The Body at Auercliff (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

“Aunt Emily, can I ask you a question?”

Turning to me, she shields her eyes from the sun as she smiles.

“Hello there, sweetie,” she says as I make my way across the patio and over to the garden furniture where the adults have been having tea. “Of course you can. Why don't you sit down with me?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Mum and Dad are still arguing about something in the kitchen. I've been waiting for them to go away, and now's my chance to get Aunt Emily all on her own. Even Nathan is busy playing on the lawn, which means no-one's going to interrupt me. I love my family, but sometimes they can be a little nosy. Mum, in particular, is always demanding that I tell her what I've been doing, who I've been talking to, and what I might have heard. Sometimes I think she's completely paranoid, and she's definitely seemed keen for me to avoid talking to my aunt.

“So what kind of things do you like doing?” Aunt Emily asks as I sit on the wicker chair next to hers. “It's been so long since the last time I saw you, Rebecca. You were just a baby. Do you know what you want to be when you grow up yet?”

“I want to be a train driver or a doctor,” I tell her.

“So you want to help people?” She reaches out and tousles my hair. “That's very good of you, Becky. Or do you prefer to be called Rebecca?”

“I don't mind,” I reply, before pausing for a moment. “Aunt Emily, do you know if anyone has ever died in your house?”

She pauses, and I can see from the look in her eyes that she doesn't really like the question. Still, I really,
really
want to know.

“It's just,” I continue, “Nathan and I were talking about ghosts, and Nathan thinks there aren't any here, but I think there probably are. I'm right, aren't I? People
have
died here, they must have. After all, the house is about a million years old, and there's no way a house can be that old without things happening in it.”

“There have been...” Her voice trails off for a moment. “A lot of people have lived at Auercliff over the years,” she says finally, “and when lots of people live at a house, inevitably some of them die. We can't hide from the truth, Becky.”

“How many died here?”

“I honestly don't know.”

“But they've stayed as ghosts, haven't they?”

“I...” She pauses again. “I don't know, sweetie. Not everyone believes in ghosts.”

“I do.”

“Is that right?”

I nod.

“Have you seen one before?”

I pause, before shaking my head.

“Then why do -”

“They
have
to be real,” I continue, interrupting her. “If they weren't, then when people die, they'd just disappear, and that can't be true. People can't just stop existing, the whole idea is just too horrible and scary. So when their bodies die, their minds have to go somewhere else, and it makes sense that they stick around the last place they were when they still had their bodies. It's just basic common sense, really.”

“It is, is it?” she replies with a smile.

I check over my shoulder, to make sure Mum and Dad still aren't nearby, and then I scooch closer to Aunt Emily. “I want to die on a roller-coaster,” I tell her.

She frowns. “You do?”

I nod. “That way, I'll end up haunting the funfair, and then I can go on rides all the time. I'll even be good and make sure I don't scare anyone. I mean, I wouldn't want to ruin someone's day out. But dying on a roller-coaster would be the best, because then you'd get to be there forever and ever, doing loop-the-loops all the time.” I pause, trying to think of exactly how it might happen. “Maybe my head would get chopped off by something,” I suggest. “You know, like a low-hanging bar over the track, something like that. I wouldn't want it to be a big crash, because then other people might get hurt too. And I don't want it to happen any time soon, because I like being alive, but eventually when I'm much older, I think a roller-coaster would be the best way to go. Plus, it'd be gory!”

“You've really got it all figured out, haven't you?”

“I wouldn't say
that
,” I reply, scrunching my nose up a little, “but I think about things a lot. It's good to be prepared, isn't it?”

“Follow me,” Aunt Emily says suddenly, getting to her feet. She holds out a hand for me. “Come on, it's okay. I just want to show you something.” She waits for me to go with her. “I promise your mother won't be angry, if that's what you're worried about. I just think you're the kind of girl who'll appreciate this.”

Taking her hand, I let her lead me along the side of the house, until we reach the corner and she crouches down.

“See that?” she asks, pointing at one of the bricks.

I nod.

“This corner of the house was built before the rest of it,” she continues, “back in the year 1450. That's almost six hundred years in the past. Can you believe it?”

