The Steps up the Chimney

by William Corlett

  ‘Don’t go too far, will you? The weather looks treacherous,’ she called back. Then she added, ‘Lunch is at one.’

  ‘Lunch!’ Alice protested under her breath. ‘I expect it’ll be cabbage AND carrots!’ – two of her least favourite vegetables.

  Then, leading the way, she ran across the snow-covered lawn, cutting off the circle of the drive, making for the footprints.

  6

  The Window

  AS ALICE LED the way up the steep hillside, following not only the mysterious footprints but also her own smaller ones, she pointed out the place where she had slipped and fallen and the scuffed snow where the dog had raced and jumped around her.

  Then, reaching the clearing, she led them to the place where the prints dramatically ended.

  ‘Now will you believe me?’ she said, triumphantly.

  ‘I didn’t not believe you before, Al,’ Mary protested. ‘I just said that there was probably some simple explanation for it.’

  ‘But what?’ William said, staring at the snow, thoughtfully. Then he walked towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. Alice meanwhile crossed and placed her own feet in the final set of prints.

  ‘Where are you?’ she called in a loud voice.

  ‘Don’t, Alice,’ William said, urgently.

  ‘Why?’ Alice asked, surprised.

  ‘I don’t like it. There’s something . . . creepy about all this.’

  ‘I’m not scared,’ Alice said, sticking her hands into her anorak pockets.

  ‘Hey, stay still a minute, Al,’ Mary said suddenly and as she spoke, she ran towards her. ‘D’you notice something different? About those footprints?’

  Alice stared down at her own feet, standing in the printed snow.

  ‘Urn . . . whoever they belong to has got bigger feet than me.’

  ‘Something else. Don’t you see? All the way up from the drive the prints are one after another – because whoever made them was walking. But these last two are side by side.’

  ‘So – the person was standing still,’ William said, realizing what Mary was getting at.

  ‘Exactly,’ Mary said, excitedly. ‘And something else. Look! Over there. What else can you see, Alice?’

  Alice stared ahead of her, in the direction that Mary was pointing.

  ‘I can see all sorts of things,’ she replied. ‘The trees, the snow . . .’

  ‘What about the footprints?’ She pointed to where the snow was all disturbed.

  ‘No. They’ve disappeared. There’s just a lot of mess, like as if the person had jumped from here to there and then fallen.’

  William shook his head, and ran to where the snow was all disturbed. Then he looked back at Alice, measuring the distance.

  ‘No. It’s too far. For someone to jump that far, they’d have to take a run first, and yet it’s obvious they were standing still.’

  ‘A human would have to take a run first,’ Mary said quietly.

  The other two looked at her.

  ‘But whoever it is must be a human. Those are definitely human footsteps,’ William protested.

  ‘They are there, yes,’ Mary agreed. ‘But over here’ – she ran to the disturbed snow – ‘you can see animal prints. An animal could have jumped from where Alice is standing to here, couldn’t it?’

  ‘What sort of animal?’ Alice asked in a scared voice.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mary shrugged, ‘a big dog, maybe.’

  ‘Mary,’ Alice cried out, ‘you mean the man turned into the dog?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mary replied in a small voice. ‘What d’you think, Will?’

  ‘At the station, I was looking at the fox . . . and . . . it’s so hard trying to remember exactly . . . I was staring at the fox, or rather the fox was staring at me . . . and . . . I heard the man’s voice calling to me. I remember, for a moment, I thought the fox was speaking, then I realized that that wasn’t possible. Then the fox disappeared, and I looked round and saw the man staring at me – just like the fox had been.’

  William turned slowly and looked at Mary.

  ‘So, the fox became the man? Is that what you think?’ she asked him, quietly.

  ‘I don’t know what to think,’ he answered her, thoughtfully.

  ‘D’you mean the same man made these prints, then?’ Alice asked. ‘Or are there more than one . . . of them?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know,’ William said, exasperatedly.

  ‘You know what we’re talking about, don’t you?’ Mary said, quietly.

  ‘What, Mare?’ Alice could hardly speak.

