The Hunting Ground (10 page)

‘It’s Sam,’ Janey told me, when I asked her about it.

‘You cut it, didn’t you?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Sam told me to. He doesn’t want people to see the look of fear on his face. That’s what
Cullayn
wants.’

5th December. After all the scariness of the last few weeks, today was different. Janey came hopping into the garden as excited as a puppy. She was dying to show me something.

‘Come here,’ she said, laughing as she dragged me to the entrance of the East Wing. ‘Watch. A trick the ghost children showed me.’

Lifting her left hand, she slowly splayed her fingers. For a moment nothing happened. Then the air spluttered and crackled around her fingertips. ‘Keep watching,’ she said. ‘That’s not it.’ Steadying herself, holding her arm away from her body, she reached forward and thrust two fingers inside the East Wing.

As soon as they pierced the stale, dry air there was a faint apricot gleam. ‘See?’ she said. ‘I’m finding a way in. Cullayn’s hiding in the dark of the East Wing. No torch is going to find him the way he cloaks himself. But this’ – she
clicked
her fingers,
and with each click the light expanded – ‘gets into his corners, shows me where he is.’

Her hand stirred the air like a spoon. ‘Cullayn’s not like us,’ she said. ‘He can dissolve himself, slip like dust into the pores of walls. Or do the opposite, make a solid form, like a fist.’ She laughed, made a fist of her own and spread her fingers to swirl the air. Then she grunted ‘Ouch!’ as her apricot light was abruptly snuffed out.

She yanked her hand back. ‘Mm,’ she mused. ‘Cullayn doesn’t like me invading his little kingdom. Good. I don’t care. I’m going after him. Someone has to.’

‘What are you thinking of doing?’ I asked.

‘I’m not sure yet. But what do you reckon to this?’ She gave me a mischievous smile. ‘Alice taught me this trick. I can use it to stop Cullayn, or at least slow him down if I get close enough.’

Janey swung her wrist lazily back and forth inside the East Wing. She looked like she was casually summoning a servant. ‘I’m fishing,’ she said, grinning. ‘Casting a line. Let’s see what’s there, shall we? See if we can attract his attention …’

At first nothing happened. But Janey kept at it, flicking her fingertips until her wrist suddenly jolted.

‘Whoa!’ she said, and I could see she was surprised. ‘I guess I hooked something!’

‘Hey,’ I said, concerned for her.

‘It’s all right,’ she told me. But her eyes widened as she tried to withdraw her hand and found she couldn’t.

‘Janey,’ I said, moving closer to her. ‘Tell me how to help.’

‘It’s OK,’ she answered testily. ‘I’m fine. If I can just get my hand out again …’ She grinned fiercely. ‘It’s Cullayn himself, casting his
own
net,’ she said. ‘If I just keep doing this, I’ll be … I’m sure I’ll be OK …’

I think Janey was trying to impress me with a show of bravery, but of course Cullayn didn’t care about that. And while she kept tugging, pushing out her slim fingers, gripping and ungripping, the owner of Glebe House reached out for her. It was terrifying what I saw next, and not only because it was the first time I’d seen Cullayn, but because it happened so
fast
.

A gap came first. It flashed open in the air between Janey’s shoulder and her uplifted arm. Then, from the rip of air, a thickly-haired male forearm tore itself from some kind of no-space between the realms of life and death. The owner seized Janey’s arm. Two shades of light sparked,
competing: Janey’s apricot hue, and Cullayn’s dark orange-red light. Where they crossed the light curdled into a dirty yellow, but Cullayn’s light was stronger, and so was his grip, and he started to draw Janey inside.

Janey fought him. She didn’t really know what she was doing, I could see that, but for a moment her sheer determination to stand her ground against Cullayn kept him back: her considerable will opposing his.

But it wasn’t enough, and only two things enabled her to break away. First, I threw myself into her, knocking her down. Second – and I think this was more important – another light appeared, a blaze of blue, and I heard a gruff man’s voice bellow in pain as the blueness stabbed into Cullayn’s wrist, making him let go. For a moment the face of a boy – Sam’s face – appeared in that fog of blue, and he was looking not at me but at Janey.

