The Body at Auercliff (9 page)

Then again, Nathan might have found the key and... Well, there are loads of possibilities. There are so many, I can't even be bothered to think of them all.

“Okay, dweeb,” I continue, heading to the corridor, figuring I should get back to the other part of the house and go to bed. “Have fun through here. I'm done exploring for one night.”

I'm not scared, I tell myself as I make my way along the corridor. I'm just tired and sick of my brother's jokes. Still, I quicken my pace, and by the time I get to the top of the stairs I'm almost running.

Chapter Fifteen

“Nice try, loser,” I mutter, nudging Nathan's arm as I make my way around the breakfast table the following morning. “I'm
nearly
impressed.”

“By what?” he asks, turning to me with a mouth full of cereal.

“You'll have to show me how you did it later,” I add, opening the cereal tubs but not finding Cheerios anywhere. “Do we only have cornflakes?” I ask, turning to Dad.

“I think there's more,” he replies, taking a sip of coffee. “Maybe in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.”

Heading back around the table, I nudge Nathan's shoulder again. “You didn't scare me, you know. It'd take a
lot
more than that?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks again, sounding frustrated.

I stick my tongue out.

“Did you know there are dead bodies here?” he continues.

“Liar.”

“Its true!” He turns to Dad. “Tell her! There are dead bodies in that stone building in the forest!”

“Eat your breakfast,” Dad mutters.

“Tell her!”

“It's not true at all,” I say sourly, before looking over at Dad. “It's
not
, is it?”

“There's a mausoleum,” he replies, between bites of toast. “It's where your aunt's family has traditionally stored their dead. It's like a graveyard, but more... familial.”

“No way,” I whisper, shocked by the idea. “Why would they do that?”

“Because they're a bunch of toffs with too much money on their hands,” he continues. “Anyway, it doesn't matter, not really. It's their side of the family, not ours. The Switheringtons have always been a little weird.”

“I bet they get up and walk about at night,” Nathan says with a grin, as if he's deliberately trying his best to scare me. “I bet they moan and groan.”

Ignoring him, I head through to the reception room and then over to the door that leads into the kitchen, only to slow and stop as I realize I can my mother's hushed, angry voice coming from the next room.

“Oh, don't give me that bullshit!” she's saying, followed by the tell-tale sound of her taking a long, slow puff on a cigarette. “The tired old hippy act might work on some people, but you're not sneaking anything past
me
! Have you been to see a doctor about your head?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Aunt Emily replies, sounding flustered. “There's nothing wrong with my head.”

“Your hands shake.”

“Not all the time!”

“Enough to show that something's wrong. I'm saying this as your sister, Em. I'm worried about you and I think you need to seek professional help.”

Hearing footsteps coming closer, I slip aside to make sure that I'm not spotted. Holding my breath, I listen to the sound of someone going through one of the cupboards.

“Are you ignoring me?” Mum asks after a moment. “Is that your new strategy?”

“What do you want me to say?” my aunt replies.

“I want you to say that you understand why I'm here. Em, I've kept to my word and left you alone most of the time, but you need to answer the fucking phone once in a while, or I'm going to think something's wrong. Would it kill you to just pick the damn thing up and tell me everything's okay with you? Or is that too much fucking responsibility for a hippy-dippy flower child?”

“I don't like it when you talk that way,” Emily replies, her voice sounding frail and troubled. “Some of the language you use around your children -”

“I don't need your advice!”

“And all that smoke!”

“They like it. By exposing them to it now, I'm making them more resilient to cancer when they grow up.”

“I'm not sure it works like that,” Aunt Emily tells her.

“My children are growing up just fine, thank you very much,” Mum says tartly. “It's alright for you, swanning around in this massive house, without a care in the world and -”

“That's not fair!”

“No, it's not! It's fucking ridiculous, but these are the cards fate has -”

She stops suddenly, and I realize I might have let my shoulder brush against the wall. A moment later I hear footsteps storming this way, so I quickly turn and duck down behind one of the armchairs.

“I thought I heard something,” Mum says, stopping in the doorway.

