Creeping Shadow (The Rise of Isaac, Book One) (3 page)

Oliver nodded, trying to keep his anger contained as he walked off down the corridor to retrieve the phonebook.

He couldn't understand how Hawking had done it but knew, if it was worth covering up, his mum must be in serious trouble.

2

The Family Tree

O
liver sat next to his sister in the back of a BMW that smelt of leather and lemons, suggesting it had recently been valeted. The car wound through narrow lanes surrounded by trees that arched over the road, the tips of their leaves tickling each other in the wind.

Their social worker, Mr Greene, leant around to talk to them from the passenger seat. May continued to stare out of the window, her eyes glassy and her jaw set.

"I know this is going to be difficult but your grandfather is very excited for you to come and live with him," Mr Greene said.

"We've never even met him," Oliver replied, folding his arms.

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that he's family and he'll take very good care of you both."

"I just want to go home," May muttered.

"We shouldn't be moving so far away. I want to help the police look for her," Oliver snapped.

"She's only been missing a week and we're already being relocated," May agreed.

Mr Greene gave them a sympathetic look. "The police know what they're doing. It's best if you leave them to it. I can let you know if there's any news on your mother's whereabouts."

"We should be helping. No one knows her as well as we do," Oliver said stubbornly, resenting the man's pity.

"You'll feel better when you get there. Wait 'til you see the place. You guys are gonna love it," Mr Greene said, turning back to face the front and closing the subject.

"I don't care how nice it is. It isn't our home," Oliver said, catching a look of frustration from May.

He sighed and leant against the window, balling his fists. He had to bite his tongue more than he normally would of late, knowing that his actions could affect the both of them. His quick temper had already caused him problems with the police during the investigation.

May had warned him not to mention Hawking again and even they had barely spoken of it since. He couldn't understand how the man had managed it and fear raked at his heart when he considered the notion that Hawking had something to do with his mum's absence. Since that night, he was left in a state of anxiety and found himself plagued by vivid dreams that brought his fears to life.

After a week of searching, the police had looked for his mum's will. It had stated that her father was to be given full custody of her children in the event of her death. Oliver knew next to nothing about his grandfather who lived miles away in the countryside. It was only now that he truly appreciated how odd that was.

* * *

The car entered a quaint village, winding up a hill past a small school. Locals were meandering up the street looking happy and content with their lives and Oliver stared out at them bitterly, wishing he was back in his own home.

The car approached a steep hill covered in trees on the outskirts of the village. At its base sat a wide gateway with an ornate sign upon it that announced their arrival at Oakway Manor. The driver indicated, turned off of the road, and drove through it.

The track wound higher and higher up the hill, the trees so dense that they blotted out the sunlight. Oliver peered into the gloom and May pressed her face gently against the window.

"Are we nearly there?" she asked.

"Yes, this is your grandfather's estate," Mr Greene said.

"What? He owns all of this?" Oliver asked, distracted for the first time.

"Uhuh, great isn't it?" Mr Greene said enthusiastically.

"I guess," Oliver said, his eyes flicking from tree to tree as the car moved through the woodland.

They emerged in a clearing and caught their first glimpse of their grandfather's home. Oliver sat forward in his seat, taking in the grand building.

It looked as though it had once been a fine, manor house but now the grey stone was cracked and aged; thick vines wrapped around the walls which seemed to be holding parts of the building together.

A colossal tree appeared to have grown straight through the heart of it, creating a gaping hole where it burst through the rafters. The canopy hung over the house in a display of brightly coloured leaves, splashes of yellow and orange signalling the start of Autumn. Branches reached out through the top windows and their boughs were bent where they had grown skyward in search of sunlight.

"May, are you seeing this?" Oliver glanced at her.

"I see it. Why's there a tree growing out of it?" she asked, looking stunned.

"There you are. What do you make of that then?" Mr Greene asked smugly, as if unveiling a grand prize.

"Are we actually going to be living here?" Oliver looked at the man disbelievingly, unable to truly accept how much his life was changing.

"Yep," he said, smiling at them.

Oliver felt an irrational surge of anger towards the man though he knew Mr Greene wasn't to blame for their situation.

The driver revved the car's engine as it laboured up the steepest part of the hill, coming to a stop with a jolt as he pulled the handbrake. Mr Greene exited the vehicle and opened the door for May. Oliver climbed out slowly and looked up at the building, wondering who would choose to live in such a strange house.

An enormous, wooden door creaked as it opened beneath a twisted, stone porch. A tiny man appeared in the doorway wearing a suede coat and a fancy neckerchief. He had a thick head of dark hair accompanied by a short beard.

Their grandfather was much younger-looking than Oliver expected and would have assumed the man was in his forties if he hadn't known it was impossible. He had a round nose and large, round eyes to match which bulged as they landed on Oliver.

In his haste, the man half ran, half fell down the crumbling, stone steps. He grabbed Oliver's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Oliver, great to finally meet you. Just wonderful. Don't you look like your mother? You can see she got all the looks in the family, eh? Good for you, good for you."

Oliver nodded vaguely, feeling bemused. "Thank you, er, sir."

"Oh good heavens, you can forget about calling me
sir
. We're family after all, aren't we? Just call me Ely. Bit odd after all these years to call me Grandpa, I'd expect."

Oliver opened his mouth to answer but his grandfather dove towards May before he had a chance.

"And this must be May. Aren't you a beauty? At least those parents of yours left you something, eh? Whoever they were."

Oliver noticed May's cheeks touch with the familiar hint of crimson that often appeared in front of strangers.

"Thank you," she said quietly, shaking Ely's outstretched hand. "You don't look old enough to be our grandfather."

