The Midnight Carnival (26 page)

Grace dropped to her knees. She put her head in her hands and sobbed into the ground.

Grace stood in the cul-de-sac of Wilton Place, gazing up at the boarded windows. She had wondered if Murdrina’s hex would die without her, but evidently it hadn’t.

‘Hey, Brennan.’ Jenny clambered through the hedge from the school football pitch looking every bit as beaten up as
Grace. ‘Didn’t break the hex then.’

‘No,’ Grace replied.

‘We’ll get her out. Eventually.’

‘Sure.’

Grace was weary and had no tears left. They’d try their best to get Mrs Quinlan out but they’d never be able to get the doctor out. As if reading her mind, Jenny said,

‘It was his choice, and you did what you had to do. He saved us all and you helped him.’

‘Drake and Agata…’

‘They understand.’ Jenny sighed. ‘They’re upset, I know, but they understand. Give them time.’

There was nothing more to say so they stood in silence together, watching the house.

Until it coughed.

The house coughed. The front door opened and stretched like a mouth, the hall rug flipped out like a tongue, and the house coughed.

‘Bloody hell,’ it snarled, ‘it tastes like I swallowed a fistful of cat hair.’

The boards on the upper windows splintered and fell off. The windows blinked like eyes opening, the brickwork bending like rubber.

‘What are you two doing standing there? And you. I thought I told you to get lost.’

Jenny gawped for a minute.

‘You did. I came back.’

‘So what, you’re gonna be a model student now? Fat chance. Sod off.’

‘Eh, Mrs Quinlan,’ Jenny said, ‘you’re a house.’

The house paused for a moment, as if trying to recall recent events.

‘Oh, balls.’

‘It suits you.’

‘Shut it, you. Where’s Beth Lemon?’

‘She’s trying to sort out things at the school,’ said Grace.

‘What happened at the school?’

‘The P block got blown up.’

‘Typical. I go incommunicado for five minutes and you lot are blowing up buildings.’

‘It wasn’t us–’

‘I don’t want to hear it. I…
caugh, caaaugh
.’

The house began coughing again, eventually hacking up a large ball of fur that came flying out of the door mouth. The ball unfurled on the lawn and meowed.

‘God, Mephis,’ Mrs Quinlan said, ‘you’re like sandpaper with thorns in.’ The walls groaned as the house wriggled from side to side. ‘There’s millions of them in here, all scratching and… Oi! Knock it off or I’ll kick you all out.’

‘Don’t worry, Mrs Quinlan,’ Grace said, ‘we’ll get you out of there.’

‘Oh, you lot are on the case. I’ll hold my breath, shall I? Any day now?’

‘It might take a while.’

‘There’s a shocker.’

The house wriggled again.

‘Did you know I had a basement? There’s a basement in here.’

Carved pumpkins glowed in the porches along Wilton Place. Kids in costume called to the doors in groups and stood on the road with their bags held up, comparing their loot. Grace carried a crate of apples and followed a bat, a Frankenstein’s monster and a green-skinned witch up the driveway to Mrs Quinlan’s house.

‘Love the costumes,’ Grace said as she knocked on the door.

‘Thank you,’ the kids chimed in unison.

The door rattled suddenly in its frame and swung open. The hall was dark except for a pumpkin that sat on a console table to one side. As the kids watched, the pumpkin turned, a flame burning inside its gaping mouth, and said,

‘Come inside, children. You’re just in time….
for dinner.
’

Its mouth twisted wide in a horrible roar. Grace rolled her eyes as the kids ran screaming from the porch. Una came racing from the kitchen with a large bowl of lollipops and chocolate bars.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Mrs Quinlan,’ she said, ‘those ones didn’t get even get any sweets.’

Wheezing laughter shook the walls of the house and Grace carried her crate of apples inside.

‘For toffee apples,’ she said, planting the crate on the table, ‘and that Halloween game. What it’s called?’

‘Bobbing for apples,’ Rachel said, draping a garland of paper spiderwebs around Grace’s shoulders.

‘What about that one where there’s an apple hanging on a string and you have to try and bite it without using your hands?’ asked Jenny.

‘You cheat at that one,’ Una said. ‘You jam it up against the door frame.’

‘It’s called strategising, Una. That’s what a winner does.’

Grace pulled a newspaper from inside the crate and slapped it on the table.

‘I also found this.’

‘What is it?’ Adie asked.

‘Latest edition of
The Chronicle
. Take a look at that photo.’

She pointed to a fuzzy black and white picture of a man on the steps of a courthouse, under the headline
Insurance Scammer
Indicted for Fraud
.

‘Isn’t that Felix, the ringmaster? He looks weird in a suit.’

