Chapter Twelve
‘I saw a mermaid once, out on the rocks.’ Freddy’s voice was sombre in the gloom of the abandoned house.
‘ Our rocks?’ Kira said. ‘For serious?’
‘Yup. I was walking past one evening, and there was this weird light.’
‘Were you drunk?’ Orwell asked. ‘On your way home from the pub?’
Ethan danced his fingers down my jean-clad thigh and leaned into me.
We’d been there a couple of hours, Kira had asked for ghost stories on her birthday, and I was slightly miffed that nobody was buying into the spirit of it, questioning everything like they were seasoned paranormal detectives instead of letting themselves get spooked.
‘What did you see?’ I whispered. ‘Did she sing to you?’
Freddy stuttered out a laugh. ‘Nah, no singing or anything. But the light was, like, a strange blue-green colour – not like a boat’s lamp – and there was this silhouette, someone sitting up there as the sun was fading.’
‘That sounds so scary,’ I said, and was glad when the others stayed quiet, nobody poo-pooing it. ‘It sounds like you definitely saw something .’
‘And what have you seen?’ Orwell turned towards us. ‘I bet Ethan doesn’t believe in ghosts and ghoulies.’
‘I do, actually,’ he said calmly. ‘I saw one, not that long ago.’
I glanced at him, glad that he was joining in, and saw that he was worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘What did you see?’ I threaded my fingers through his.
‘Was it in Cornwall?’ Kira handed the bottle of vodka to Orwell. Despite all our bluster about being reckless, we’d been sipping slowly, and I got the sense that we all wanted to stay alert, in case unexpected torch beams swung over the windows or the flash of blue lights pulsed outside.
‘It was in York,’ Ethan said. ‘We lived there for a couple of years – we move around a lot for my dad’s job.
’ He swallowed. ‘I saw this hunched-over figure in an alleyway. We’d gone out for dinner and Mum and Dad had stopped to look in a shop window on the way back.
Sarah was dawdling, and I was ahead. It wasn’t quite dark, but the alley was gloomy, and I got a weird vibe from this guy.
He was slouching, dragging his feet, and his clothes were filthy.
I noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes, and I thought he must be homeless.
I glanced behind me to check the others were following, and when I looked back he was gone, and so was the oppressive feeling. ’
‘Woah,’ Freddy murmured.
‘So he reached the end of the alley.’ Kira shrugged, but her voice was wavering.
Ethan shook his head. ‘There was no way. He wasn’t that far along it, and he couldn’t have reached the end in the time I looked away.’
‘God.’ A tingle ran up my spine. I’d been about to launch into a made-up story about the Knockers that haunted the mines along the coastline, but Ethan’s was so much better. ‘The alley would have been bad enough on its own, but then … that .’
‘Oh God, yeah,’ Kira said. ‘You don’t like being in small spaces.’
‘Who does?’ I asked.
‘That time Ferris shut you in the stationery cupboard at school.’ Orwell snorted. ‘You went nuts! He was such a shit.’
‘Why are you laughing then?’ I crossed my arms.
‘Someone shut you in a cupboard?’ Ethan’s eyes were on mine; I could see the gleam of torchlight in his pupils.
‘Just a stupid joke from our year’s stupid joker,’ I said. ‘It was before sixth form.’
‘What happened?’
I reached for some crisps, not wanting to tell him.
‘She had a panic attack,’ Kira said. ‘I was trying to get Ferris to open the cupboard – for some reason there was a key, and he’d locked the door and pocketed it.’
‘It was pitch-black,’ I said hotly. ‘Tiny and dusty and … when it’s that dark, and you can’t get out, you imagine all sorts of things are in there with you.’
‘It sounds horrible.’ Ethan put his arm around me, bringing me close to him. ‘Being trapped, no matter where it is, is one of the worst feelings.’ He spoke into my hair, his lips brushing my head like feathery kisses. ‘Have you had a lot of panic attacks?’
‘It was a one-off, thankfully.’ I didn’t add that I sometimes felt that tightness at home, the slight shadowing at the edges of my vision when things went wrong with Mum, when she seemed really unwell or, conversely, when she was at her brightest and most challenging.
The twin pressures of losing her and being stuck with her long after school ended competed for awfulness in my thoughts.
‘We can’t get trapped in here, at least,’ Kira said.
‘Unless that window jams,’ Orwell pointed out. ‘Or something’s blocked our exit.’
‘A particularly possessive rat with opposable thumbs?’ Freddy raised an eyebrow.
‘Imagine if there’s something lurking in here, waiting to pounce,’ Ethan said, and I got the impression he was genuinely worried, not trying to add to the scares.
