The Grey Girl (13 page)

Frankie didn't answer, and I walked over towards her. I stood at her shoulder and looked down at the image she was staring at on her phone. It was an image of the attic room. It was the picture she must have taken standing at the door; you could see the empty room and the window at the end of it.

And next to the window, as clear as anything, was the small figure of a grey girl, looking out on to the world outside.

Frankie and I sat across from each other at the breakfast table and sipped at our coffees in silence. I tried not to wince as I drank mine, envious of how easily Frankie knocked back her sugarless black drink without so much as a frown. However bad the coffee tasted, we both needed it that morning – our eyes were framed by sunken shadows and our skin was pallid from the restless night. Neither of us had said much since the events up in the attic. The girl's spirit, summoned by the Ouija board, and the pictures Frankie took of the girl on her phone spoke for themselves. Both Frankie and I had enough experience of the paranormal to know what was happening. An unspoken understanding hovered between us as we sat at the kitchen table. Dudley Hall was being haunted by the spirit of the grey girl. A spirit that believed it had been cursed.

The kitchen door rattled and Nell came in, carrying heavy bags of food for the weekend. ‘You two are too tired for words,' Nell greeted us, plonking down her bags on the kitchen floor and moving to fill up the kettle.

Frankie cast me a quick look that told me she was about to tell Nell every last detail of what had happened to us the night before. ‘It's hard to get much sleep when –'

‘We've got so much to catch up on,' I finished quickly, kicking Frankie hard under the table.

‘
Ow
,' she mouthed, then, ‘
what?
'

I put my finger to my lips in warning. Now wasn't the right time to tell Nell what we'd seen.

Nell walked over to the table and stood staring down at the two of us, hands on her wide hips. Her golden dangling earrings glinted in the morning sun that streamed through the kitchen windows as she shook her head suspiciously.
‘Secrets, silent, stony, sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned,'
she said dramatically.

‘Who said that?' Frankie asked.

‘James Joyce,' I answered for Nell. ‘And I don't know what you mean,' I continued petulantly. ‘We don't have secrets.'

‘Every girl has secrets.' Nell smiled, walking towards the kettle as it boiled and pulling out a mug from the cupboard.

‘Have you heard crying coming from the attic before, Nell?' Frankie asked, leaning over the kitchen table and staring straight at Nell. Nell poured her tea and stared at Frankie, thoughtfully.

‘Do me a favour, Suzy,' Nell asked, ignoring Frankie's question. ‘Unload some of this shopping for me. I've just realised I've left my crystal ball at home.' Without another word she put down her steaming cup of tea and let herself out, her feet scrunching away from Dudley Hall on the gravel driveway.

‘You need to speak to Nell,' Frankie said urgently. ‘It's obvious she knows something. Talk to her today.'

I nodded my head and took another sip of my cooling coffee. Nell was going to be busy all day cooking and greeting the guests – she'd hardly have a moment spare between crystal-ball readings, tea-making and clearing up. If I was going to speak to her I wanted to do it properly, to sit down and hear the full story – I wasn't sure I'd get that from her at a weekend when the house was full of guests.

Frankie and I sank back into silence and I listened for the popping toaster, but instead the quiet was broken by the sound of a car pulling up in the vast gravel driveway of Dudley Hall.

A few moments later a petite, well-dressed woman with long chestnut hair was standing in the kitchen doorway. I studied her with a cold frown – I knew exactly who she was without being introduced. She looked just like my best friend.

‘Mum, you're early,' Frankie said quietly.

‘I hope you're ready to leave,' her mother replied coldly.

She looked furious, and I didn't envy Frankie her long drive home and the ear-bashing she was bound to get for running away. But in that moment all I really cared about was that Frankie was being taken away from me, and once she left I would be truly alone again. The thought was enough to make me want to cry.

I'd never actually met Frankie's mother before, but in that moment I hated her for taking Frankie away. I didn't even know her name. At boarding school our parents were nothing more than absent players in our dramas, and now Frankie's mother had strolled right onto centre stage to steal away the one ray of hope I had.

‘Frankie, you look tired.' She came towards Frankie and gave her an awkward kiss on the top of her head. ‘Where's your aunt?' she asked me without saying hello or bothering to ask how I was.