I can see her feet on the other side of the chair, but I don't think she knows I'm here. It'd better stay that way, too, because I know she'd hate to think I was spying on her. Mum has always been a pretty secretive, reserved person, and she'll be sour with me for the rest of the weekend if I'm discovered. She hates it if she thinks I have secrets, but she also hates it if she can't keep her own.

“You know what this house is like,” Emily says after a moment. “I warned you it hadn't changed.”

“
You
haven't changed either,” Mum continues, turning and heading back into the kitchen. “You're still as jumpy and inclined to believe utter crap as ever. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for you here when you don't have visitors, Em. You must rattle around the place like a lunatic.” I hear her taking another drag on her cigarette. “There's only one ghost at Auercliff, and it's you.”

“Don't talk like that!”

“Oh, it's true!”

“Barbara, please -”

Suddenly I hear a loud slap.

“Don't!” Mum says firmly. “I get enough crap from Daniel and the children, I don't need it from my own sister too. You know why we came this weekend, we came to make sure you're not completely doolally yet. The jury's out on that one, but you seem moderately functional, at least. Now can we please get the rest of the stay over and done with, without filling my children with ideas about ghosts and things that go bump in the night?”

“I should check the cake,” Emily mutters, and I hear her footsteps hurrying away.

I wait a moment, and then I get up from behind the armchair. Mum's undoubtedly heading to the dining room, which means she'll soon start to wonder where I am. Still, just as I'm about to hurry back through the house via a different route, I realize I can hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the kitchen. I hesitate, before stepping to the door and peering through, at which point I see Aunt Emily sitting at the breakfast table with her head in her hands, gently sobbing. She looks so sad, and I can't bring myself to just walk away, even if I know that would be the best thing to do.

“Aunt Emily?” I say finally. “Are you okay?”

Looking over at me with reddened, tear-filled eyes, she seems momentarily shocked that I'm here.

“Did Mum hit you?” I ask.

“I...” She pauses, before wiping her eyes with a tissue. “No, sweetie. No, of course she didn't.” She pauses. “Why? Does she ever hit
you
?”

I shake my head.

“That's good,” she continues. “You must never let her do that. Poor Barbara just has such a temper, that's all, and she can't keep it under control the whole time. She was the same when we were girls. My word, I remember times when she'd stamp her feet and hold her breath until she turned red in the face, just trying to get her own way. One time, she actually passed out through sheer frustration, just because I wouldn't give in to her. She can be -”

She frowns, and for a moment she seems a little lost.

“She can be what?” I ask finally.

“I'm sorry?”

“You were talking about Mum.”

“Was I?” She looks around, almost as if she's not quite sure where she is.

“You said she used to hold her breath sometimes when she was really mad,” I remind her. “You said she passed out once because of it.”

“I said that?” Her frown deepens.

I wait for her to continue, before taking a step closer. “Aunt Emily, are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to fetch you something?”

“Oh, no,” she replies, forcing a smile even though fresh tears are streaming down her face, “I just -” She pauses, staring at me with a hint of a frown. “You're a very good girl, aren't you?”

“Not really,” I tell her. “I try, but...”

“No, you're
very
good,” she continues. “Sometimes I think... Well, sometimes I just think that...” Her voice trails off.

“Becky!” Mum shouts from the dining room. “What are you doing?”

“You should go,” Aunt Emily tells me. “She's in a foul mood this morning. You mustn't get into trouble on my account.”

I hesitate for a moment, considering asking her about the locked door I found last night, but finally I turn and make my way back through the house. I wish I knew why she and my mother were arguing just now, although I don't suppose there's any chance that either of them will tell me.

Adults like to keep these things to themselves. They never like telling children anything. The problem is, I don't feel like a child anymore.

***

A short while later, feeling as if I want to get away from the others for a while, I head out into the forest. I tell myself I'm heading toward the river, but deep down I'm actually going to take a look at the mausoleum. As I get closer, however, I slow my pace, and I can't help wondering if there really
are
lots of dead bodies in there.

Finally I stop a few meters from the mausoleum's big metal door.

I don't think I dare go any closer.

“It can't be true,” I whisper, trying to imagine a bunch of bodies tossed inside and left to rot. The whole thing simply doesn't make any sense at all. “It's
not
true,” I add, before turning and heading further through the forest, toward the river.

