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  Excitement bubbles up in my chest because for the first time since I found out we were moving, I feel that I could actually like it here.

  9

  DANNY

  I knock on Heather’s door. Jules said to give her some space. Jules said that when Heather was ready she would come find me and ask me to play, but it’s been two days and I’m so bored. Gemma says she’ll play water fights with me in the garden after she helps mum move the furniture and get the downstairs sorted. She told me to go amuse myself.

  I played cars for a while and then I did some colouring in my Spiderman book. I love Spiderman ‘cos he’s funny and cool and he can shoot webs from his hands and he saves the good guys and gets to hang upside down. Mum says she’ll get me a Spiderman costume for my birthday, which is in three weeks. I can’t wait.

  I want to talk to Heather about our birthday and get all excited about it, so I pretend to forget what Jules said and go find Heather.

  She doesn’t answer her door, so I push it open and go in but she’s not there.

  I decide that she’s playing hide and seek with me, and Buster and I go searching. She’s not hiding very well. I find her on my third try in the smelly room. Mum says it doesn’t smell. It’s just musty. She opened the windows and stuff, but it still smells. It reminds me of the time mum gave me an apple in my pack lunch and I forgot it in my bag all half-term and when I went to pack my bag for school it was a squished and a funny colour and it smelled really bad.

  The room smells like a squished apple.

  Anyway, Heather is standing in the smelly room by the big wardrobe. The door is open and it blocks the side of her face. I can only see her back half.

  I stand real still because she doesn’t know I’m there and she’s talking to someone.

  “Why? He’s not a princess. Why does he have to play with us?”

  I want to laugh at her for talking to herself, but I talk to Buster all the time and she never laughs at me. Maybe she’s found her own Buster, but then I hear another voice. I can’t understand what it is saying, but it makes me want to wee myself. I can’t help it. I make a sound and the voice stops. Heather is very still and then she steps back and turns to me with a smile.

  “Hi, Danny. You want to meet my friend?”

  This is bad, this is really bad, because Buster don’t talk back and I know whatever is in that cupboard is not a Buster, it’s something horrible and scary and I want to grab Heather and make her run. But I am too scared to go into the room and too scared to run.

  Heather holds out her hand. She is smiling, but her eyes are angry. She doesn’t really want me to go into the room, not because she’s scared, but because she doesn’t want to share. Heather always was a bad sharer.

  I shake my head.

  The voice comes again and it is so horrible that it un-sticks my feet from the ground. I turn and run.

  10

  GEMMA

  I’m doing the daughterly thing and helping sort the living room out. There is so much stuff and everything is wrapped in newspaper, bubble wrap, or both. I didn’t realise how many ornaments and knick knacks we had; that and the photos and albums. Mum and her pictures.

  I unwrap a tightly wrapped item and hold it up. Ah, the emerald-green vase. It always reminds me of the Emerald City in Oz, in particular the scene in Return to Oz where the Goblin King forces Dorothy to play a game, to choose from an array of enchanted objects to free her friends. She figures out the objects that are her friends will be green. I used to imagine the vase was such an object. I’ve lost count of the times I played Dorothy, holding the vase and shouting “OZ!”

  The pounding of feet down the stairs momentarily distracts me and Danny barrels in almost, knocking me off my feet. I drop the vase I’m holding and it smashes on the floor.

  “Dammit, Gemma!” Mum glowers at me, but I don’t care because there’s something wrong with Danny. He’s shaking like a leaf. I pick him up and his bottom is warm and wet. I lock eyes with Jules across the room.

  “What? What’s wrong, Danny?” Mum’s anger evaporates and she moves close to place a hand on his back. “Honey, you’re shaking. What happened?”

  “We were playing and he got scared.” Heather’s standing in the doorway. “You dropped this, Danny.” She holds up Buster, wiggling him in the air tauntingly.

  Danny buries his face further into my shoulder.

  Jules takes Buster and passes it to Danny. “Danny, you want to tell me what happened?”

  “I told you. We were playing and he got scared,” Heather says.

  “Why don’t we let Danny speak?” There’s an edge to Jules’s voice.

  I rub the back of Danny’s head. “Danny? You want to show me what scared you?”

  He shakes his head vehemently.

  Mum sighs in exasperation and glances about the half-finished room. She has no patience for this kind of thing.

  “I’ll get Danny cleaned up.” I move past Heather, who turns to follow.

  “Heather? Why don’t you stay and help us?” Jules suggests.

  “But I want to make Danny feel better,” Heather says, looking up at me with her big brown eyes. I usually melt at that look, but there is something sly in those eyes, something that makes me want to push her away.

  “I think Danny might need some time to get cleaned up, Hev. Go help mummy.”

  Something flashes in her eyes, it looks suspiciously like anger, but I turn away, ignoring the spike of adrenaline. I hold Danny close and climb the stairs.

  Danny is sitting on my bed clutching Buster.

  “So, wanna tell me what scared you?”

  “There was a voice.”

  “Ahuh.”

