‘Have you got her?’ David flashed the torch.
‘Yes!’ Martin was breathless. ‘Pull, Kitty!’
Slowly, agonisingly they edged backwards. Scrabbling sounds came from inside the hole. David came as close to the edge as he dared and shone the torch to guide Andrea as she scrambled for handholds. At last she pulled herself up and lay panting on the rocks.
‘Keep going!’ urged David. ‘The edge might give way.’ Andrea hastily crawled forward and joined Martin and Kitty, who had also sunk to the ground, weak with relief.
With shaking fingers David untied the rope from around his waist. He could still feel the pain where it had cut in.
‘Is everyone okay?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Thanks,’ said Andrea.
David stood up and directed his torch beam into the gaping hole.
‘Have a look at this!’ he said unsteadily.
The others edged closer to the hole and peered in. The torch beam travelled down through darkness. Far below, a few tumbled rocks reflected the faint light.
‘I think I’m going to throw up,’ announced Andrea.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Martin. ‘Can’t you keep it still, Dave? There’s something down there.’
David held the torch as steadily as he could. Something glinted at the foot of the shaft.
‘See that?’ said Martin. ‘It’s . . . like railway lines. Why would there be railway lines down here?’
‘Look,’ interrupted David, ‘I hate to spoil the party, but I’ve got a bit of a problem here. Like where do I go now?’
He raised the torch and swept it around the edges of the hole. The whole floor of the tunnel between him and the others had collapsed, and there was obviously no way for him to climb back.
‘Maybe there’s a way out on your side,’ suggested Kitty.
‘I’ll have a look.’ David turned and shone his torch along the passage.
‘Hey, don’t leave us in the dark!’ Andrea cried.
‘Light one of your candles, then.’
Andrea groped in her bag, found a candle and lit it. The shadows flickered eerily.
David set off uneasily, testing the floor with every footstep. He didn’t have to go far to find the tunnel blocked by a big rock-fall.
‘Can’t get through that way,’ he announced, coming back. ‘Not on my own. There’s about a tonne of rock.’
‘Can we find some wood?’ suggested Kitty. ‘Maybe we could make a bridge?’
‘There’s no wood.’ David had already made up his mind. ‘I’m going to jump across the gap.’
‘No, David, don’t,’ said Martin. ‘We’ll go back and get help.’
‘It makes sense,’ said David. ‘I can do it easily.’
‘Let’s use the rope somehow,’ insisted Martin. ‘We can pull you across . . . ’
‘If it was you, you’d jump,’ said David.
There was a silence.
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Maybe, but . . . ’
‘But Martin won the long jump at the sports carnival!’ said Kitty.
‘Well, so he did.’ David didn’t quite succeed in keeping the tremor out of his voice. ‘I don’t think I went in that event. About four metres, wasn’t it, Marty?’
‘Four point four eight, actually,’ said Martin reluctantly.
‘Right. Well, I’ll need some light. Have you got any more candles?’
Andrea set up all her candles along the sides of the tunnel and across the edge of the hole and lit them solemnly. Kitty retreated back along the passage a little and sat down with her head on her knees. David moved to the edge of the hole and measured the distance across with his eyes, then paced out his run-up, counting.
‘You won’t be able to see the edge on your side.’ Andrea’s voice quavered.
‘I can see it a bit. And I know how many steps.’ David kept his voice steady. ‘Now, get back and give me room.’
Martin and Andrea backed along the passage to join Kitty. David turned the torch off and waited for a moment until his eyes were used to the candlelight. He could see their shadowy outlines ahead of him, his goal. Then he was running, his footsteps thundering in the confined space.
Kitty still had her hands over her eyes when he fell forward, gasping, almost on top of them.
‘Not too shabby!’ Martin was grinning from ear to ear.
‘My takeoff could have been better,’ said David shakily. ‘Do you think I should have another go?’
Kitty burst into tears. Andrea put an arm around her. The two boys blew out the candles and collected them all, then, with David’s torch leading the way again, they made their way back to the vast cave.
‘Now all we have to do is find the right entrance,’ said David.
‘Let’s get into line, the way we were when we came in,’ suggested Kitty.
‘What good will that do?’ scoffed Martin.
‘You’ll see.’ They lined up, David first, followed by Kitty, Andrea and Martin.
