The Hunting Ground (12 page)

Eve had surprised her and Cullayn by asking for permission to deal with Elliott herself. She wanted to do it alone. ‘A game, Daddy, a game. I won’t mess up. I won’t! It’ll be fun!’ She’d hopped and buzzed around Cullayn like a dragonfly until he agreed.

Cullayn had pretended to object, but Janey had seen how secretly pleased he was that Eve was taking the lead. She was his undisclosed weapon, his little huntress in the making. Cullayn had high plans for Eve. He
could have swallowed her soul when she died, taken all that energy in one great satisfying gulp, but he’d kept her close instead. Made her an ally in his hunting plans. Tutored her.

No fun if it’s too easy when it comes to Elliott, he’d chided her. Surprise me.

Tucking the pneumatic screwdriver back into its plastic container now, Janey left the Glebe House estate. On her way back to the village she glanced up. A night hawk was in a sycamore tree, preening itself after a kill. With a flick of its tail it headed towards the hunting ground. Janey turned to follow it, her eyes coming to rest on the slope and the trees. Their leafy tops swayed in a mild breeze, brightened by moon-gleam and stars.

Only Elliott left now, she thought. One more child to fish out.

Eve didn’t need her help any more. The little girl was determined to do it all herself. She had already instructed Ben on what to do tomorrow. He’d remember his part in the morning. Eve was the fisherman now, Ben her shiny lure. Janey wondered what plan the two of them would hatch. It wouldn’t be straightforward getting Elliott back inside the East Wing. But then again, if Cullayn had taught the imaginative Eve one thing, it was how to turn everything into a game.

Elliott couldn’t remember falling asleep, and woke next morning from a night of troubled dreams. By contrast, Ben seemed refreshed. Up bright and early to the bathroom he was, washing his face and brushing his teeth until they gleamed. His tiredness was gone. Even his bruise looked less angry.

‘I’m starving,’ he announced at breakfast, tucking in.

While he ate he chatted perkily about Eve the ghost. He didn’t seem to mind sharing a house with her after all. Elliott and Dad had little appetite, but Ben savoured his food. He looked so genuinely unconcerned to be in the house that Dad nearly revised his decision to leave today. Had his judgment been overhasty? No, he decided. We’re leaving anyway. He reminded them of the departure time: twelve noon. By then he’d have the razor-wire back over the main gates and the external alarms set. Heading off into the grounds, he left clear instructions with Elliott to remain with Ben at all times and to stay away from the East Wing.

No need to tell Elliott that, of course. He had zero plans to go anywhere near it.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ he said, when he and Ben were back in his bedroom.

Ben was whistling as he put his toothbrush and a couple of shirts into a carry-all. He took his time folding his pyjamas. ‘It’s OK. We’re going. I get it,’ he said. ‘I’m not happy – I think it’s wrong to leave Eve here – but, well, there’s nothing I can do about it, is there, so …’ He shrugged.

‘What’s that?’ Elliott said. He’d seen something white poking from Ben’s pyjama top – a creased sheet of paper.

‘Dunno,’ Ben said. He removed the sheet, unfolded it. ‘Oh, wow!’ With open-mouthed excitement he handed it to Elliott.

The sketch showed a large doll’s house. The front of the house had been removed to show five partitioned floors with twelve rooms. Each room was filled with dolls. In front of the doll’s house stood Eve. She was holding out a hand in a hopeful way towards a boy standing to her left. The boy was Elliott. On the other side of her, already holding Eve’s hand in the sketch, was Ben. The three of them formed a little human daisy-chain. It was a happy-looking picture. A girl with her friends.

Elliott stared at the sketch. ‘Me and you and her,’ he whispered.

‘And a doll’s house,’ Ben added breathlessly. ‘Didn’t you say there was a doll’s house in the attic?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘But what?’ Ben cried. ‘That’s it! That’s what she’s telling us! She
does
want to play! I told you! Come on!’

Before Elliott could stop him, Ben was on his way out of the room.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ Elliott ran hard after him, but Ben had always been fast, and Elliott only caught up with him on the fifth floor.

