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  I do, I really do, but I know she won’t believe me. She’ll tell me that it was dream. Well, the first bit was about that Sam boy, but the rest was real. The girl on the beach and the breathing. It was real. I know it was.

  “You can tell me anything, Danny. You know that, right?”

  I nod and I can feel my eyes getting hot because I’m gonna cry again. I hate it! I wish that I was bigger and stronger and I could punch that breathing thing in the face!

  “Danny?”

  I decide to tell her anyway because she’ll tell me it was a dream and because then I can believe it was and it’ll make the scary feeling go away. So I tell her about the girl and the breathing thing. She listens and squeezes me tight and when I finish she doesn’t tell me that it was all my magination, she tells me she loves me and that everything will be better in the morning. She tells me that I can sleep in her room until the scary feeling goes away, no matter how many nights it takes. Then she tells me to go to sleep.

  I close my eyes and try and sleep. I wish she told me that it was all my magination. I can’t forget that little girl’s scary face.

  Next morning is the day before mine and Heather’s birthday. I go into her room and Jules is in there with her bottom sticking out the wardrobe. I know it’s Jules’s bottom because it is wearing tracksuit bottoms and mummy never wears those.

  I hear her say a bad word and leave her to it.

  I find Heather in the kitchen eating cereal.

  “Morning.” I jump up onto a seat and grab a bowl.

  Heather ignores me.

  I am starting to get really angry with her. She keeps being nice then mean then nice to me and I’m sick of it!

  “What’s the matter with you?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says.

  “Then why do you keep being mean to me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a baby. I don’t have time for babies.”

  “I am not a baby!”

  “Whatever.”

  I sit there with my hands in fists and I want to hit her. I don’t. “Tell Elsa to tell her friends to leave me alone!”

  Heather’s spoon stops halfway to her mouth. “What?”

  “You heard me. Yesterday at the beach there was a little girl who wanted me to play, and then last night in my room I heard someone breathing.”

  “You’re lying. They won’t want to play with you. You can’t be a princess.”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “Whatever.”

  “Just tell them. I don’t want to play.”

  She ignores me.

  “Why do you want to play with them anyway? They’re horrible and scary with creepy monster voices.”

  Heather frowns at me. “Now I know you’re lying because Elsa isn’t ugly, she’s beautiful!”

  “Morning, punkins!”

  Mum walks in, her arms full of clothes. She has a big smile on her face and it makes me feel better. She goes over to the washing machine and squishes the clothes inside.

  Heather pushes her bowl away and slips off her chair.

  I want to go after her to ask her more, but Mum comes over and taps my bowl.

  “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she says in a sing song voice.

  I sigh and fill my bowl with cereal.

  20

  GEMMA

  “Jules? You got a minute?”

  Jules smoothes the duvet across her bed and smiles at me. “No mice that I could find if that’s what you’re asking. Not even a dropping. But I did find a bleedin’ mirror.”

  “In the wardrobe?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what it is with this place, but mirrors seem to be the theme.”

  The armoire pops into my head. “What are we going to do with the musty room?”

  Jules shrugs. “That’s up to your mum. I think it’ll probably be turned into a guest room.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be a guest staying in a room with that piece of furniture.” As soon as I say it, I realise how stupid I sound, but Jules simply nods.

  “I know what you mean.”

  We lock eyes and some kind of understanding passes between us.

  Jules sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her. “Come sit. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I take a pew. “It’s Danny. Did you hear him scream last night?”

  Jules shakes her head. “But then you know me. I sleep like a log once I do manage to get to sleep.”

  I nod. “He said there was someone in his room, breathing by his bed. Earlier that day, we were at the beach and he said he saw a girl, but there was no one there. When I asked him about it, he said that I wouldn’t be able to see her. He seemed…scared, Jules. I’m worried about him, Heather too. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is off.”

  Jules nods. “I know what you mean, but it’s a really, really old house. I know your mum doesn’t go in for all that stuff, but I believe that houses absorb things that happen inside them, like sponges. Sometimes, with very old houses like this one, we may get echoes of the past.”

  “So you think I should stop worrying.”

  “I think that Heather has an imaginary friend and I think that Danny may be trying to compensate for the loss of his best friend.”

  I sigh. It makes so much sense when she puts it like that in the light of day. Gosh, I remember how I used to scare myself when I was younger.

  “Besides,” Jules continues, “Mary says you had one too.”

  “Had what?”

  “An imaginary friend, when you were around three years old.”

  “Really?” Now this is news to me. I don’t recall an imaginary friend. The only things I recall are the voices, whispers really. They started when I was eleven. The only person I told was Liam, and then mum, just the once, after which we never spoke about it again and they went away.

  “I bet you anything that once the twins start school and you start college, everything will go back to normal.”

  I hope she’s right. I want to tell her about Liam, but don’t want to put her in a position to have to lie to mum. I gnaw on my lip.

  “Gemma? What is it?”

  “Liam’s coming to visit tomorrow,” I blurt out. Great! I’m so good at keeping secrets.