‘Now, we’ll walk around the wall until we find a passage that looks right,’ said Kitty.
‘I think it’s that one over there,’ Andrea pointed.
They shuffled over to the opening.
‘Let’s pretend we’re just coming out of this passage,’ said Kitty. ‘Turn around, David.’
They got into position. David swept the torch beam around.
‘Oh, I see,’ said Andrea. ‘Those pillar things are too far to the left. They were more in front of us, weren’t they? This is a good idea, Kitty.’
They worked their way around the wall until they found an entrance which seemed to be the right one.
‘This is it!’ said Martin. ‘You’re a genius, Kit!’
‘I know,’ said Kitty modestly, following David into the tunnel. He stopped after a few steps, and she bumped into his back. ‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry, genius,’ said David. ‘No go.’ He shone his torch onto a solid stone wall in front of him.
‘Never mind,’ said Andrea. ‘We’re getting closer.’
After a few more false starts they found the way out. When they were sure of it, David went back and used his knife to scratch a big cross and an arrow by the entrance.
‘Now, let’s get the ropes on again,’ he said.
The others nodded vigorously, and they roped themselves together, checking the knots carefully. David led the way back along the passage to the shaft.
‘Umm, where to now?’ he asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind getting out of here for a while,’ confessed Martin. ‘I could do with some fresh air.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Kitty. ‘We can have a picnic in the garden with the rest of the food.’
They climbed up the shaft and made their way out of the cellar and into the garden of the Haunted House. The shadows were surprisingly long, but they found a sunny spot by a pond choked with water-lilies.
Andrea put her bag down, sat down on the edge of the pond and dabbled her hands in the greenish water.
‘I’m starving,’ she said. ‘Have you got any more of those muesli bars?’
‘Andrea!’ gasped Kitty, staring at her. ‘Your legs!’
Andrea’s bare legs were streaked with blood from numerous cuts and scratches, and bruises were starting to develop. She held up her hands. Her fingers and wrists were a mess, covered with scratches.
‘It hurt when I was climbing out of the hole,’ she said. ‘But then I forgot.’
‘Come back to our place,’ suggested Kitty. ‘We’ve got some stuff to put on it, and bandaids . . . ’
‘Nah, I’m all right. Mum’s got some herbal stuff at home. I’ll have a long, hot bath.’
They finished the food.
‘Are we coming back tomorrow?’ asked David.
‘You bet,’ said Martin.
‘We can’t,’ Kitty reminded him. ‘We’re going to the Blue Mountains to see our cousins.’
‘Oh, why does that have to be tomorrow?’ groaned Martin.
‘Well
, I’ll be back,’ announced Andrea. ‘What about you, David? Are you up for it?’
‘Oh! Yeah, sure. How about eleven o’clock?’
‘Yep. Meet you in the garden at eleven.’
‘But you’ll see everything without us,’ protested Kitty.
‘We’ll just have a little look,’ David promised her. ‘I can’t spend too much time. I’ve got to make a model for Science.’
‘And I’ve got a History assignment,’ said Andrea.
The boys looked at her with surprise.
‘So?’ she said challengingly. ‘So?’
‘Fine,’ said Martin. ‘Fine.’
THEY separated at David’s front gate. He let himself in and quietly stowed his backpack in the hall cupboard.
Cooking sounds were coming from the kitchen. His mother had vegetables strewn over the bench and was frowning into the screen of her laptop.
‘The recipe says chervil,’ she said. ‘I wonder if Italian parsley would do?’
David’s heart sank a little. His mother’s cooking was sometimes rather experimental. He preferred weekdays, when his grandfather took over.
‘Can I help with dinner?’ he offered.
‘That would be lovely, darling. It says the potatoes have to be cut into two-centimetre cubes.’ She pushed a board and a knife towards him, and he perched on a stool beside her.
‘So how was the meeting?’ he asked casually.
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ murmured his mother. ‘Is there something I’m missing? Or rather, something you’re missing? Some new piece of technology you’re hankering after?’
‘No, Mother, I’m just interested.’
‘Well, since you ask, there’s a little light on the horizon today. I won’t fill you in on all the details, for fear of sending you to sleep, but there’s a bit of a legal hitch at the developer’s end.’
‘What kind of hitch?’
