Secret of the Shadows (2 page)

‘But they were there.’ I pointed at the window. ‘There must be a nest of them behind that chest.’

Mum looked behind the chest, then she dragged it clear of the window. Nothing. The wall beneath the window was freshly painted white. ‘You and that imagination of yours, Tyler.’ And she laughed. But I couldn’t even smile. All I could think of was, where had all the spiders gone?

She helped me vacuum and dust the room and after a while, we left.

But I should have known then. The door that wouldn’t stay open, the cold in that room, the spiders. I should have realised something evil was there in that house. But I didn’t. Instead, I went with Aunt Belle to stay there for the summer, and moved into a nightmare.

Chapter 3

The first day

Aunt Belle arrived the next day. We could make her out a mile off as she came through customs, waving frantically, with her permed blonde hair, her perfect make-up and her long, painted nails. ‘Hi there! Hi there!’ she was shouting as she pushed through the crowd. As if anyone could miss her. She descended upon us in a mist of perfume, kissing each of us in turn and leaving great scarlet lips on our cheeks. Dad looked embarrassed, but Mum and I couldn’t stop laughing.

‘It’s so nice to be here,’ she kept saying, and Mum said she wished she wasn’t going to Australia now.

‘Nonsense,’ Aunt Belle said. ‘You’ll have a wonderful time. It’s been too long since you’ve seen your sister. Sisters are important,’ she said wistfully, remembering her sister, my gran. Then she hugged me again and planted another red kiss on my face. ‘And Tyler and I are going to have a great time, isn’t that right, honey?’

That night we all went out for dinner. Aunt Belle charmed us all. I hadn’t seen her since Gran’s funeral, and then, the fun had gone out of her. It was back now. She assured Steven how handsome he was, and that was all the compliment Steven needed to have him eating out of her hand. At last someone was agreeing with him. He thought he was pretty handsome too. And I knew that it pleased Mum and Dad to see how well my aunt and I got on. It would make them feel better about leaving us.

Aunt Belle and I saw Mum and Dad off at the airport the following morning, before we headed down the coast to Mille Failte. Dad had insisted Aunt Belle use his car while she was here, but I was more than a bit wary of Aunt Belle’s driving.

‘What’s this stick here for?’ she asked, and when I told her it was the gear stick she scowled. ‘You mean it isn’t an automatic?’ She kept forgetting it wasn’t, and the car jerked and bumped all the way. Indicating was something else she just couldn’t get the hang of and she kept bawling at other drivers who got in her way. I was sure we were never going to make it to the house alive.

But at last we did. Mille Failte was situated at the far end of a small village on the coast, just twenty-five miles from where we lived. It was right at the mouth of the River Clyde before it opens out to the Irish Sea, distant hills on the other side of the river. On a good day, the island of Arran was just visible in the distance. The village had one main street with a line of fine houses on one side of the road and the shore on the other. We passed the caravan park and then the Riverside Grill on the shore-side before we came to the single-track road that led to the bungalow. I hadn’t realised before how isolated it was.

‘Didn’t it bother you and Gran it was so far away from the main road, on its own out here?’

Aunt Belle brushed that notion aside. ‘It’s not so far away. A good fifteen-minute walk is all and you’re back on the main road. And bothered? In this little village? A crime wave here is when two five-year-olds have a fight in the school playground.’ She had a laugh that bubbled and it made me laugh too. ‘No, honey, for us the remoteness only added to its appeal.’ She grew silent as we drew near the house, and I knew she was remembering Gran, just as Mum had.

She cried when she stepped into the house. Her tears upset me too. It wasn’t like Aunt Belle to cry. She was usually so much fun. Gran used to say Aunt Belle had never grown up. I just think she never wants to grow old. She loves being with young people, maybe that’s why she and I get on so well.

I let her cry. I made her a cup of tea and took it into the front room and found her sitting in Gran’s blue armchair.

Finally, she sniffed and said, ‘Your gran wouldn’t have wanted me to cry too much. It’s just we had so many plans, your gran and I.’