‘I haven't seen her this morning,' I replied, looking away and gazing out of the window, trying not to cry.

‘I'd like to speak to her, please,' Frankie's mother said briskly.

I stood up, annoyed. ‘I'll go and find her.'

‘I'll come with you,' Frankie announced, also standing up. ‘I need to get my stuff from upstairs anyway,' she said to her mum.

We left Frankie's mother alone in the kitchen. I didn't bother to offer her a drink; if she wanted something she could get it herself. In fact, she could blend into the wallpaper or swim down the stream to the sea for all I cared.

I ran up the stairs, Frankie following close behind. She tugged on my hand as we reached the second-floor landing. ‘I wish I didn't have to go. Will you promise to keep in touch this time?'

‘Yes,' I said, and I meant it. ‘I wish you didn't have to go too. What about you? Will you be okay? If you need some more time away from home then you can stay here, you know that, don't you? Who cares what your mum says. Aunt Meredith won't mind if you stay.'

Frankie chewed the inside of her lip for a moment in thought. ‘I wish I could stay. But from the look on my mum's face I don't think it'll be up for discussion. And don't worry about me, Suzy. I'll be fine.' She paused. ‘Promise me you won't deal with this alone any more,' she said seriously. ‘Call me if you need to. And talk to someone here if you can. You need to ask Nell and Fiona what they know about the girl. You may as well explain everything to Nate. Better that he knows the truth than thinks you're into breaking and entering. Next time you see him, don't run away. Promise?'

I thought about it for a moment. ‘I promise.'

‘Oh, and, Suzy.' Frankie smiled. ‘Good luck this weekend.'

‘This weekend?'

‘You said your aunt was going to use a story you'd written for the murder mystery party,' Frankie reminded me. ‘I'm sure they'll all love it.' I'd completely forgotten that
The Ghost of Dudley Hall
was getting its premiere this weekend. ‘You get your aunt, I'll get my stuff. I'll see you downstairs in a minute.'

I couldn't find Aunt Meredith in her bedroom or bathroom. I was walking down the corridor towards the stairs when I heard her voice speaking in hushed, gentle tones from Toby's room. I walked towards Toby's door, which stood ajar, and gently pushed it open.

Toby was lying in bed asleep and my aunt was leaning over him, stroking his brow and whispering something. When she saw me she nodded in acknowledgement and gestured silently for me to walk back out into the corridor. Aunt Meredith followed me out and quietly shut Toby's door behind her.

‘Poor Toby's not well,' she said. ‘He's been up all night; he's hardly slept a wink. He won't tell me what's wrong. Do you know what could have upset him?'

I shook my head quickly, summoning up my best acting skills to fool Aunt Meredith into believing me. I couldn't bear the thought of Toby being so petrified by what he'd seen. But I couldn't bear the thought of telling Aunt Meredith that it was all my fault, that he'd followed me up into the attic and watched on as Frankie and I summoned the spirit of the dead girl that haunts Dudley Hall.

‘Frankie's mum's here,' I said, trying to change the subject. ‘She wants to thank you.'

I led Aunt Meredith back downstairs and stood there silently as Frankie's mother thanked her for looking after her wayward daughter for the evening. She opened the kitchen door and made to leave, beginning to push Frankie out onto the driveway without even letting her say goodbye to me.

I lunged forwards and pulled Frankie away from the door and wrapped my arms around her. I hugged her so tightly to me, as if I'd never let her go.

‘Call me later,' Frankie whispered in my ear.

I nodded into her shoulder, not trusting myself to speak without sobbing.

‘You're my best friend,' Frankie reminded me as we pulled away from each other.

I watched with a painful lump in my throat as my best friend was driven away from Dudley Hall, and away from me. I wished I could run after her, I wished my legs could carry me like a speeding bullet away from Dudley Hall, and never come back. I needed to get out of that house. I needed fresh air and daylight. I couldn't bear to be inside a moment longer, I couldn't bear the sight of Aunt Meredith's worried face as my poor cousin lay terrified in his bed.

‘I'm going into the village,' I announced to my aunt, as she was making her way back up the staircase. ‘Do you or Richard need anything?'