‘Yep, and check out who’s trailing along behind him.’

Una leaned in and gasped.

‘Is that Justine?’

‘Without the beard. She must have shaved it off when they went down the con artist route.’

‘Ha,’ Una jammed a finger into the paper, ‘how do you like them apples, Justine?’

She grabbed an apple from the crate and chomped on it.

‘Good riddance,’ Jenny agreed.

‘Anyone for a slice of brack?’ Ms Lemon began carving the fruity loaf on the counter.

‘Be careful of your teeth, Miss,’ Adie said.

‘Yeah,’ said Rachel, ‘Una got a little overzealous with the hidden surprises. That loaf is mostly rings and coins.’

‘I was making sure everyone would get something,’ Una snarled. ‘You’re all so ungrateful.’

‘Trick-or-treaters!’ a voice boomed from inside the walls. ‘Get there quick if you want to give the brats some chocolate. I’m gonna see if I can make these ones pee.’

Tutting, Rachel snatched the bowl of sweets and hurried to the front door.

‘When are Drake and Agata coming?’ Delilah asked, wincing as B-brr swung Tarzan-like from her hair, chattering to himself.

‘A little later,’ Grace replied. ‘Agata was all excited about the trick-or-treating, she ordered her favourite sweets from Germany especially. Drake said they looked gross.’

‘Do you think we could get Drake to wear a fake tail and jump out at kids like a real giant lizard? That would be so funny,’ said Una.

She looked around at the appalled faces.

‘What? I want to use my unusual-looking friend to scare small children. What’s wrong with that?’

‘I brought some popcorn,’ Adie said, changing the subject, ‘for the movies later.’

‘Ooh, I have some brilliant stuff.’ Jenny pulled a bunch of
DVDs from her bag. ‘You won’t sleep for a week after watching these.’

‘I don’t know,’ Grace said. ‘Watching scary movies when Mrs Quinlan’s bound to try and scare us at the same time? I might not be up for that.’

Jenny snorted.

‘She couldn’t scare me.’

Reeoooowwww!

A long-haired cat was hurled from inside the wall and landed on Jenny’s hair, howling and clawing to hold on. The tall girl screamed, slapping at her head. Mrs Quinlan’s snickering vibrated through the floor.

‘You’re hilarious, old crone,’ Jenny said, smoothing her auburn hair.

‘You might want to watch your mouth,’ the house replied. ‘You’ll be me one day.’

‘Fat chance.’

Rachel returned from the hall and plonked the bowl down on the kitchen table.

‘After all the screaming that lot did, I doubt any other kids are coming in. I’d say that’s it for the trick-or-treaters.’

‘Why don’t we take some chocolate over to Bob?’ Delilah said, eyeing the still-full bowl of sweets.

‘That’s a lovely idea,’ Adie said. ‘I bet he never gets to eat chocolate.’

‘Not if you can’t hunt it in the woods,’ said Jenny.

‘We can have some punch when we get back,’ Ms Lemon said.
‘It won’t take long to make up.’

Jenny and Mrs Quinlan snorted at the same time.

‘Punch?’ said Jenny. ‘We’re not in a Jane Austen novel, Miss.’

‘I thought we could have a toast for the doctor, when Drake and Agata arrive.’

Everyone was silent for a few moments.

‘I’d like that,’ said Grace. ‘So would Drake and Agata.’

‘Oh, good,’ Ms Lemon looked relieved, ‘I didn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes, but…’

‘It’s a lovely thought, Miss,’ Jenny said. ‘Right, will we head off then?’

‘Oh, just sod off and leave me by myself, why don’t you,’ said Mrs Quinlan.

‘We are.’

Jenny scooped up the bowl, gave one of the skirting boards a sharp kick for good measure, and headed into the hall with everyone else following behind. Grace was last to the front door.

‘You know, Mrs Quinlan,’ she said in the hall, ‘Delilah’s already found some really in-depth stuff on hexes. Stuff that not even Bob knew.’

‘’Course she has. She’s bright as a button.’

‘So I don’t think it’ll be long at all.’

‘I’m sorry, are we having a moment here? Am I supposed to cry and talk about my feelings? Wah-wah-wah.’

‘Happy Halloween, Mrs Quinlan.’

‘Bah, humbug.’

Grace smiled and pulled the door closed.

ERIKA MCGANN grew up in Drogheda and now lives in Dublin. As a kid she wanted to be a witch, but was no good at it, so now she spends her time writing supernatural stories, and living vicariously through her characters. She hopes, in time, to develop the skills to become an all-powerful being. She has written three other books about Grace and her friends,
The Demon Notebook, The Broken Spell
and
The Watching Wood
.