Still, I can't help glancing over my shoulder a few times, looking back toward the mausoleum. Just in case.

Chapter Sixteen

“Have you seen your brother?”

Turning, I see Mum standing in the doorway.

“Um, no,” I reply, momentarily startled as I realize I didn't hear her coming through to Uncle Martin's office. “I just -”

“What are you doing in here?” she snaps.

Looking down at Uncle Martin's desk, which has been left completely unchanged ever since he died when I was a baby, I realize I can't tell her the truth. I came in here because I wanted to be in the most grown-up room in the house, and because I wanted to imagine what it'd be like to have an office of my own one day. Suddenly, however, those explanations feel kind of dumb.

“Well, I...”

“Just don't touch anything, okay?” she continues, clearly not interested in my answer. “Your aunt is bloody anal about this room. If you ask me, she should've cleared everything out and had a bonfire. It's not healthy, keeping the room kept the way it was when he died. It almost as if she
wants
him to come back and haunt her.”

“Maybe she does,” I suggest. “Do you know much about Uncle Martin's family and the history of this house?”

She scowls at me. “What?”

“The history of Auercliff,” I continue. “I mean, do you know about the people who used to live here?”

“Why the hell would I dig into the history of somebody else's house?” she asks, sounding tired and frustrated. After taking another drag on her cigarette, she breathes out a cloud of smoke. “They were just a bunch of rich toffs who inherited enough money to keep themselves ticking over. We should all be so lucky to be born into that kind of situation, but at least your aunt had the good sense to marry her way in. I suppose she's more -”

She stops for a moment, eying me with a hint of suspicion.

“Why are you asking about them?” she continues cautiously. “Have you been talking to your aunt?”

I shake my head.

“Are you sure? She hasn't been filling your head with rubbish, has she? Remember, I told you she's quite loopy. You can't trust her as far as you can throw her.”

“She didn't say anything,” I reply, “I just wondered, that's all. It seems like the house must have a lot of history, especially with all those portraits on the wall.”

She sighs. “Whatever. Do you know where I might find your brother? He's been AWOL ever since shortly after breakfast.”

“Have you checked the forest?”

“I told him not to go out there,” she replies. “I'm sure he's somewhere in the house. I just hope he isn't going to damage anything. Do me a favor and go look for him, won't you? Make sure he's not doing anything too stupid.”

I open my mouth to reply, but she's already on her way again, puffing on a cigarette as she heads back across the hallway.

Left alone in the study once again, I head over to the far wall and look at a series of framed photos. Most of them seem pretty old, from the forties or fifties or even earlier, and I have no idea who any of the people are. In one of the larger pictures, a whole load of people are standing on the steps at the front of the house. I look at each of their faces, although I feel a shudder after a moment as I realize that by now, most of these people are probably dead.

At the end of one of the rows, there's a young girl, about my age or maybe slightly older. She has dark, intense eyes, and her top lip seems strangely curled, as if there's a small scar just beneath her nose. Still, the scar does nothing to make her any less beautiful, and I can't help staring at her for a moment longer. I wish I was pretty, like her, even if it meant having a scar. Some people just -

Suddenly, hearing a horrified scream from far off in the house, I turn and look over at the doorway. In the distance, voices are shouting and footsteps can be heard racing through the rooms.

***

“What is it?” I shout, finally catching up to the others as they hurry through the door in the corner of the pantry, heading through to the colder part of the house. “What's wrong?”

“Stay down here,” Dad says, clearly panicking as he races up the stairs.

“What's wrong?” I ask again, as the scream continues. After a moment, I realize I can see Mum, Dad and Aunt Emily, which means the only person who's missing is... “Nathan?” I whisper, before starting to run up after them. “Where's Nathan? What's wrong with him?”

“I think he's through here!” Dad yells, hurrying along one of the corridors that I explored last night.

“What's wrong with him?” I ask, but still no-one explains anything to me. I trail along behind the adults, and all the while my brother continues to scream in the distance. I honestly can't imagine what might be wrong with him, but I figure he must have fallen and hurt himself somehow. Slipping past Aunt Emily, who seems unable to run very fast, I catch up to Mum and Dad just as they reach the next junction.