Staring at the brick, I try to imagine someone putting it in place all those years ago. Aunt Emily's right, it
is
hard to believe that people were doing things so far in the past, and I can't help thinking that a
lot
of people must have lived in the house since then, and each one of them was a potential ghost. Reaching down, I run my fingers against the brick, trying to think of all the things that it must have seen and heard over the years. If it could talk, I bet it'd have lots to say.

After a moment, hearing a faint sniffing sound, I turn and see that Aunt Emily's crying.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” I tell her, startled. Looking back toward the kitchen door, I realize Mum might come out at any moment and tell me off. Suddenly, I feel like I'm panicking.

“It's okay,” Aunt Emily says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm happy. This is a beautiful moment. We're reconnecting with the spirits of the past, Becky. We're communing with the soul of Auercliff itself.” She smiles, despite the tears running down her face. “Don't you ever cry because you're happy?”

I pause, before shaking my head.

“You will one day,” she continues. “I promise. That's part of growing up and...”

She stares at me for a moment, before placing a hand on the side of my face. The way she's staring at me, it's almost as if she's seen something in my eyes, something that has really caught her attention. I wait, not wanting to interrupt her, but I really don't understand what's wrong with her. Mum always says that Aunt Emily is a little weird, and for the first time I'm starting to think that might be true.

“You look so...” Her voice trails off.

“So
what
?” I ask cautiously.

“I...” She tilts her head slightly, the way a dog does when it's trying to understand something. Her lips are trembling, as if she can't quite get the words out. “I just...” She pauses. “Maybe there's someone you should meet,” she continues finally. “I think you'd get on very well.”

“Who?” I ask.

She sighs. “It's difficult to explain. I think I should just -”

“You two!” Mum barks suddenly. “What are you up to?”

Startled, I turn and see that she's making her way toward us. I should come up with an excuse, but instead my mind goes completely blank.

“Did you get your aunt all emotional?” Mum asks, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. “Well, it's not hard to do, but still...” She sighs. “Emily, what's going on here? Are you trying to teach my daughter to form a spiritual connection with the house's brickwork? Trust me, Becky's not the hippy type. She's got far too many braincells for that.”

“I was just talking about the history of Auercliff,” Emily replies as she gets up, wiping tears from her cheeks. “There's so much history all around us, it's in the air we breathe and it's -”

“Lovely,” Mum says with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “And here was me, thinking the only thing in the air we breathe around here is dust. I mean, Jesus Christ, Emily... Would it kill you to get a little old lady in to dust the place?” She turns and starts leading me back toward the garden furniture, where Dad is setting out some bowls on one of the tables. “What did I tell you about talking to your aunt?” she hisses. “She's mad as a fruitcake, Becky, and the last thing we want is to set her off. Trust me, if you let her, she'll spend the whole weekend talking about ghosts, fairies, spirits and the healing power of bells and crystals.”

“But -”

“But nothing!” she adds as we reach the table. Grabbing a cigarette from the ashtray, she takes a drag and then exhales slowly.

I step back, hating the smoke in my face.

“Your aunt isn't well,” she continues. “She's sick.”

I feel a thud of shock in my chest. “Is she dying?”

She shakes her head, but for a moment she seems lost in thought. “Of course not,” she adds finally, “don't be stupid, she's just... It's something in her mind, Becky.” She taps the side of her head. “In here, you understand? She might say things that sound silly, and that's because she's sick. Also, if you ask her too many questions, you might make it worse. You don't want to be responsible for your aunt's health deteriorating, do you?”

“What does
deteriorating
mean?”

“It means going down the fucking pan,” she snaps. “Alright? If you ask her too many questions, you could make her very sick, Becky. She
might
even die.”

“I don't want her to die!” I stammer.

“Then leave her alone a little. You're a little girl. You can't understand, but leave your aunt alone.” She eyes with with suspicion for a moment. “Got it?”

I nod.

“She'll be fine if you stop bothering her,” she continues. “Besides, it wouldn't be good for you, either. The last thing I need is for you to get infected by some of her wilder ideas. It's a sign of weakness, you know. Mental, emotional and intellectual weakness. Do you want to be weak, Becky?”

I shake my head.