I squeezed his hand. ‘If there’s anyone lurking here, it’s the characters from the Cornish Sands series, the Rosevar family going about their days – and we just can’t see them. Perhaps all the little creaks, the rustling sounds, are them. They’re probably wondering what we’re doing here.’
‘OK, dude, was that supposed to be comforting?’ Freddy asked. ‘Because you missed the mark.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, but I wasn’t really. I loved imagining the characters existing outside of the books – those gorgeous love stories that were hard won but so worth it, the glamorous parties in the breathtaking clifftop gardens.
They weren’t real, but they were people I’d come to care about, living and loving and dying in the house we were sitting in.
‘It’s just … if I ever get to be a writer, I want my books to make people feel all the emotions that series makes me feel. ’
‘You’re going to be a writer?’ Ethan asked. ‘You’ve never said.’
‘Not going to be. I want to be.’
‘If you want to be one, then you will be. You can do whatever you decide, Georgie.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, but inside I was unfurling, a flower blooming at his belief in me. I snuggled against him. ‘Thank you, though.’
‘Who’s your favourite?’ Kira asked. ‘Not that I’ve read any of them.’
‘Amelie and Connor,’ I said. ‘They’re the couple in the last book, and I thought they’d get their happy-ever-after like the other heroines and heroes, but Connor went to America and left Amelie behind.
Sometimes I imagine them reuniting here.
Although,’ I added with a laugh, ‘that’s going to be harder now I’ve seen inside.
It’s not exactly a luxury mansion any more. ’
‘It might be again one day,’ Ethan said. ‘A place this grand can’t stand empty for ever.’
I closed my eyes, imagining a future for Tyller Klos, and that’s when I heard it: a sound behind me, in the shadows. I must have invented it, but every hair on my body prickled to attention.
‘What is it?’ Ethan squeezed my shoulder. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah,’ I said shakily. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You look like you’ve seen something horrible.’ Kira was peering at me.
‘Not seen.’ I burrowed into Ethan’s side, wishing he was between me and the black void of the hall. ‘I thought I heard something.’
‘Something more than our furry friends?’ Orwell asked.
‘I don’t know, but … it sounded like someone laughing. Or sobbing.’ I swallowed. ‘It was hard to tell.’
‘No fucking way.’ Freddy sounded horrified.
‘It was my ears playing tricks on me,’ I said quickly, sensing my fear travel round the room. ‘It can’t have happened.’
‘It can’t,’ Orwell confirmed.
‘But maybe …’ Ethan glanced at his watch, using his torch to illuminate the face. ‘It’s ten to midnight. I think we can safely say we’ve spent enough time here.’
I expected a protest from Kira, saying her birthday wasn’t over, but everyone took Ethan’s words as an instruction.
We retrieved our empty bottles and cans – because we were hardcore teenagers but we weren’t litterers – and shoved full ones into pockets and bags.
Then we made our way wordlessly through the house, retracing our steps, my gaze fixed firmly on Freddy’s legs in front of me, and not on those dark hollows where I thought the strange sounds had come from.
Once we were back on the solid tarmac of the road, relief pulsed in my veins. The moon was higher now, its silver sheen coating everything, so we didn’t need our torches to light the way back into the village.
It was against the steady echoes of our footsteps that a shrill mobile blared. We all stopped, taking out our phones, but it was Ethan who slipped his fingers away from mine to answer.
‘Hello?’ He frowned. There was a pause and he said, ‘No, I haven’t seen her all evening.
’ Another gap, then, ‘I’m out with friends.
I haven’t seen her since after school, and …
’ His jaw clenched as the other person spoke.
‘What party? I don’t know anything about …
I’m on my way home now. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
’ He hung up and jammed his mobile in his pocket.
‘OK?’ I said.
He shook his head tightly. ‘Sarah’s gone AWOL.’
‘That was your mum?’ Kira asked.
‘Dad,’ Ethan said miserably. ‘He’s going apeshit. Sarah was supposed to be grounded, but she snuck out and apparently there’s this wild party, so we have to go and get her.’
I squeezed his hand. ‘Why you?’
‘I’m her big brother.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s my job to keep her out of trouble, and I’m failing.’
‘It’s not your job.’ I was indignant. ‘It’s theirs, surely? Your mum and dad’s.’
‘Try telling Dad that,’ he said quietly, and the last glimmers of triumph I’d had, from breaking into an abandoned house with my friends, from being so close to Ethan all night, faded as we made our way solemnly into Alperwick.
Ethan was tense and silent beside me, his hand gripping mine a little too tightly.