‘You could still come here and live. Not bother selling the house. Wouldn’t you like to do that?’

She shook her head. ‘Not without your gran. It wouldn’t be the same. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Some things aren’t, you know. It’s made me realise I really am an American now. A New Yorker.’ She reached out and touched my hand. ‘But you and I are going to have a lovely time here this summer, I’m looking forward to it.’

I thought she might cry again when I carried her case into Gran’s bedroom, but her crying was done. ‘We both wanted this room, you know. We decided to toss for it. Can you imagine? I think your gran cheated. Used a two-headed coin! She said she should have the en suite anyway, because she was older than me.’ She still laughed at the memory.

Aunt Belle felt the cold in my room too, as soon as we entered it. ‘It wasn’t cold like this when I slept here. I was only here for a couple of nights, of course. But I think you’re right, Tyler, there’s a draught coming from somewhere. We’ll call someone tomorrow, get it sorted.’

I was going to tell her about the spiders, but it sounded silly now. I still couldn’t explain where they had gone. All my imagination. While she gushed over the view from the window, I dragged the chest to the bottom of my bed. I would feel a lot better if the space under that window was clear.

Mum had filled the fridge and the freezer with food for us, but Aunt Belle decided that on our first night we should have dinner at the Riverside Grill.

It was late when we came back in, but still light. I got into my cosy jammies, and Aunt Belle appeared in the living room wearing a glamorous, purple silk dressing gown and high-heeled slippers. She was also carrying a dummy head with a blonde wig on it.

I burst out laughing. ‘I didn’t know you wore a wig!’

‘Oh goodness yes.’ I saw then her own hair was thin, wisps of blonde hair tinged with grey. She looked around the room. ‘Where can I put this so it gets some air?’

No wonder she made me laugh. She placed her wig gently on the windowsill.

‘Aunt Belle, even without your wig you look like a film star,’ I said.

‘I always like to feel good, honey. Your gran used to laugh too.’

It was even later before we said goodnight. I went into her room with her and sat on the bed, and we drank hot chocolate and talked. By the time I was closing her door her light was out, her eyes already shut.

I walked down the hall to my room. I had decided to wedge the door with a heavy book, but the room itself was in shadowy darkness and I wished I had left the bedside lamp turned on. It seemed the whole house was dark and silent. I felt alone.

The cold hit me as soon as I stepped inside, as if someone had blown their icy breath towards me. I jumped into bed and pulled the duvet tight around me. I switched on the bedside lamp and its light sent out a warm glow. I could see myself in the tall mirror in one corner, a girl with long fair hair and freckles, and blue eyes. I smiled and my reflection smiled back.

It was a lovely little bedroom. Yet it was so cold. My nose was like an ice cube. I pulled the duvet almost over my head.

I was tired, I decided, and needed sleep. I switched off the light and slid deeper under the covers.

I don’t know what woke me, perhaps the wind outside or the sound of the sea rushing into the shore. But I opened my eyes and felt sure I was not alone. Someone was in the room with me.

‘Aunt Belle?’ My first thought was that she had woken up and come in, but there was no answer. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

The door was closed.

I had wedged it open. How had it managed to close?

And then, it seemed there was a movement in the corner, in that armchair. My eyes flickered towards it. It looked almost as if someone was sitting there. A dark figure. I blinked, trying to focus. It did look as if something was there. And not just sitting, but moving. A shadow stirring into life. My hand was shaking as I reached out to switch on the lamp. Someone was in that corner, I could swear they were. Ready to stand and take a step towards me.

I flicked the switch and light filled the room. The chair was empty and behind it was only the tall lamp with its lopsided shade. It leaned over the back of the chair like a drunken man. I felt stupid. I had obviously mistaken the lamp for a figure. I stared at it for a long time, waiting for it to move, for the shade to topple and fall. But nothing happened. And for a second there, in the midnight of my room, I remembered Ben Kincaid and the statues that used to turn to watch me.