  “That’s great.” She grins. “So what’s the problem?”

  “Mum.”

  “Ah, yeah, she has a thing about your close friendship, doesn’t she?”

  “Yep, but… Liam and I are more than friends now.”

  Her brows shoot up. “When did this happen? Oh, honey, is that why you were so upset when we moved?”

  I shake my head. “No, I mean, the move prompted me to take a chance and tell him how I felt. Turns out he feels the same way.”

  She clasps her hands together and makes a ace. “Ooo! I love it. So romantic! Don’t worry. I’ll talk to your mum while we’re out.”

  “You will?”

  “Course I will.”

  “You know, I’m glad mum met you, Jules. You’re kinda cool.”

  Jules pretends to flick her hair back and it’s funny ‘cos her hair is real short. “Well, what can I say?”

  I laugh and she gives me a hug. Last night’s fear seems miles away.

  21

  JULES

  There is a huge box in the hallway. I know who it’s from instantly. Mary walks in clutching a box opener and shoots me a sour look.

  I chuckle. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. At least he remembered.”

  She snorts and slits the box open. I glance over her shoulder and swallow a laugh.

  She sits back on her heels. “Well, if he’s going to overcompensate for screwing someone else, then who best to reap the benefits than the kids?”

  “Either that or he’s trying to tell me that he’s more of a man than I am.”

  “Which is blissfully true.” She tilts her head back for a kiss which I happily deliver.

  We stare at the ride on electric cars which I know cost a co
uple of hundred each. I know because we wanted to buy them but couldn’t afford to.

  Mary shuts the box and stands up. “Come on, help me hide these.”

  We drag the box toward the huge cupboard under the stairs and somehow manage to shove it in amongst all the other stuff crammed in there.

  “Have you spoke to him about visits?”

  She nods.

  “And?”

  “He says he’ll have to speak to Kelly. They have winter holiday plans. Apparently, New York is the place to be.”

  I snort. “Doesn’t matter, I’m sure the kids will have a fab time here. Can you imagine this place in winter, the snow and everything?”

  She smiles. “I can, and I can’t wait.”

  Gemma joins us in staring at the cupboard under the stairs. “What we looking at?”

  Mary winds an arm around her daughter’s waist. “Just happy.”

  Gemma pecks her on the cheek. “Happy enough to give me some pocket money?”

  Mary laughs. “There’s twenty quid in my purse.” As Gemma rushes off, she shouts after her, “I want change!”

  22

  GEMMA

  The village square is quieter today, as if the cooler weather has convinced people to stay indoors. I like it better this way, away from prying curious gazes. I can take my time and explore the shops. First, though, I find the bus stop and check the times. There is only one bus that comes this far and it runs three times a day only; once in the morning, once at midday and once late afternoon. The morning bus leaves at seven fifteen. Knowing my luck, I’ll only have one of the morning classes, which means I will either have to go in early each day and hang about, or ride my bike to the town three miles away.

  I sigh. I can’t wait to start driving.

  Timetable memorised, I head across the square to a small, interesting looking shop with colourful tapestries in the window display. The bell jingles as I enter and a young girl about my age looks up from the counter. The interior is filled with ornaments, and wind chimes hanging from the ceiling. It’s quirky and pretty, the kind of place you could spend ages exploring.

  The girl is still watching me.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi.” She looks me over with assessing brown eyes. “You the Learmonth girl?”

  I nod.

  “Cool, what’s it like, the house?”

  I shrug. “Okay.”

  She winds a ribbon of brown hair around her finger. “You seen any ghosts?”

  “Seriously?”

  She shrugs. “They say it’s haunted, you know, the house, that old Henry and Karenhaunt the place on account of her killing herself and her baby.”

  Whoa, now that is new information.

  “Jen!” An older woman, probably Jen’s mum, emerges from the back of the shop. “I’m so sorry,” she says to me. “Jen was born without a tactful bone in her body.”

  “It’s okay. I’d like to know more, if that’s alright?”

  The woman’s lips turn down. “You don’t really want to be putting stock in local rumour and superstition.”

  She speaks as if she isn’t part of the local bracket. So I ask, “Have you lived here long?”

  “Five years, but if you’re not born here, or you don’t have family here, then you’ll never be local. Aside from that, it’s a good place to live, a little eccentric at times, but peaceful.”

  “Well, come on then.” Jen jerks her head. “It’s almost lunch time.” She lifts the barrier leading to the back of the shop and I duck through.

  We’re in a kind of small kitchen-type room. There’s a kettle, a small counter top, electric cooker, a tiny on-the-counter fridge and a table with four chairs.

  I’ve been given a glass of lemonade and Jen is unwrapping a Victoria sponge.

  “You like cake?” Jen asks. “You look like you like cake.”

  “Jen!” her mum admonishes, but I just laugh. I’m used to this. I have a solid body. My hoody and trackies just make me look fat.

  “This is all muscle.” I hold out my arm.

  “Really?” She reaches out and squeezes it. “Wow, you work out?”