  “There was a voice in the wardrobe in the smelly room. Heather was talking to it.”

  I can’t help it. I get a chill down my spine.

  “Heather was talking to the wardrobe?”

  He looks up and nods and then catches his bottom lip in his teeth. “It was talking back.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I recall my first day here, the giggle that I was sure I had heard coming from that same armoire.

  “Did you see who she was talking to?” I feel stupid even asking this, but I have to know.

  He shakes his head. “The door was open. I couldn’t see inside.”

  I exhale in relief and resist the urge to laugh at myself. I don’t want Danny to think I’m making fun of him. Heather has an imaginary friend. My friend Karen has a sister who has one, she makes a croaky voice when she plays with him. He’s called Jeremy. I can understand how this may have frightened Danny, but I can’t have him having nightmares about that damn armoire. There is only one thing to do.

  “Come on.” I hold out my hand and he doesn’t question. He takes it.

  We pad past the staircase and down the dim corridor. I don’t know what it is about this side of the house, but is always seems darker. No wonder Danny’s imagination is working overtime. The door to the room is ajar and I push it open and lead Danny in. He resists a little, but I give him a reassuring look and he relaxes.

  I can’t help it. I hesitate before grasping the handle on the armoire. It’s silly, I know, there are no such things as ghosts or monsters, but a tremor passes through me anyway. Danny is still holding my other hand and his grip tightens.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Look. One. Two. Three.” I yank open the door. There is a face staring back at me. I scream.

  Danny screams.

  We look at each other and we laugh.

  It’s a mirror, just an old mirror stuck to the back of the armoire.

  “Well, there you go,” I say.

  “There you go,” Danny says.

  I close the door and give him a squeeze. “Come on, let’s play in the garden.”

  We leave the room, closing the door firmly behind us.

  11

  GEMMA

  Only two more weeks until I start college. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the law saying
that I had to study for another two years, I’d be getting a job. I want to start my own business someday selling novelty jewellery, but I guess if I have to study then Art and Design is a good topic to have under my belt. Mum insisted I take another A-level too, something more practical. I decided on Biology simply because it comes easy to me.

  I’m not looking forward to starting the new college. Aside from the travel, there’s the fact that I won’t know anyone. My fantasy about being all mysterious and elusive kinda popped when I went into the village the other day. People don’t seem to care for strangers. I guess we’ll have to live here for a while before we’re considered locals. It’s annoying because I know this house has been in our family, one way or another, for generations. It’s a Learmonth legacy, although I’m not a Learmonth, I’m a Hastings. But mum was a Learmonth and, as the last surviving Learmonth, she got the house.

  The ground is hard and sun-baked under my trainers, but there is a definite chill to the air today despite the sun. Autumn will be here soon. The summers always feel so short. I have my sketchbook in my bag and a packed lunch. The house is as done as it can be now, only the final touches to be added, so mum’s finally released the reins, and I decided to explore the woods to the west.

  The woods lie on a gentle slope and it is cool under the canopy of trees. Once again I see the first touches of autumn in the changing colour of the leaves, all orange and red. I don’t know much about trees, but these look different to the ones outside the villager’s cottages. These trees have wide-spread branches and a bushy look with twisted trunks, as if each tree is trying a different pose. There are bright red berries hanging in clusters from the branches. It’s much cooler under the canopy of the trees and I slip on my hoodie and look for a nice spot to eat my lunch before making some sketches. The day stretches ahead of me, filled with glorious possibilities.

  I’m still searching when I spot the strangest looking tree. It’s larger than the others, but that’s not what makes it stand out. It’s the trunk that draws me, split in two in the middle and twisted at the top to make an aperture that looks like the eye of a needle. It’s wide enough to slip through. At least I think it is. I am overcome by the strangest feeling of familiarity. I take a step toward the tree, and then another, suddenly eager to find out if my theory is correct.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I was you?”

  I spin around in alarm to find the owner of the voice.

  “Hi.” He is leaning against a tree, all casual-like. He’s tall, taller than Liam, with dark messy hair and dark eyes. He is striking to look at, the kind of guy you expect to see in one of those Cinderella story movies, or a character from a young adult paranormal novel. I stare at him, expecting him to disappear or grow some pimples or something, but he remains as gorgeous as ever.

  Liam. I love Liam, I remind myself.

  He holds out his hand. “Come on, those things can be dangerous.”

  I glance at the tree then back at him. “You have to be joking.”

  “No.”

  “So you’re saving me from a tree?”

  He nods sombre-like.

  I feel a stab of irritation. Who does he think I am, some gullible twat from London or something? I step back and touch the tree and quirk a brow at him. Hah!

  He smiles. “Maybe I just wanted to hold the pretty girl’s hand.”

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  “I’m Sam.”

  “Gemma.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gemma.” He flashes that smile again, all white even teeth and a dimple.

  “You live up at Learmonth, right?”

  “Yeah, what about you?”

  “I don’t.”

  God, he’s trying to be cute. I hate that. “Um, anyway, I best get going.”