I waited for another sign, but nothing came, nothing changed. Of course nothing changed! Strange things didn’t happen in bright little bungalows like this. They happened in great Victorian mansions. Or in old schools, with long, dark corridors. Not here. I was being silly, I decided.

But I still slept the rest of the night with the light on.

Chapter 4

The second day

All my friends came to the house the next day. It would be the last time I would see them before they went off on their respective holidays. I’d told them so much about Aunt Belle they were all dying to meet her.

Aisha and Jazz arrived first. ‘Hope you don’t mind us turning up like this,’ Aisha said. Jazz didn’t bother apologising. She was sure we would be happy to see her. Out of school, she went mad with her style. Her black hair stuck up in spikes and her eyes were smudged black too. She was so different to Aisha, with her long brown hair held back in a neat clasp. Although maybe Jazz was just what Aisha needed to put the fun into her life.

‘The boys are coming later,’ Jazz said, chewing gum, pink through her bright white teeth. ‘We thought we could phone for pizza or something.’ She turned to Aunt Belle. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

Aunt Belle laughed. ‘Mind? Of course not. And forget about pizza. I’m going to make a spaghetti Bolognese for us all.’

‘The boys are coming?’ I mumbled.

Jazz gave me a playful push. ‘Including Mac. Don’t worry.’

‘Mac?’ Aunt Belle said, lifting a painted eyebrow.

Jazz smiled. ‘She hasn’t told you about Mac? He’s her boyfriend.’

‘Not exactly my boyfriend, he’s just . . .’

Jazz shook her head. ‘He’s her boyfriend, Aunt Belle.’ She was already adopting my aunt as her own. She turned to Aisha. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘’Fraid so. We just don’t know what she sees in him.’

Aunt Belle was delighted. ‘Oh, I am looking forward to meeting him,’ she said.

‘It’s a bit quiet here, isn’t it?’ Jazz said, peering out of the window at the sea. ‘Wouldn’t like to be here by myself on a dark and stormy night.’ She gave me another push. ‘Bet you could write a great story about this place, Tyler. You know, one of your creepy ones, about ghosts and ghouls.’

‘It used to be even more remote.’ Aunt Belle joined her at the window. ‘When it was first built, it was completely isolated.’

Jazz grinned. ‘I think I prefer it this way. Aunt Belle,’ she went on, ‘I have seen too many films where the beautiful heroine is alone in a remote house and a mad axe man is after her. And I always see myself as the beautiful heroine.’

She’d have to fight Aunt Belle for that role, I thought.

I had planned to tell them all about the spiders and the weird feeling that had woken me up in the night, but finally decided against it. It seemed absurd now, and Jazz would only say it was another of my stories. I couldn’t hide the cold though. As soon as Jazz and Aisha walked into the room, they felt it.

‘Where is that draught coming from?’ Jazz asked, rubbing at her arms.

I swung round to answer her and gasped. There was a shadow on the chair. It sprang to life, leaping from the seat. I stumbled back.

But it was only Aisha. She caught my arm. ‘Hey, Tyler, what’s wrong?’

‘I–I didn’t see you sitting there. You gave me a fright.’

Aunt Belle came in just then, carrying an electric heater. ‘This is going to stay on till this room warms up.’

Aisha settled back in the chair again. ‘I love this room. I would sit in here at night and read my book.’

‘And think about Callum . . .’ Jazz nodded to Aunt Belle. ‘That’s her boyfriend.’

‘And have you got one, Jazz?’ Aunt Belle asked.

‘Who’d have her?’ Aisha said.

‘She scares boys too much,’ I said, and we laughed and all of a sudden the room didn’t seem frightening. No one else seemed to feel the strangeness in here. Only me. I decided then that in the dead of night when I woke up and it was cold and I imagined something in that chair, I would remember this moment, remember Aisha sitting there laughing, and I wouldn’t be afraid again.

Chapter 5

‘Who does your nails?’ Jazz asked Aunt Belle, when we went back into the front room. She lifted Aunt Belle’s hand and studied them with admiration. ‘They’re lovely.’