  ‘Magic,’ Mary answered.

  Alice ran and grabbed hold of William’s hand.

  ‘Let’s go back, William. I don’t like it here.’

  ‘Come on then,’ her brother said and he sounded relieved at the suggestion.

  They started off down the hill walking as quickly as they could. But they had to tread with care, for the snow was slippery and they didn’t want to fall. Then Mary suddenly stopped.

  ‘Oh, William,’ she said, ‘I’ve just thought of something else. The name of the station – Druce Coven.’

  ‘What about it?’ William asked her, his nervousness beginning to show in his voice.

  ‘Don’t you see? Coven. Witches have covens.’

  With a shriek Alice set off at a run down the hill. She’d heard enough; she’d had enough and she didn’t like any of it.

  ‘Alice, wait for us,’ William called. But she was already disappearing into the trees on the lower side of the clearing. Mary and he started off in pursuit, slipping and slithering down the slope into the darker wood.

  Alice was waiting for them, panting and out of breath down on the drive. As William and Mary came out from the trees, the first light flakes of snow started to float down from above.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Alice said, linking arms between them. ‘I just didn’t like it up there. I felt all the time we were being watched.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get back anyway. It’ll be nearly lunch time.’

  They walked in silence back along the drive towards the house. Then they paused for a moment, to look at it.

  ‘It’s ever such a big place just for Uncle Jack and Phoebe to live in,’ Alice said.

  ‘But they’re going to make it into a hotel,’ William said.

  ‘Does that mean we’ll have to pay every time we come to stay?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Of course not. We’re family.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll like it when other people who we don’t know are staying.’

  ‘It won’t be for ages yet,’ William said, staring thoughtfully at the place. ‘Uncle Jack has masses of work to do on it, and he can’t afford to employ a builder.’

  ‘But he isn’t a builder,’ Mary said. ‘I thought he was a scientist or something.’

  ‘He makes bombs,’ Alice said, sounding more cheerful.

  ‘No, he doesn’t, Alice. He was working with nuclear energy.’

  ‘I thought that was bombs,’ Alice said, kicking the snow.

  ‘It’s power and stuff. You know, like electricity.’

  ‘Why has he stopped?’ Mary asked. ‘Mum said he was making a fortune.’

  ‘He’s dropped out,’ William replied, without sounding absolutely certain himself what he meant. ‘I think Phoebe maybe persuaded him.’

  ‘But why?’ Mary insisted.

  William shrugged.

  ‘Maybe she always wanted to run a hotel,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t see it being much of a hotel,’ Alice said, half to herself. ‘Not if you can only eat vegetables all the time. Who would want that?’

  ‘Other vegetarians,’ William said, patiently.

  ‘Are there any?’ Alice asked, aghast.

  ‘Masses,’ William said. ‘I expect some of your friends are.’

  ‘They are not,’ she retorted, witheringly. ‘All my friends eat sausages. I make it a rule. Besides – what do vegetarians eat for Christmas dinner?’
>
  ‘Stuffed cabbage, I expect,’ William replied with a grin.

  ‘Ugh!’ Alice yelled, making instant sick noises.

  Mary, who had been silent throughout this exchange, now gripped William’s arm.

  ‘William,’ she said quietly, ‘can you see something odd? About the house?’

  ‘Oh, please! Not more frightenings,’ Alice pleaded.

  ‘What?’ William asked, staring at it.

  ‘Just look for a minute,’ Mary told him. ‘You too, Alice. I’m sure I’m right.’

  The snow was falling thickly now. The house was grey against the whiteness. The centre of the building, where the porch was, was built of stone and looked almost like a church. It rose to the steeply pitched tiled roof in which their bedroom windows were set. To each side of this main section there were additional wings. One was built of wooden beams, painted black, with white plaster-work between them.

  ‘That’ll be the Tudor bit,’ William said, knowledgeably. ‘Uncle Jack said that the centre bit is much older. Medieval, probably. It looks as if it might have been a monastery building. Then Uncle Jack said that the roof, where we are, was added to the main building at the same time as the Tudor bit . . .’