‘I know, I know,’ Janey muttered to Sam from the floor. ‘I need to be more careful. Yes, yes. I know!’

Muttering to herself, she led me back into the garden, holding her wrist. ‘I’m OK,’ she said, when I tried to look at it.

‘You’re not OK,’ I told her. ‘Cullayn was dragging
you into the East Wing! If Sam and I hadn’t been there …’

‘It wasn’t … quite what I expected,’ she admitted, cursing under her breath. ‘I’ll be more careful in future. But what you don’t understand is that if I go in the East Wing I won’t be alone. You saw the way Sam follows me everywhere. The ghost children just need a bit of a push. I’m sure they’ll follow me inside if I go after Cullayn. And against all of us I don’t think he stands a chance.’ She smiled tensely. ‘He’s only one to our five, Theo. And then, once he’s gone … well, something wonderful might happen.’

‘What do you mean, wonderful?’

She folded her arms under her chest. ‘The ghost children will be able to leave. They’re only staying here because of Cullayn. They won’t leave until he does. That’s my dream – to help them reach the other side. If I can get rid of Cullayn, they’ll be free to go at last.’

Ever since then Janey has been practising in private for her battle with Cullayn. She won’t tell me what she’s planning. She says Cullayn may be listening. But in truth I don’t think Janey knows herself. She’s determined to go through with it, though. I don’t know whether to try to stop her or not. She already looks tired.

‘That’s what Sam says,’ she admitted. ‘He says I’m not ready to face Cullayn. But don’t worry, I won’t do anything until I’m prepared.’ Her chin hardened. ‘Until my will matches his.’

‘I’ve found her!’ Dad cried, striding into Ben’s bedroom. ‘Her full name is Jane Amanda Roberts and she lives locally.’

‘She still lives here?’ Ben said.

‘Yep.’ Dad looked pleased with himself. ‘In the village itself. Very active in the community, apparently. I couldn’t find anyone with a bad word to say about her. And that impression was confirmed when we talked on the phone.’

Elliott gazed up. ‘You spoke to her?’

‘Surprised, eh? She’s ever so quietly spoken. Tiny little voice. Had a neighbour over when I called. Gladys. They were having tea and cakes. Lots of clinking china.’ When Elliott looked doubtful, Dad said, ‘I know. Doesn’t sound much like the girl in Theo’s story, eh? But maybe that’s because she isn’t. She explained the mystery. Says the diary was something she and Theo made up. An elaborate hoax.’

‘You believe her?’ Elliott asked.

Dad shrugged. ‘She was convincing enough. She’d forgotten about the past disappearances in Glebe House, though. Couldn’t remember the name of the little girl who used to live here. Said her memory was like a sieve these days.’

Elliott’s openly contemptuous expression made Dad raise an eyebrow.

‘You think she’s lying?’

‘Make up your own mind,’ Elliott said. ‘Read this.’

He handed over the latest fragments of the diary. Dad read them slowly all the way through.

‘Still believe it’s a hoax?’ Elliott asked.

Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his confidence dented. ‘I’ll admit it’s described in more detail than I’d expect. But look, Elliott …’ He hesitated, shook his head. ‘If this diary
is
real you’re asking me to swallow a whole lot more than the fact that Jane Roberts is lying. There’s all this other stuff about ghosts and, frankly … it might help if I could come up with a single reason why a lady who’s been living quietly in the village all this time would lie.’

‘Unless she had something to do with it,’ Elliott said. ‘Unless she was part of the reason Eve disappeared.’

‘The elderly woman I talked to didn’t sound dangerous.’

‘She was younger then, Dad. Plenty strong enough to deal with a seven-year-old girl.’

‘But there’s nothing in the diary to suggest it, either,’ Dad argued. ‘If the diary means anything, it’s obvious she was trying to
protect
Theo and Eve, not harm them.’

‘Maybe things changed,’ Elliott said. He didn’t even know what he meant by that. He was just reaching out blindly. But the image of Janey as a forgetful tea-and-china-cups lady didn’t ring true. He turned to Ben. ‘What do you think?’