“Where's it coming from?” Dad asks breathlessly.

“What the fuck is that little shit doing now?” Mum stammers, taking another drag from her cigarette.

“This way!” I tell them, pushing past and hurrying along the next corridor. I'm certain Nathan's scream is coming from up ahead, and as I take a couple more turns I realize that he seems to be in the little dead-end room that I found last night. When I get there, however, I can't see any sign of him, although the scream seems closer than ever.

Finally, I turn and look toward the locked door, and I realize he seems to be on the other side.

“Nathan?” I whisper, taking a step closer. “How did you -”

“Nathan!” Dad yells, rushing past me so fast that he almost knocks me off my feet.

Steadying myself, I watch as he tries to get the door open.

“Oh fuck,” Mum mutters as she reaches me. “Em, where's the fucking key?”

“Where is he?” Aunt Emily stammers. “Where -”

“Where's the fucking key, you daft old bitch?” Mum shouts, grabbing Aunt Emily by the shoulders and slamming her into the wall. “My fucking son is in there, you idiot! Where's the key? I know you have it!”

Reaching up with trembling hands, Aunt Emily starts removing a key from a chain around her neck.

Pushing her hands aside, Mum grabs the chain and snaps it loose, quickly slipping the key off.

“I told you this was a bad idea!” she snaps to Aunt Emily, before hurrying over and shoving Dad away from the door. “If he's hurt...”

I watch in horror as Mum struggles to get the key into the lock, but finally she's able to get it turned and the door clicks open. Stepping forward, I see another dull, empty corridor on the other side, although Nathan's scream is much louder now. Whatever he's doing in there, he sounds like he's in pain.

“Wait here,” Dad says, stepping in front of me and blocking my way as Mum heads through to find my brother.

“I want to help!” I tell him. I try to slip past, only for him to grab my arm and hold me in place.

“Your mother has it all under control,” Dad replies, gripping my arm tight. “Just wait and everything will be okay. You're not allowed in there, Becky.”

“Why not?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Just stop asking questions,” he continues. “Everything's going to be fine, I promise.”

“Oh God,” Aunt Emily sobs, stepping toward the open door. “She won't hurt him, I know she won't.”

“Let Barbara do it,” Dad says, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Please, Emily. It might be for the best.” He sighs. “I knew this visit was a mistake. I told Barbara, but she wouldn't listen. Sometimes I think she doesn't give a damn what I think about anything.”

Suddenly Nathan's scream ends, and I realize I can hear footsteps at the far end of the corridor. I step around Dad and see Mum hurrying this way with Nathan in her arms. He's red-faced and sobbing, and she quickly carries him past and takes him along the corridor. The sound of his heaving moans is shocking, almost as if something has really dug deep into my brother's soul and started tearing him apart.

What's more terrifying, however, is the look in Mum's eyes. They seem almost blank, as if she's seen something horrific.

“Is Nathan okay?” I call after her, still trying not to panic even though my brother is wailing with fear. “What happened?”

“This is great,” Dad mutters, hurrying after Mum as Aunt Emily turns and watches them go.

I wait for a moment, before hearing a faint scratching sound over my shoulder. Turning, I look through the now-open door and see the next corridor stretching into the distance. The corridor doesn't look any different to the others I've explored so far, but that only makes me even more curious about the fact that the door was kept locked. I guess it
might
have been an accident, and maybe Nathan simply found another route into that part of the house, but at the same time I can't help thinking that the adults seem to be hiding something. Even Aunt Emily seems shaken to her core as she stands over on the far side of the room, listening to the sound of Nathan's sobs getting further and further away.

And that look in Mum's eyes was new.

I've never seen her life that before.

I have to find out what happened to Nathan, so I step over to the doorway, determined to -

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Aunt Emily says suddenly, slamming the door shut and quickly turning the key. “You don't want to disobey your mother, do you?”

“But -”

“Come on,” she adds, putting a hand around my shoulder and steering me away from the door, back toward the corridor. “Nothing's wrong, Rebecca. I'm sure your brother just overreacted to something silly.”