  ‘Oh, we don’t want a history lesson, Will,’ Alice groaned.

  ‘I think it’s interesting. I could tell you weren’t listening when he told us about it last night.’

  ‘I was busy chewing the cud!’ Alice giggled.

  ‘Actually, the banana tart was delicious,’ Mary said.

  ‘Oooh, yes!’ Alice agreed, rubbing her tummy.

  ‘And then the other wing was added later,’ William continued. ‘But I can’t remember when exactly. Anyway, what am I supposed to be noticing?’

  ‘Shall I tell you?’ Mary asked, smugly.

  ‘Go on then,’ William told her.

  ‘Well. You see our windows.’ She pointed up to the snowy roof where a row of dormer windows perched precariously on the steep slope. ‘I know that one’s ours, because I can see my red dress.’

  ‘So?’ William said, irritated by all this mystery.

  ‘Well,’ Mary continued, ‘didn’t you think we were right at the top of the house?’

  ‘We are. We’re right under the roof.’

  ‘Well, I can see another window, higher up,’ Mary said triumphantly.

  ‘Where?’ Alice demanded.

  ‘You see the chimney?’ Mary said, pointing again.

  The other two peered through the thick blobs of snowflakes that were floating down in a steady stream. Above the dormer windows, a great stack of red brick chimneys rose from the centre of the roof. They were like a bundle of barley-sugar sticks, each one designed with a twisting shape and surmounted by chimney pots that looked like spiky crowns.

  ‘Yes,’ William said, focusing on the chimneys.

  ‘Well, can’t you see? At the base of the chimneys. Where the red brick meets the line of the roof . . .’

  ‘I can see it now, Mare. Yes, you’re right. There’s a little window set into the base of the chimney. Or, at least, it looks like a window.’

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ Mary said. ‘But, how can there be a room there? And, how d’you get to it?’

  ‘There must be a way up to it from our landing. We’ll explore later,’ William said.

  ‘There must be ever such a lot of secret rooms,’ Alice said, brushing soft snow off her sleeve. ‘I expect you could almost get lost just being in the house.’

  ‘Right. Let’s make a vow, then,’ William said, using his stern voice.

  ‘Solemn honour?’ Alice asked, catching his tone.

  ‘Solemn honour,’ William repeated.

  The three stretched out their right hands and then clasped them together; Mary’s on William’s and Alice’s on Mary’s.

  ‘We solemnly swear,’ William intoned and the girls repeated after him, ‘that no one will explore the house or the country round it on their own . . .’

  ‘What? Not ever?’ Alice exclaimed.

  ‘Not ever,’ William insisted.

  ‘Oh, William!’

  ‘Swear, Alice.’

  ‘But it’s so boring having to do everything all together. We’d never have seen the footprints if I hadn’t come out on my own . . .’

  ‘Swear, Alice,’ he repeated.

  ‘D’you think it’s really dangerous?’ Mary asked him.

  ‘I don’t know. But, like we said, there’s something very odd about this place. It may not be bad but until we know I think we should be careful.’

  ‘All right,’ Alice said, her eyes wide with fear, ‘I’m ready to swear now.’

  ‘We solemnly swear,’ they said in unison.

  As the children hurried round to the kitchen door, the fox which had been watching from the shelter of a holly bush turned and streaked away up the snow-covered slope into the secret depths of the forest.

  ‘What was that?’ Mary said, looking over her shoulder.

  ‘What was what?’ Alice asked. She sounded as though she’d had enough excitement for one day.

  ‘Oh, nothing. It’s all right,’ Mary said, quietly. ‘I thought I saw something, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, come on, then,’ Alice pleaded. ‘I’m freezing,’ and she ran ahead towards the house.

  ‘What was it?’ William enquired under his breath.

  ‘Fox, I think,’ Mary said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  William nodded.

  ‘I knew he was there,’ he said. ‘I just knew it.’

  ‘Let’s go in, Will,’ Mary whispered. ‘Alice is right. It is cold.’

  But William knew that it wasn’t just the cold that made her hurry forward.

  ‘What does it want?’ he said, half to himself.