“Good,” she mutters. “No daughter of mine is going to end up as a hippy. Besides, you can't afford it. Your aunt's extremely lucky, she inherited lots of money when your uncle died, so if she wants to drift around all day in a haze, no-one can stop her.” She pauses for a moment. “It's alright for some. She should try living in the real fucking world for five minutes.” She stubs her cigarette out. “And you didn't hear Mummy using that naughty word, okay? That's a word for grown-ups.”

She glances over at the house, and watches Dad for a moment through the window.

“I'd get about thirty pence if
my
husband died,” she adds with a sigh. “I guess Aunt Emily played the marriage game a little better.”

As she heads back into the kitchen and starts telling Dad all the things he's done wrong with the salad, I turn and see that Aunt Emily is still over by the far corner, looking up at the house's windows. I can't help thinking that she was about to tell me something interesting before Mum interrupted, and I'm not entirely sure that Emily really
is
crazy. I think she just sees the world in a different way, probably because she's seen and experienced so many different things here at Auercliff. Most of all, I feel sorry for her, and I can't imagine what it must be like to live alone in such a huge house.

Then again, I don't think she truly
is
alone. Looking up at the dark windows, I can't shake the feeling that there's someone or something else here. Someone who keeps Emily company at night.

Chapter Thirteen

“Did you hear that?”

Rolling onto my back, I open my eyes and see Nathan standing next to my bed, staring down at me.

“What?” I stammer, still half-asleep.

“Did you hear it?” he asks, with a hint of fear in his voice. He turns and looks across the dark bedroom, toward the door.

“I was asleep,” I tell him. “You should be too. Mum won't like it if -”

“Someone's moving about,” he continues. “In the other part of the house.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's not Mum and Dad, and it's not Aunt Emily.” He turns to me again. “It's someone else!”

“Go back to sleep,” I reply, rolling away and closing my eyes.

Suddenly he pulls the duvet away.

“Hey!” I hiss, trying to grab it back. Too late, I sit up and glare at him. “I'm trying to sleep!”

“Maybe it's a burglar,” he whispers.

“There's no burglar here,” I reply. “Just give me my duvet back.”

“I'll prove it,” he continues. “Come and listen. If you don't hear it, I'll do you chores for a whole month! You said you believe in ghosts, didn't you?”

***

“Lean closer,” he says a few minutes later, as we stand in front of a scrappy white door at the end of a long, dark corridor. “You'll hear it.”

Sighing, I lean closer to the door, although I pull away slightly when I feel my ear brushing against the cold wood.

“What am I supposed to hear?” I ask cautiously.

“Just wait.”

Sighing again, I wait for a moment, but there's absolutely nothing to hear.

“You just imagined it,” I tell him. “There's -”

Before I can finish, I hear a faint shuffling sound from the other side of the door. It's over almost before it really begins, but my eyes widen as I realize that there's definitely something or someone through there. Immediately, my thoughts turn back to when Aunt Emily was being weird earlier, and when she said there was someone she wanted me to meet.

“It's not Mum and Dad,” Nathan says with fear in his voice, “and it's not Aunt Emily. I checked, and they're all in bed, and there's no supposed to be anyone else here.”

I take a deep breath, trying not to panic. “Then it's -”

Suddenly I hear the sound again, and this time it lasts a few seconds longer until silence falls once again.

“It's a ghost, isn't it?” Nathan asks. “It has to be!”

I hesitate for a moment, before reaching out and cautiously turning the door handle. When I try to pull the door open, however, I find that it's locked.

“That's the western wing of the house,” Nathan reminds me. “Mum said Aunt Emily keeps it shut up, remember? She never goes through there.”

“I know, but -”

“Maybe this is
why
she never goes through,” he suggests. “Maybe that's the part where the ghosts are.”

“Ghosts wouldn't be stopped by a locked door,” I point out.

“You don't know that.”

“Ghosts go through doors, dummies.”

“You don't
know
that, Becky.”

I try the door again, but there's no way I'm suddenly going to find a way through. Stepping back a few paces, I realize I can hear the shuffling sound again. I want to believe that it's just a bird or some other kind of animal through there, but I can't even bring myself to make that suggestion. I know deep down that it's not true.

“Should we tell Mum and Dad?” Nathan asks.

“Sure,” I reply, “go wake Mum up and tell her you heard a scary noise. I'm sure she'll be really happy and grateful.”

