever I wake from a bad nightmare, nothing soothes me more
efficiently than to stick something light and fluffy on the T.V. – Since we had
nothing like this to hand, a change of scenery was the next best thing.

Stacey came round slowly and began talking and
behaving almost normally. It was shortly after this I felt droplets of rain.

‘Stace, I’m sorry to rush you, but we’re going to
have to go back in.’

‘Oh, no!’ She twisted round to me. ‘Please don’t
go in yet!’

‘We’re going to get soaked if we don’t. There’s a
lot of rain forecast for today.’ I looked up. ‘Great timing for our party.’

‘I don’t even want to stay for it now!’ she
complained. ‘But Darren’s coming and bringing a few people.’

‘What? Mrs Evans told me I couldn’t bring anyone!’

‘Did she? I don’t remember her saying I couldn’t
bring anyone. Oh, but I’m sure she won’t mind.’

The favouritism might have been vanquishing if the
miserable old woman meant anything to me.

‘Well, never mind now,’ I said, flattened. ‘Come
back in with me and we won’t go near that gallery, okay?’

Her answer was a sob and a sniff.

‘I promise I won’t leave you. But Stacey, look up.
The clouds are turning purple and it’s literally getting dark because they will
open up any second and we’ll get drenched. Let’s go inside now and just sit at
the front desk, near the door.’

‘Okay.’

She spoke and acted so sweetly at this point, and
was so genuinely scared, that my heart went out to her, as if she was my
cherished baby sister. She sat on my chair and I stood next to her like a
bodyguard.

The wind grew fiercer. I could hear it rolling and
falling like a tide coming in. The very last visitors at that moment left
towards the car park hurriedly through the rain.

Dan returned saying he’d spoken to Mrs Evans.

‘She was more than intrigued to know what it was
about,’ he reported. ‘I just said she’d had a fright in one of the galleries. I
didn’t want to embarrass her.’ – Stacey rolled her eyes vexingly. – ‘I said I
didn’t know what happened. So she’ll probably be round in a sec.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘Wow, listen to that rain picking up!’ He went to
the front door, hunching in his shoulders. ‘Weatherman says it’s going to get
worse and go right on through the night. Wish I could get going now and forget
the party! Might not make it later.’

Stacey whimpered, so I squeezed her hand gently to
comfort her.

I was desperate to know what Thom was up to and if
he’d found anything in the De Morgan Gallery. I would have gone to find him,
even assess the room myself, but to leave Stacey without a comforter was
impossible. So it was lucky that Mrs Evans came round within minutes.

‘Stacey, whatever’s the matter?’

Stacey leapt from the chair and poured her heart
out to her mentor, who consoled her with an affection I’m sure she wasn’t truly
capable of. It gave me an excellent opportunity to slip away.

With the door to the De Morgan Gallery shut, I
tried the cold handle, finding it locked.

‘Thom?’ I called out in vain.

I stooped to look through the keyhole and found it
very dark within. I could see the window shutters now closed. Yet I felt a
strong cold breeze on my eye. – Mrs Evans was calling me back to the desk.

‘Alex, go upstairs and find Frances,’ she
directed, gently patting Stacey’s hand. ‘Ask her to come down to me.’

I did, but stopped at the landing window to
observe the car park and gravel path filling with puddles. The sun had turned
in early for the night; the bruised clouds firmly drawn dripped endlessly. I
found Frances in the Solomon Gallery. She was looking out at the rain with
folded arms.

‘It’s like the middle of the night,’ she said
dejectedly. ‘Some party this’ll be.’

I looked down to the Shockers running fast and
black. The trees in the meadow blew wildly about in unsynchronised waves, as if
some prehistoric beast was making a path through them towards the house. I
truly could wish to be nowhere else at this moment.