Shiverton Hall (13 page)

Chapter Eleven

‘Arthur!’ Penny said, exasperated.

Arthur jerked his attention back to her. They were talking in the lower-school common room at break, and Arthur had been distracted by the arrival of a girl who at first glance had looked like Amber.

‘I was listening!’ Arthur protested.

‘Yeah, right,’ Penny replied. ‘You’re so transparent. But I wouldn’t bother looking around anyway. Amber never comes to break – she has to go back to house to put on more make-up.’

Arthur laughed.

‘It’s true!’ Penny said, with only the tiniest hint of enjoyment. ‘I’ve seen her. You don’t think she looks that good naturally? Smoke and mirrors, my friend.’

Before Arthur could reply, George appeared next to them, panting.

‘What’s wrong?’ Penny said, suddenly serious.

‘Have either of you seen Jake?’ George asked, looking stricken.

‘No, why?’ Arthur asked.

‘He didn’t check in at house last night and he didn’t turn up for lessons this morning. All the teachers are looking for him.’

‘Maybe he went home?’ Arthur suggested. ‘He seemed pretty worried about his mum.’

‘No,’ George said, ‘they’ve already thought of that. His housemaster called his home and he’s not there.’

‘You don’t think –’ Arthur began.

‘Don’t!’ Penny said, horrified. ‘I’m sure it’s just a mix-up.’

But Penny didn’t sound convinced.

The bell rang and the trio made their way along the gravel path to the science block, silent and tense. Just as they reached its entrance, there was a commotion in the forest next to them. Voices shouted urgently, and a few students gathered on the edge of the wood, craning their necks to see what the fuss was all about. Penny, Arthur and George ran over, nudging the others out of the way.

Deep within the forest, they could make out two teachers struggling to carry a limp, lifeless body. The white blond hair was unmistakable.

Another teacher arrived to corral the students away. ‘Go back inside,’ he said urgently.

‘What’s going on?’ Penny said, a sob in her throat.

‘Get inside, now, all of you,’ the teacher repeated.

‘That’s our friend,’ George said angrily. ‘What’s happened to him?’

The teachers emerged from the forest with Jake deathly pale in their arms.

‘No!’ Penny cried, running towards him, shrugging off the teacher who tried to hold her back.

‘He’s unconscious,’ said one of the teachers carrying Jake. ‘Please get out of the way – we need to get him inside.’

George let out a groan that was part relief, part horror. Arthur put an arm around him.

‘Will he be OK?’ Penny asked, running alongside the teachers as they hurried towards the school.

‘I don’t know,’ one replied. ‘He needs an ambulance.’

Penny stopped and watched them, trembling, as they carried Jake away.

Arthur, George and Penny sat in the empty Garnons library waiting for news. Penny’s face was blotchy from crying. George and Arthur had long given up making small talk. It was nearly six o’clock in the evening, and all of them were dreading the knock on the door in case it brought bad news. When it came, they leapt up, bracing themselves, squeezing each other’s hands.

It was Toynbee.

‘Jake is stable,’ he said as he entered, to a rush of relief. ‘But we still don’t know how grave the situation is. He’s in a coma.’

Penny gripped Arthur’s hand tighter.

‘Jake hit his head very hard, and he was in the woods all night, in freezing temperatures,’ Toynbee explained. ‘The doctors say he also has hypothermia.’

‘Will he be all right?’ Arthur whispered.

‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more than I already have. But Jake’s a strong lad – it’s a miracle he survived the night in this weather, and that’s got to be a good sign.’

George nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak.

‘How did it happen?’ Penny asked, dreading the answer.

Toynbee took off his glasses and cleaned them on his cardigan, apparently deliberating whether or not he should say. ‘It appears,’ he replied hesitantly, ‘that Jake climbed to the top of a tree –’

‘And threw himself out,’ Arthur interrupted.

‘Yes!’ Toynbee said, shaken. ‘How did you know?’

‘Just a guess,’ George said quickly.

Penny shot him a look.

‘I’m afraid that young Jake has been having a difficult time at home,’ Toynbee said sadly. ‘His housemaster should have been keeping a closer eye on him.’

‘Jake would never do something like that to himself,’ Penny said angrily.

‘Sometimes it’s difficult to see the warning signs,’ Toynbee said quietly. ‘Unless you know something that I don’t?’

Toynbee peered at them over his spectacles, and they glanced uncertainly at one another.

‘If you do know something, you’d better tell me now. I’m a more sympathetic ear than you might think,’ Toynbee continued, failing to completely mask the urgency in his voice.

‘We don’t know anything, sir,’ George muttered.

Toynbee looked as though he didn’t quite believe them, but decided not to push the matter. ‘All right,’ he said with a sigh.

‘When can we see Jake?’ Penny asked.

‘His mother is with him at the moment. I expect you’ll be able to see him soon. Hopefully in a couple of weeks he’ll be as right as rain,’ Toynbee answered, forcing a smile.

Toynbee turned to leave and shut the door softly behind him. Once his receding footsteps could no longer be heard, Penny turned on George angrily.

‘Why wouldn’t you tell him?’ she cried. ‘This is serious, George. The teachers need to know that it’s not safe here. We need to tell them about the friends.’

‘What? And get carted off to the loony bin like Tristan?’ George said defensively. ‘No thanks! We have to be here at Shiverton if we’re to have any chance of putting an end to this.’