He pauses, before turning to head toward Mum and Dad's room.

“That was a joke,” I add, grabbing his arm to keep him close. At the same time, the shuffling sound returns for a few seconds. I wait until it's gone again, and then I turn to Nathan. “There's another way through to that part of the house.”

“No there isn't!”

I nod. “It might be locked, but shouldn't we at least try?”

He shakes his head.

“Well,
I'm
going to,” I continue, turning and heading toward the top of the stairs.

“Becky, wait!” he hisses, hurrying after me.

“You don't have to come,” I tell him, already making my way down to the hallway. “I'll tell you what I find. If I find anything at all.”

“But -”

“You're the one who woke me up, remember? Or was that only fun when you thought we couldn't actually get through to take a proper look?”

“Becky, wait!”

“And keep quiet!” I add. “We're not allowed to wake anyone up.”

When I reach the hallway, I walk quickly through to the reception room and then to the study, and finally I get to the pantry and hurry to the door in the far corner, which I remember Mum mentioning was another way into the shuttered and abandoned part of the house. Grabbing the handle and giving it a turn, I don't expect for one moment that it'll be unlocked, but to my surprise the door swings open, almost hitting me in the face.

Stopping, I feel cold air reaching through from the darkness ahead, as I contemplate the idea of going through to the house's empty, uninhabited western wing. Suddenly this idea doesn't seem so enticing, and I reach out to shut the door again.

“Are we going in there?” Nathan asks.

Turning, I realize he's right behind me. I'd kind of assumed he stayed upstairs like a little scaredy-cat, but apparently he decided to come with me after all. There's no way I can back down now.

“Of course,” I tell him.

“Are you scared?”

I shake my head. “Are you?”

He hesitates, before shaking his head. He's a liar, but I'm not going to say anything about it. I guess we're both lying right now.

Turning, I look through to the darkness and then I take a step forward. The air is so cold now, I actually feel like I should go back and grab my jacket, but to be honest I think I'd end up chickening out of the whole thing. Instead, I keep going until I find myself in a cold, dark room with a flight of wooden steps leading upstairs. I remember Mum saying something about this part of the house having been used by servants in the past, and it certainly seems like things are more basic and less fancy here. Whereas the bannister in the main hallway is smooth and intricately carved, the bannister here is just a long stretch of wood.

“Do you hear anything?” Nathan asks.

“Pull the door shut,” I tell him.

“What if we get locked in?”

“We won't, but we can't let anyone see that we came through. Pull the door shut.”

Heading over to the stairs, I look up, but all I see is pitch darkness. After a moment, I hear Nathan carefully shutting the door.

“I don't hear a thing anymore,” I whisper.

“I'm cold.”

“Me too.” I pause for a few seconds, before placing a hand on the cold bannister and starting to make my way up the stairs.

“Becky, no!” Nathan hisses.

“You don't
have
to come with me,” I point out.

“But what happens if something's up there?”

I turn to him and force a smile. “Then you can have all my stuff when I'm gone.”

Seeing the fear in his eyes, I can't help feeling as if I
have
to keep going, if only to scare my little brother senseless. As I make my way up the stairs, however, the air seems to be getting colder and colder, and I'm very aware of myself slowly rising into darkness. By the time I get to the turning, I can't see anything ahead at all, although when I look over my shoulder I can just about make out Nathan's silhouette as he cautiously follows a few paces behind. This part of Auercliff is so different and bare, it's like being in a different house entirely.

“It's
really
cold,” he complains.

“So?”

I start making my way up the next flight of steps, with one hand held out in case I accidentally reach a door. After a moment, however, I get to the top step and see a window at the far end of a dark, unlit corridor. Stopping for a moment, I realize that this part of the house seems absolutely quiet, almost as if the entire rest of the world has vanished and this is all that's left. Looking at the window, I can see trees outside, swaying in a gentle breeze, but I don't hear the wind. A moment later, however, there's a faint creaking sound as Nathan reaches the top step and pauses just behind me.

“I don't like it,” he whispers.

“Welcome to Auercliff,” I reply.

To be honest, if I was alone, I'd definitely turn around right now and go back downstairs, and come back to explore in the morning. Instead, not wanting to look scared in front of my little brother, I hold my hands out and step forward into the darkness.