The ladder to the attic was inexplicably lowered. Elliott wondered if Dad had been fetching stuff from inside. Ben was already clambering back down the steps, a huge box balanced in his arms.

‘See! This is what she wants!’ he said. ‘She must have come in during the night and put the sketch in my pocket to let me know. She came in when we were asleep, Elliott. She
could
have hurt us, but she didn’t. I told you she wasn’t dangerous. She only wanted to ask us for help, so she could play with this …’ Ben studied the box, turning it over. ‘It must be too hard for her to fix up on her own,’ he said. ‘Before we go we have to set it up. Come on!’

‘Ben—’

‘No, stop arguing! It won’t take long if we do it together,’ Ben growled. ‘What’s the matter with you? At least this way she has something to play with after we abandon her.’

Elliott hesitated. He had grave doubts about Eve, but what was the harm in erecting the doll’s house? They were already packed to go. It would give Ben something to concentrate on for an hour or so until Dad was ready.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘But that’s all we’re doing. We’ll put it up and then leave it here, OK?’

Ben smiled. ‘OK.’

It was a Victorian doll’s house. Lovingly packaged, the contents were still wrapped in all their original cardboard boxes. Elliott read the fancy label.
A magnificent home, dignified and grand. A home to delight and grace the play of every girl.

Ben tapped the box happily. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘She’s going to love this.’

It took a few minutes to unwrap all the pieces of wood for the structure. Ben laid them out, while Elliott did most of the assembly. Once the roof was ready, they both stood back to assess what they’d built.

‘Wow,’ Elliott said, genuinely awed by the doll’s house’s unexpected size.

With the chimney fitted it was over three feet high and two deep. Inside were twelve lavishly furnished rooms. Some of them had textured carpets and pasted-on wallpaper. Surprisingly realistic paper-flames licked the fire-grate in the living room.

‘Ha! Check this out!’ Ben laughed. He’d found a tiny
toilet with a hinged wooden seat. He waggled it up and down. ‘I don’t suppose this gets used a lot by the dolls.’

‘I guess not.’

The dolls themselves were amazingly life-like. Elliott had expected shiny Cinderella-types. These figurines were much more impressive than that. Crafted out of wood, they were all unique. Each had been individually painted with flesh-tones for the skin, brighter colours for the clothes. There were dolls of boys and girls, but surprisingly most of the figures were men and women, variously dressed. One red-headed woman had been sculpted with a pleated cotton skirt. Something must have gone wrong with the creamy paint used on her skin, though, because it was dark, pitted and flaking.

‘You think Eve’ll like these?’ Elliott asked dubiously, examining them.

‘Oh yeah,’ Ben said. ‘I think she’ll like them all.’

Elliott watched as Ben unwrapped items of furniture and placed them in the appropriate rooms. Deeply absorbed, he finished doing that and then grabbed hold of two dolls, unselfconsciously waggling them around.

‘Happy now?’ Elliott asked. He couldn’t help smiling.

‘Yeah,’ Ben said, giving him a sheepish grin. ‘I suppose we’re done here. I’m hungry. You?’

‘Sure. Let’s see what’s left in the kitchen.’

Making their way downstairs, they found a bag of
cheese rolls Dad had prepared for the journey, and took a couple.

Dad popped in to check they were OK while they ate. ‘We’re going in less than an hour,’ he told them. ‘Make sure you’re ready.’

They both nodded.

A few minutes later, Ben gave Elliott an eager look. ‘C’mon, let’s just check,’ he said.

‘Check what?’

‘If she’s playing with the doll’s house, stupid.’

‘Ben—’

With a hoot, Ben sprang up from his chair, laughing as he beat Elliott to the door. He sprinted up the first staircase.

‘Ben, for God’s sake!’ Elliott yelled, but his brother’s laughter just rolled back to him from above.

By the time Elliott reached the fifth floor he was out of breath. The doll’s house stood exactly where they’d left it in the corridor.

‘See?’ Elliott said, annoyed. ‘She hasn’t found it yet. Come on. That’s enough. Let’s go.’