‘Arthur, you tell him!’ Penny implored.

Arthur looked nervously between his two friends and sighed. ‘George is right – they won’t believe us. At the moment, it seems like we’re the only people who have any idea what’s going on. Although how we can help, I’ve got no clue.’

Penny nodded, defeated.

‘Come on, Penny,’ George said softly. ‘It’s dark – let me walk you back to Starling.’

They left the library, and Arthur sat alone, staring at the fire and trying to work out how to fix the mess they’d all got into somehow.

A rap at the window made him start. It was Amber. Arthur rushed over and opened the window. She looked upset.

‘Arthur, I’m so sorry about Jake,’ she blurted out the moment the sash was up. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yeah, I’m OK,’ Arthur said, feeling anything but.

‘I just wanted to come and see you to make sure you’re all right. I sneaked out of prep.’

‘You shouldn’t be walking around alone at night. It’s not safe,’ Arthur said.

Amber laughed. ‘Not safe?’ she said, bemused. ‘Arthur, this isn’t London. I hardly think I’m going to get mugged on my way back to house!’

‘It’s not that,’ Arthur said, not knowing whether to tell her.

‘What is it then?’

Arthur decided not to mention anything – without proof he would sound mental, and that wasn’t quite the impression he wanted to give her.

‘Nothing,’ he said quietly. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Amber was just about to say something when Toynbee re-entered without knocking, and she dived beneath the window sill.

Toynbee looked at Arthur strangely. ‘Who were you talking to, Bannister?’ he asked.

‘Oh . . .’ Arthur mumbled. ‘No one, sir.’

‘Right. Well, I just came to remind you that it’s prep time,’ he said.

‘OK, sir. I’ll go up to my room now,’ Arthur answered.

Toynbee narrowed his eyes, sensing something. He glanced around the library but, finding it empty, he nodded at Arthur and left the room.

Arthur waited until Toynbee had closed the door and then leaned out of the window to find Amber, but she had gone.

Chapter Twelve

The next few weeks were the grimmest and coldest of the year and a freezing, miserable fog hung around Shiverton Hall like bad breath. All of the students had been affected by Jake’s accident; they called it an ‘accident’ because no one dared say what they really thought it could be: that Jake had thrown himself out of the tree deliberately. The whole place seemed quieter, filled with whispers and secrets that hid in the folds of the fog.

Jake hadn’t woken up from his coma, and each day that he didn’t wake compounded the feeling of hopelessness in his friends. They still had no more information, no clues as to what the imaginary friends were or what they wanted. The more they combed the library and went over the facts between themselves, the further away an answer seemed, until one morning, when George appeared at breakfast with a smile for the first time in ages.

‘What are you so cheerful about?’ Penny asked, poking sadly at her fried egg.

‘I just called my grandfather,’ he said smugly.

‘Here we go,’ Arthur sighed.

George put his arms up tetchily. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘If you don’t want to know . . .’

‘We do!’ Penny said, kicking Arthur under the table.

‘OK.’ George grinned, retrieving a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He smoothed it out on the table, peering at his own hastily scrawled writing. ‘So Grandpa did a little investigation regarding the imaginary friends. Once he finally listened to what I was talking about he was tickled pink. He kept on yelling out “FASCINATING” every time I told him something. I think he’s got a new respect for me now. He was always massively disappointed that I’ve never seen anything here; he used to call me “the idiot boy”.’ George beamed, basking in the recollection of his grandfather’s praise.

‘But won’t he tell the school?’ Arthur asked.

‘I doubt it.’ George snorted. ‘He’s far more interested in getting another Shiverton tale for his new book than he is in my welfare!’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Penny said sympathetically.

‘Oh, it is!’ George replied breezily. ‘I think I’d have to be half-eaten by a werewolf before he’d try to put a stop to it. Stories are what he’s after. If Toynbee called him up and pressed him he might spill the beans, but for the moment I reckon he’ll keep our secret.’

‘So what did he say then?’ Arthur asked.

‘Well, Grandpa did a little digging, pulled out some of his old files about Shiverton Hall and the surrounding area, and guess what?’ George couldn’t resist pausing for effect here. ‘This has happened before.’

Penny and Arthur sat up, intrigued.

George cleared his throat. ‘It happened in a little village called Threapleton, about twenty miles away. But it was ages ago. Literally hundreds of years ago. According to local folklore there were phantoms there who used to change into childhood companions, dead siblings, schoolfriends, things like that, in order to gain the trust of their victims. Most of them were harmless, and played pranks and stuff on the villagers. But one year a whole bunch of people died. According to the church records, the cause of death for every one was the same. They were all,’ here George squinted down at his piece of paper and read, ‘
Dryvenne unto madnesse by a fantasm in the lyknesse of a friende
.’

‘How many died?’ Arthur asked reluctantly.

‘Twelve.’

‘Wonderful!’ Arthur muttered.

‘Well, it’s a start,’ George said defiantly.

‘Does your grandfather know how to stop it? What happened before?’ Arthur asked.

‘History doesn’t relate. He’s looking into it.’

‘When was this?’ Arthur asked.

‘1532,’ George replied, consulting his notes.

‘But that was before Shiverton Hall was even built,’ Arthur said. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. How can it have something to do with the curse the witch put on the house?’

George thought for a moment. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? I was wondering why Lola tried to hurt you, Penny. The Shiverton curse doesn’t usually hurt girls.’