  ‘Us, I think,’ his sister answered and she ran towards the kitchen door.

  7

  The Attic Rooms

  JACK DIDN’T RETURN in time for lunch. Phoebe waited as long as she could, then she told the children that they should all eat and that she’d heat something for him when he arrived.

  ‘I expect the road is bad over the moor, with all this snow,’ she said. ‘He’s been worried about what it would be like ever since we moved in. On account of the baby, I suppose. But, honestly! People were having babies long before there were hospitals and cars to get them there. Poor Jack! I can see him being the midwife himself before we’re through!’

  ‘But it’s not for ages,’ Mary said. ‘I expect the snow will have gone by then.’

  ‘End of January?’ Phoebe said, with a smile. ‘Could be worse than this.’

  ‘Poor Uncle Jack,’ Alice murmured.

  ‘Why, Alice?’ Phoebe asked, looking at her.

  ‘He’s not a doctor, is he?’ Alice tried not to let the animosity she was feeling sound in her voice. ‘I’m not surprised he’s worried.’

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ Phoebe told her.

  ‘Maybe he’s not just thinking of you,’ Alice retorted. ‘It’s his baby as well, you know.’

  This unexpected outburst was followed by an awkward silence. Alice chopped up her food energetically, then pushed it to the side of her plate.

  ‘Don’t you like it?’ Phoebe said, after a moment.

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Alice replied.

  ‘I think it’s delicious,’ Mary said. ‘What is it, Phoebe?’

  ‘Oh, just lentils and vegetables and things.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Mary continued, warming dangerously to the subject, ‘you wouldn’t know it didn’t have meat in it.’

  ‘I would,’ Phoebe said, with a smile.

  ‘So would I,’ Alice agreed.

  ‘Is eating meat so important to you, Alice?’ Phoebe asked, turning to look at her, still smiling.

  Alice shrugged and looked down at her plate, her lips pursed.

  A horrible, embarrassed silence followed. William glanced at Mary, as if willing her to say something. But she just looked at her fingernails and pretended she hadn’t seen him. />
  ‘I don’t eat meat because I would find it impossible to kill the animal I was eating. That being so, it doesn’t seem right to me that I should ask someone else to do the killing for me. I also believe that you can get as good, if not better nutrition, from a meat-free diet. Doesn’t that seem reasonable to you?’

  The question was directed at Alice, who said nothing and remained staring at her plate. After another interminable silence, Phoebe rose and went to the stove for the casserole dish.

  ‘Would either of you like a second helping?’ she said, addressing William and Mary.

  ‘No thank you,’ William said, trying to sound cheerful. ‘I’m full up.’

  ‘Mary?’ Phoebe held the casserole dish towards her.

  Mary shook her head, still staring at her nails.

  Phoebe sighed.

  ‘I haven’t made a pudding,’ she said. ‘We have our main meal in the evening. But there are some apples . . .’

  ‘Is it all right if we get down now?’ William asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We’ll do the washing-up,’ Mary volunteered half-heartedly.

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Phoebe said, firmly. ‘You’re on holiday.’ She glanced out of the low window at the frosty yard and the falling snow. ‘Though I don’t know what you’re going to do with yourselves. I’d hoped you could go for long walks and other equally healthy things! But I expect you’d find that boring. Though, actually, the country round here is really exciting. But in this weather that won’t be much fun. In fact I’m not at all sure it wouldn’t be dangerous.’ She rose and walked over to lean against the sink, looking out at the wintry scene. ‘I hope Jack is all right,’ she said, more to herself.

  Behind her back Alice looked up for the first time and pulled a hideous face and stuck her tongue out. Mary, seeing this, almost giggled and put a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Can we go upstairs and play?’ William asked, innocently.

  ‘Play?’ Mary exploded, scornfully. ‘I don’t play, William!’

  ‘Yes, you do,’ her brother said, giving her a savage look. ‘I brought Trivial Pursuits.’

  ‘It’s too difficult, William,’ she wailed. ‘And you’ve learned all the answers.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said, with a meaningful look. ‘Is it all right, Phoebe?’