  “Why? You just got here. There are some lovely spots to sketch. I can show you if you like.”

  I frown. How does he know I sketch? My pad is in my backpack.

  He cocks his head as if listening to something. “You have artist’s hands and an artist’s eyes. I see the way you look at things.”

  Once again I don’t know what to say to that apart from, “You been watching me?”

  He smiles. “I spotted you a few minutes ago. So, you coming?”

  I hesitate. “I don’t know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

  He nods. “True, but then we’re far enough from your house and the village for me to just grab you if I want.” He grins disarmingly.

  I laugh. “Okay, you have a point. Lead the way.” He turns and I follow. This could be good. He looks my age, maybe a little older. Making a friend could be good, make starting college easier with a familiar face to look forward to.

  I can’t help study his back, tapered down to his tight butt. Damn, now I’m checking him out. He does have nice arms, though, wiry and strong-looking even if he’s as pale as the moon. He doesn’t seem to feel the chill in the air.

  I wonder if he’s wearing sun cream. I bet he burns easy.

  I trip and stumble, but don’t hit the ground because he has me.

  I don’t know how, but I have to ask. “Are you a vampire?”

  He stares at me for a long beat and then bursts out laughing.

  After a second I join in.

  I realise he is still holding me, his hands warm on my skin. “Come on then, show me this place.”

  He lets go of me and ambles off again. “Eyes on the trail now, Gemma.”

  12

  JULES

  The sun is glorious. I know it won’t last. We’ve been lucky so far, a long summer, but the weather forecast says it’s going to get cooler. There is a definite bite to the air today and the salty tang is more prominent. Right now I want to enjoy the sun and my new home. The uneasy feeling I had when we first came here has been swept out with the cobwebs and dust. It’s amazing what a coat of paint, a good scrubbing and your own furniture and knick knacks can do to make a place feel like home.

  Learmonth House definitely feels like home now.

  Danny and Heather are playing at the bottom of the garden. It’s good to see them getting on again. I don’t know what it is about moving houses that throws everything out of balance, but things seem to be settling back into their comfortable nooks now like a jigsaw puzzle that is almost complete.

  I feel Mary behind me standing in the patio doors. I wait for her to step out, and when she doesn’t, I hold out my hand.

  “Babe? You coming out? It’s lovely.”

  Silence.

  I sit up on the sun lounger and glance back at the house. The doorway is empty.

  I sit back, confused. I was sure she’d been there. I’d felt her presence.

  Something’s presence…

  No. I push the thought away. There are no such things as ghosts. Even if there are, I won’t have them, not here.

  Mary slips into the lounger next to mine.

  I blink in surprise because I didn’t hear her coming.

  “Sandwich?” She puts a plate on the table between us.

  “Oh, yum!” I take a neat triangle. Egg mayo, my favourite.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a moody cow the last few days,” she says

  “The last few days!”

  “Fine, the last few weeks. I was just so stressed out about…everything.”

  I chew and swallow. “I know. It’s okay, but we did it. We made it, we’re here and it’s our home.”

  Mary nods, glancing back up at the house. “I know. It looks fab now and the kids have got so much room to play and stuff. It’s great.”

  I study her face and I can tell she’s hiding something.

  “What’s the matter? What’s bothering you?”

  She shrugs. “It’s stupid. Just bad dreams, just the stress, I know. But they just seem…they seem so real.”

  I swing my legs off my lounger and face her, taking her face in mine. I plant a soft kiss on her lips. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Look, why don’t you go take a na
p? I’ll watch the kids and make dinner. I’ll wake you later and run you a lovely bubble bath. Trust me, once you relax, those nasty nightmares will piss right off.”

  She smiles at me and her face lights up, and I am reminded of why I fell in love with her. It was that smile that did it. Sunshine warm on my face, that’s what her smile is.

  She kisses me this time, soft and lingering.

  It’s been a while since we made love. With the move and everything, we’ve been so tired.

  “I love you, Jules.”

  “Love you too, babe.”

  She disappears inside the house, but reappears a moment later. “Oh, I almost forgot. A lady from the antique shop in town is coming down at two today to look at some of the furniture we want to get rid of, can you…”

  “Course. Go get some rest.”

  I wait for her to leave and then call the kids over for some lunch.

  13

  GEMMA

  The spot is beautiful, at the edge of the woods overlooking the sea. The sky is clear and the sea a flat expanse of blue. The beach below is all clean, perfect sand, and it’s deserted. Once again I am overcome with a sense of familiarity. I’ll have to ask mum if we’ve been here before. It stands to reason that we may have visited when I was a child.

  “Nobody really comes to this cove,” Sam says. “Consider it Learmonth’s private cove.”

  I like the sound of that. I imagine a bunch of family picnics and maybe even the odd rave if I can get away with it. I’m thinking, with Jules covering for me, I might just be able to.

  My stomach grumbles and Sam hands me an apple. I stare at it, then back at him, tight jeans riding low on his hips and a white T-shirt stretched tight across his chest and shoulders.

  “You got an invisible backpack or something?”