‘Oh, I forgot to say, Richard left this morning.' Without saying goodbye, I thought. ‘But no, thank you, Suzy, I don't need anything. And, Suzy,' she added, ‘
The Ghost of Dudley Hall
is brilliant.' She smiled. ‘You've done a wonderful job. I've typed up the character notes and we'll give them out to the guests when they arrive. You should be proud of yourself.'

I smiled weakly at her. It was difficult to feel proud of myself when all I wanted to do was run away. ‘I need to go.'

As soon as my feet scrunched down on the gravel driveway I knew where I needed to go. I hadn't bothered to take a jacket with me, even though the crisp morning air was fresh and cool against my skin. I walked with blind purpose, hoping that each step would take me nearer to the truth. Frankie was right, she usually was. I needed a way to unlock the secrets of the Dudley family. And this was the only way to do it.

As I walked over the village green, towards the Old Rectory, someone in a white T-shirt and jeans caught my eye. ‘Nate!' I shouted out.

He spun around and saw me running towards him; an undisguised look of annoyance quickly spread over his face. I stopped in front of him, near enough to see his hazel eyes dazzling in the sunlight and the short hairs on his arms rise as a fresh breeze blew at us. ‘Nate. I was just coming to speak to you.'

‘Good,' he said, although he didn't sound at all pleased. ‘You going to tell me what you were doing snooping around my house yesterday? And where's your friend today?'

‘Frankie's gone home.' I nodded my head towards the wooden bench on the side of the village green and he reluctantly walked towards it with me. ‘I'm sorry about what you saw yesterday. I know what it must have looked like. But the truth is …' I paused as we sat down, side by side. As the breeze caught us I could smell him. He smelt like deodorant and grass. I looked over at him and was momentarily distracted from what I was about to say. He was watching me eagerly, waiting for my next words as if they were the key to some ancient riddle. ‘The truth is, I wanted to speak to you. And to your mother.'

‘Look,' he said awkwardly. His cheeks flushed slightly and he looked away. ‘If this is about what my mum said the other day about a grey girl then I'm sorry. She's got this thing in her head about my grandmother and …'

‘That's what I wanted to ask her about,' I said quickly. ‘About your grandmother and Dudley Hall, and the people that lived there before us. I want to know what it was like when it was a school. I need to know who lived there, and who died there. I really need to speak to her.'

He leant forwards, resting his tanned forearms on his knees and staring out into the distance in thought. ‘Look, Suzy, my mum's not well. She never really has been. I don't … I don't like people seeing that. I don't want you to see that. The things she says … you can't listen to them. That's why Dad left, he couldn't cope any more.'

Nate wasn't looking at me. He was studying his shoes as they kicked about at the ground. I reached out and put my hand on his arm. He looked down at my hand in shock and then quickly up at me, his eyes meeting mine in surprise. ‘It's okay, Nate,' I said quietly. ‘I'm the last person in the world who would judge anyone about something they believe in. I don't think your mum's crazy. I just really need to speak to her.'

He studied me for a long moment. I could see the conflict in his eyes as he tried to decide if he could trust me or not. The whole time I kept my hand resting on his arm. ‘You can speak to her,' he said eventually. ‘But I need to warn you, when she talks about that kind of stuff you might not get any sense out of her. She might seem a little … strange.'

I smiled. ‘Not to me she won't. Trust me, Nate,' I said, looking into his hazel eyes and making him a promise. ‘I won't ever judge you or your mum.'

‘I like you, Suzy,' he said quietly, holding my gaze, his eyes full of caution. ‘I don't want you thinking …'

‘You can trust me,' I said again, keeping a firm hold on his arm, my fingers tingling with the feel of his skin next to mine.

I felt my hope drain away. But Nate's eyes filled with warmth as he steadily reached out and took my hand in his. ‘I want to,' he said, almost in a whisper. Energy pulsed through my fingertips, up my arm, rushing to my face, making it as red as a beetroot as Nate stood up before pulling me to my feet.

‘Thanks,' I blushed, pulling my hand away from his and smiling.

‘Come on then,' he said, beginning to walk away. ‘Let's go ask my mum about the grey girl.'