‘What?’ Ben shook himself. He’d been staring blankly at the wall all this time.

‘You OK?’ Dad asked him.

‘I’m fine.’ Ben smiled, gazed out of the window and back again. He had nothing to add. No opinion on events. Or Janey. Or anything.

Elliott looked at him a moment, then said to Dad, ‘What about Glebe House? Did you find out any more details about what happened here?’

‘Yes. Some.’ Dad wavered. ‘I’m really sorry to have to tell you both this, but … children did go missing here around Theo’s time. Two of them.’

‘Two?’ Elliott glanced up, his pulse rising.

‘I know,’ Dad said quietly. ‘I didn’t expect that, either. Not the news any of us wanted to hear. But I didn’t only get that from Janey. I rang the post office and the woman who runs it confirmed the children’s names: Eve Stark and her brother, Theo.’

Elliott felt like he’d been struck in the face.

‘I guess that’s the tragedy the current owners didn’t want to talk about,’ Dad murmured. ‘Children disappearing.’

‘I think Janey’s lying,’ Elliott said. ‘I think the diary is the truth and that she knows exactly what happened.’

‘Maybe,’ Dad conceded. ‘In any case, I’m not spending any more time here figuring it out. We’re leaving tomorrow.’

Ben, for the first time, spluttered into life. ‘But why?’ he piped up. ‘I’m getting used to it here. It’s OK. It’s fine. I want to stay.’

A cold feeling crept through Elliott. ‘When did you start liking it here?’

‘I didn’t say I liked it,’ Ben protested. ‘It’s just that we can’t leave. We need the money, and—’

‘We don’t need the money that much,’ Dad cut him off. He gave Elliott a curious look, then faced Ben. ‘Let me worry about things like money, all right? We’re getting out. I’m sealing the house back up. Then we’re off.’

‘But what about Eve?’ Ben protested, throwing up his arms. ‘We’ll be leaving her alone here …’

Elliott watched him closely. So did Dad.

‘Eve won’t be forgotten about,’ Dad said after a long pause. ‘On the way back I’ll hand the diary to the police.’

Ben gave a grunt of frustration, kicking the wall.

‘It’s not fair on Eve!’ he yelled. ‘It’s not! She’s been
in the house all this time on her own. We’re the first people here in ages, and now … now we’re leaving her all alone again.’ He was breathing hard. ‘Who knows how long it’ll be before anybody else comes? She’ll be stuck with nothing to do. I know she’s only a ghost but we can’t just leave her here on her own, Dad. We can’t!’

Elliott said quietly, ‘It’s interesting that you’re not scared of Eve any more, Ben. A few hours ago you were terrified of her. What’s changed?’

Ben started to reply, then fell silent, as if anything he said would incriminate him.

After giving Ben another measured look, Dad said, ‘I’ll contact Eve’s surviving family. If she’s here somewhere they can decide what to do. But we’re definitely not staying. I want both of you packed and ready to leave by twelve o’clock tomorrow, no later.’

Ben protested a little more, but Dad refused to budge, and afterwards he drew Elliott aside. ‘I’m going to sleep in the room next to yours tonight,’ he told him. ‘What shall we do with Ben?’

‘Make him stay in my room, where I can keep an eye on him.’

‘Agreed,’ Dad said.

Ben tried to squirm out of staying with Elliott that night. He kept saying that he was OK, felt fine, wasn’t
scared, didn’t understand what was wrong with everyone. The more Elliott heard, the more convinced he became that Ben was being influenced in some way by the house.

They had a bite to eat with Dad around eight p.m. After that, Ben, still arguing, reluctantly brought a mattress and blankets into Elliott’s room from his own bedroom.

Dad set up in the room next door. Earlier, he’d paid special attention to securing the East Wing. Its entrance had been resealed in a way no one could dismantle without specialist tools, whatever patience they might have for the task.

Just after eleven o’clock, with Ben’s agreement, Elliott switched off all the lights in the bedroom. Inevitably, as soon as he dropped his head back on his pillow, Elliott started listening for noises in the corridor outside. It was impossible not to.