‘She
has
found it,’ Ben whispered. ‘Look. The dolls have been moved.’

At first Elliott couldn’t see what Ben meant. Then he noticed a straggly blonde-haired doll lying face down at the bottom of some steps.

‘
A is for Alice, who fell down the stairs
,’ Ben murmured.
‘Remember the verse? We didn’t leave her like that.’

Elliott felt his pulse race as he reached for the doll of a young boy. With a bright blue cape draped across his shoulders, the boy lay face-down in a posture of exhaustion.

‘
L is for Leo, who gave his all
,’ Ben whispered. ‘Remember him? Remember what he was wearing when Cullayn sent him up the slope?’

Elliott spotted the red-headed doll with the flaking skin. Her head had been rammed up against the paper-flames of the fireplace.

‘
S is for Sandra, burning bright
,’ Ben said.

Elliott’s nerves twitched. ‘How come you remember the rhymes so well?’

Ben shrugged. ‘Catchy, I guess. Hold on. What’s this?’

A hole, filled with water, had been dug into the grounds of the house. The figure of a man, trying to claw his way out, was arranged inside.

‘
O is for Oliver, who splashed till he sank,
’ Ben muttered.

‘I don’t remember that verse,’ Elliott said.

Several dolls were in bizarre places. Elliott didn’t want to look too closely, though he sensed they all related to the rhymes. Which meant, of course, that Eve almost certainly
had
played with the doll’s house before. And then Elliott realised it was worse than that. These dolls didn’t belong to the original doll’s house at all. Eve
must have made them herself. Must have whittled away endlessly at the wood and painted them by hand. And where had she got the descriptions of the dead people from? Only one man knew those details. He must have been perched on her shoulder for hours to achieve individual likenesses like this …

With terror rising inside him, Elliott whispered, ‘Let’s go.’

Ben didn’t resist when Elliott grabbed his arm, but only because there was no need.

A shadow had spread across the wall behind him.

Eve stood inside that shadow. As straight and still as one of the dolls, she was waiting at the end of the corridor, utterly calm.

Disregarding Elliott, she came swiftly forward. Her eyes were glued to the doll’s house. ‘You stay here,’ she ordered Katerina, unceremoniously dumping her on the floor. Then she changed her mind, picked Katerina up again, and offered her head-first to Elliott. ‘To play with,’ she explained, when he didn’t immediately understand. ‘Don’t you want to play?’

She grinned, and so did Ben.

While Elliott tried to come up with some kind of reply, Ben said smoothly, ‘I’ll play,’ lifted Katerina and rocked her like a baby in his arms.

‘Not like that,’ Eve giggled, suddenly very girl-like,
amused at the overly precious way Ben was carrying Katerina.

‘Do you like the house we built?’ he asked. ‘We made it especially for you.’

‘Ben, we need to get out of here,’ Elliott said.

Ben ignored him.

Eve circled the doll’s house a few times, glowing with happiness. With great care she reached out towards the roof. ‘May I?’ she asked, and Elliott realised that she was asking for permission to touch it. Was that amusement in her voice?

When Ben smiled and nodded, Eve fetched up a man-doll with frizzy black hair and made
clop-clop
noises. ‘G is for Guy, crushed under a horse,’ she said. She stroked the pale white limbs of a woman. ‘J is for Jane, now ageless and white, and also …’ she threw another doll hard against the nearest wall ‘… for Jack at the end of his fight.’

Standing on her tiptoes, Eve placed a tall man on the roof, then spilled him off. ‘K is for blah, blah, blah, blah, blah …’ Laughing, she snatched Katerina back from Ben, walking her stiff plastic legs robotically towards the doll’s house.

Elliott tugged at Ben’s arm. He whispered to
just come
.

Ben resisted, hissed back, ‘Not yet. We can find out
things. Stay a minute.’ He pulled away from Elliott. ‘And who are you?’ he asked Katerina, touching her plastic cheek. ‘A friend?’

Eve nodded vehemently, twisting Katerina’s face this way and that.

Elliott tried to work out if he could drag Ben down the stairs. It wouldn’t be easy if Ben resisted.