  “I used to play hockey and football for my school.”

  The tinkle of bells fills the room and her mum slips out to the front of the shop.

  “So you’re a lesbian?”

  I choke on my lemonade. “Seriously? Playing hockey and football does not make someone gay.”

  She cocks her head. “So you’re not a lesbian?”

  “No, but my mum is.”

  “Maybe you could be a lesbian and you don’t know it?”

  “Trust me, if I was a lesbian, then I would know.”

  “But did your mum know? I mean, she had you. Did she have you with a bloke?”

  “My mum’s bisexual.”

  “Now that’s just greedy.”

  I stare at her for a long beat and then her lips quirk and we both burst out laughing.

  The cake has been eaten and the lemonade drunk and I find that I may have made a friend. Jen is funny and straightforward. I like her a lot.

  “So tell me about the rumours.”

  She leans forward and lowers her voice. “Well, they say that Karen Henry’s wife, murdered their newborn and then killed herself. They say she went crazy. She believed that the little people had taken her baby, and if she killed the one they had left her with they would bring back her real child. Obviously, once the baby was dead there was no coming back from it. Once she realised what a mistake she’d made, she was overcome with grief and guilt and she killed herself, threw herself into the sea off the cliffs by Learmonth House.”

  “Little people?”

  “You know, the fair folk, the good neighbours.”

  I stare blankly at her.

  She rolls her eyes. “Fairies,” she whispers. “But you don’t say that word around here. It’s considered bad luck, they say. If you say it then you summon them.”

  “You believe all this stuff?”

  “I don’t know. When I first moved here I thought it was kinda cool, you know? I mean, what young girl doesn’t want to believe in magic? But there really is nothing magical about it. The stuff they believe in is dark and dangerous and downright creepy. Have you seen the horseshoes above the houses, and the Rowan trees in the gardens?”

  I nod.

  “Yeah, well that’s all to ward them off. There are so many little superstitions. I did some research a year ago and found out that the woods by the coast are made up entirely of Hawthorn trees and bushes.” She looks at me meaningfully.

  “So?”

  “Hawthorn is their tree, their vessel.”

  My mind jumps to the huge twisted tree with the mouth. I shudder.

  She smiles. “Have I scared you?”

  “Hardly. If the place was haunted or inhabited by…little people, I’m sure I would have seen or heard something by now.”

  “You got any babies up at the house?”

  I laugh.

  “Well, in that case you should be safe.”

  “You really believe in this?”

  She shrugs. “There’s no smoke without fire, right?”

  We lapse into silence. I can’t help but think of all the tiny little things that have happened at the house since we moved in, especially Heather’s imaginary friend and Danny’s fear. I think of the armoire and the giggles and the mirrors that paint the house and hide in wardrobes and under beds. It’s all too much of a coincidence, yet I am not ready to make such a crazy leap.

  “You want to come up for dinner?” I ask.

  She grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Jen’s mum says she can ride her bike up to the house, but she’ll pick her up after dinner.

  The ride back up the hill passes so much faster in good company. We park the bikes on the gravel outside the house and Jen lets out a low whistle.

  “Nice.”

  On impulse I begin to walk toward the gate and the woods.

  “Where we g
oing?”

  “I want to show you something,” I say.

  “Ooo! Intriguing.”

  We crunch through the woods as quickly as possible. I want her to see the tree before it gets dark.

  For a moment I think I have taken a wrong turn, but then there it is, rising up like a shadowy claw.

  “Now that is something.” Jen circles the tree. “Creepy, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you?” She indicates the hole.

  I shake my head.

  She grins. “Superstitious after all, huh?”

  I open my mouth to tell her, no, that Sam stopped me, but for some reason the words won’t come. Instead, I say, “Come on, let’s get back. I think its shepherd’s pie night.”

  23

  GEMMA

  Jen’s no nonsense forthright attitude is a big hit with mum. She even tones it down for the kids, which makes me like her even more.

  We are on coffee and the kids have been excused before she brings up the ghosts.

  I can tell from Mum’s and Jules’s faces that Karen’s fate is no news to them, but the rest, the little people stuff, is. Mum frowns a lot during the conversation. Jules listens with a rapt expression on her face. I can tell that Jen in enjoying the attention because her eyes are all sparkly, and she moves her hands real expressively.

  “So, Gemma says there are no ghosts…”

  Jules shrugs. “What can I say? It’s just an ordinary, creaky old house.”

  “Can I look around?” Jen asks.

  Mum and Jules exchange looks. “I don’t see why not,” mum says.

  We finish our coffees and head upstairs. I don’t know why, but I take her straight to the musty room and the armoire.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “It’s a wardrobe.”

  “Yeah.”

  She steps forward and pulls it open.

  “Whoa!” She jumps back, hand on heart, and then laughs. “Very funny, Gemma.” She studies her reflection in the mirror, then reaches up to touch it. I step forward to look at her reflection. There is a smudge on its forehead. Looks like this mirror is dirty too, but there is no way I’m reaching in to wipe it clean.