Ely chuckled, running a hand through his hair and Oliver suddenly noticed there were, in fact, flecks of grey in it. "You're very kind but I can assure you I'm quite ancient." He rubbed his eyes as if he were weary and when he took his hand away Oliver noticed heavy creases around them.

Oliver frowned, wondering why he had ever thought the man looked so young.

Their grandfather's expression became grave as he surveyed them. "But of course you must both be feeling quite distraught about your mother. I'm sure she'll turn up soon, no doubt there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for her disappearance."

Oliver nodded stiffly, thinking of Hawking once more and May mumbled her assent.

Mr Greene moved in front of them and offered his own palm in greeting. "Good to see you again, Mr Fox. We've had a long trip from London, would you mind if we went inside?"

"Not at all, not at all. Follow me," Ely said, spinning on his heel and traipsing back into the house.

They followed him and arrived in an impressive hallway where the wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet. The trunk of the tree grew up through the centre of the room, almost six feet wide with a carved, circular door hanging open on silver hinges. Inside, an alluring staircase of polished wood spiralled upwards out of sight.

"What do you think, guys?" Mr Greene asked excitedly.

"It's, different," Oliver said slowly.

"Yeah, great," May said uncertainly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

A
tip-tapping
noise came down the stairs. It grew louder and louder until a large, long-bodied black cat appeared at the bottom wearing a fancy bow tie around its neck. Its eyes were circular and fiery orange in colour. The animal sat and trilled a loud meow.

Ely lifted the creature into the air and the cat snuggled into his arms, looking back at them curiously. "This is Humphrey," Ely announced.

May stepped forward and petted him, making the cat purr loudly.

"Is there somewhere we could talk privately, Mr Fox? There are a few final things we need to go over," Mr Greene said.

Ely nodded and placed Humphrey on the floor where the cat began weaving in between his legs.

"Of course, not a problem." Ely turned to Oliver and May. "Why don't you go and get your things in from the car? Then I can show you two to your rooms," he said, dismissing them and ushering Mr Greene through a door to their left.

Oliver went back to the car and the driver popped the boot. He swung his bag onto his back and chucked May's to her before walking back up to the house.

"I can't believe this is happening," May said, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"We'll just be here 'til they find her. This place isn't that bad," he said.

"Yeah, but it's not home," she said, almost accusingly.

"I didn't say it was," Oliver said with a frown.

They returned to the hallway where Mr Greene was shaking Ely's hand as they said their goodbyes. Mr Greene turned to them as they entered.

"If you have any problems you can always give me a ring," he said in a serious tone, passing them each a card with his contact details on. "I'll let you know if there's any news on your mother's whereabouts. Just sit tight."

Mr Greene clapped Oliver on the shoulder and walked through the front door, leaving him feeling thoroughly abandoned.

"Wonderful. Cheery-bye," Ely said, shutting the large, wooden door with a
bang
that echoed up through the house. He turned to Oliver and May. "Follow me."

Ely disappeared into the tree trunk as he ascended the staircase with Humphrey trotting merrily after him. Oliver placed a foot on the first step and looked up to see the stairway spiralling out of sight above him.

As they climbed, he caught glimpses of corridors that led away from the staircase. Some were dark and uninviting whilst others bright and intriguing. They reached the higher levels where tree branches curved along the ceiling and stretched out into the sunlight through crumbling holes in the walls.

Ely led them down a wide corridor where vines were splayed across the wallpaper resembling long, spindly fingers. They reached two doors on either side of a vast, amber-tinted window which caused a warm light to be cast across the mahogany floor.

"This is your room, May." Ely gestured to the room on the right. "It was your mother's when she was growing up," he said with a sad smile.

Oliver instantly burned with curiosity.

"And, Oliver, you'll be staying in my son's old room. Your uncle Pilford was a bit of a neat-freak but you can be as messy or as tidy as you like." He smiled.

Oliver started at the news that he had an uncle and felt a pang of fury at his mother for never telling him. He buried the feeling as guilt writhed inside his stomach like a worm. He didn't want to be angry at her until she had returned safe and sound.

Oliver stepped up to the tall door, turned the intricate handle at its centre with a
squeak
of metal then moved into the room.

The ceiling was high but the bedroom felt cosy. It was swathed in rose-tinted, evening sunlight that bled into the room from a glass-paned door which led onto a balcony. A small fireplace crackled quietly on one side and a bed was tucked in a corner next to it.

There was a worn, red armchair in front of the fire and a teak bookcase sat beside it. Oliver approached it and found the shelves empty. Dust marked the edges where books had sat, suggesting they had recently been removed. He frowned, wondering why they hadn't been left in place.

Oliver turned and went through the glass door, gazing out from the balcony. It overlooked a steep garden that ran down to a mass of trees, beyond which, were fields and farmland as far as the eye could see. Magenta-coloured clouds hung in the sky which was painted in pastel shades of pink, orange and purple. It was so unlike the city townhouse he was used to but he couldn't deny that the setting was beautiful.

Looking up, Oliver saw the large canopy of the tree that grew through the house, swaying in the wind. Withered, brown leaves came floating down in a sudden breeze that caused the hairs on his arms to rise.

He noticed that the balcony allowed him to enter May's room so he moved across the platform, slid the other door open and joined his sister and Ely.

Oliver recognised his mother's style in the decoration of the large room. Soft, pink cushions were piled on the bed and silk curtains hung around the balcony door. There was an oak wardrobe on one side of the room and an exquisite dressing table which held trinkets he itched to examine. With a flutter of fear he recalled her devastated room back at their old house but forced the image away.