‘Just the faintest possibility that the developer can’t prove ownership. This guy, Harold Buckingham, is supposed to have inherited the property, but he can’t produce any paperwork. It’s all deliciously Dickensian. Original title deeds, signed and sealed with wax. Haven’t been seen for sixty years.’
‘So he can’t go ahead?’
‘Oh, he’ll find them eventually, I suppose. But it gives us a bit more time to get our case together, and with luck get a preservation order on the house.’
‘Are they really going to wreck the house and the garden?’
‘I’m afraid that’s their plan. We’re arguing that they should keep the garden and restore the house, turn it into apartments. But I think greed will prevail. He’ll make a staggering amount of money.’
David pictured the precious document, yellow and tattered, rolled up into a scroll and tied with faded ribbon. Places like the Haunted House had secret passages and sliding panels. Maybe it was there, hidden somewhere. If he found it he would make sure Buckingham never got hold of it. Of course, he could never tell his mother. She was very strict on the law.
‘David?’
‘Sorry?’
‘I said, how did you go with Martin today? Weren’t you helping him with his maths?’
‘Oh! Sure, he’s fine. We hung out a bit in the park, too.’
‘Good. Nothing like a bit of fresh air.’
David thought guiltily of the musty smell in the tunnels and the foul air in the shaft. Deeper down it smelled damp and earthy, like mushrooms. Most of all, he remembered the smokiness of Andrea’s candles as he jumped.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It was good.’
ANDREA sat cross-legged on her narrow bed, copying Kitty’s notes into an exercise book. It was cloudy outside, and not much early-morning light found its way into the room. She tried turning on her bedside lamp.
‘Aarrgghhhh!’ Celeste half sat up, platinum hair sticking out, and waved a protesting hand. She had come in noisily just before dawn, smelling of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and Andrea hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.
Andrea turned off the lamp and took her things out to the kitchen. Dirty dishes were piled high on the bench and in the sink. Her mother was at the table, reading yesterday’s paper and tapping cigarette ash into a half-empty coffee cup.
‘Hello, love. I was just going to make some toast. Want some?’
‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’
Andrea slipped her books into her schoolbag, which lay on the floor by the door.
‘I’m glad you’re up, sweetie. We need to get stuck into that bathroom. It’s a pigsty.’
Andrea sighed. Her mother hadn’t stirred, so she dug out some bread and put it into the toaster.
DRESSED in leggings to cover her bruises and an old baggy jumper that she had found under Celeste’s bed, Andrea helped her mother do a quick house-clean. As soon as they had finished she mumbled an excuse and left the house.
It was cold outside, with a biting wind. She slipped through the fence of the Haunted House and followed a faintly discernible brick-paved path through the overgrown garden, ducking her head to avoid overhanging branches.
The path led to a semi-circular walled garden filled with thorny rosebushes and edged with trees. In front of the trees was a broken pedestal on which stood a white stone statue of a naked woman, her long hair flowing around her shoulders, her eyes downcast. There were piles of rubble around the base of the pedestal, but the woman was intact.
Andrea folded her hands and looked down, unconsciously imitating the statue’s pose.
Faintly, in the distance, she heard the town hall clock begin to strike.
She found her way through to the big stagnant pond and stopped some distance from it. David was sitting on its edge, skimming stones over the greenish water. A huge goldfish popped up its head, looked around in goggle-eyed surprise, then disappeared.
‘Oh! Sorry, fishy,’ said David, laughing. He tossed another stone into the pond.
‘Talking to the fishes?’ called Andrea.
‘Yeah, if I say the magic words it’ll turn into a frog.’
‘Come and see what I’ve found.’ Andrea led the way back to the rose garden and the white lady. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’
She pulled her camera out of her bag. ‘She’s sort of like Sleeping Beauty, with all those briars.’
‘Mmmm.’ David looked embarrassed.
‘Think of it as art, David!’ exclaimed Andrea, laughing. ‘Come on! I reckon we can get through here.’
They found a path that led to another statue in the middle of a round pond, now quite dry. This statue was a small boy, also naked, peeing into the pond. He was surrounded by fish with their mouths open, and the whole construction was clearly designed as a fountain. Some of the fish were broken, and the boy was missing an arm.
‘More art!’ said David, grinning.
Another path curved towards the open space in front of the house.
‘Wait!’ said Andrea. ‘We don’t have to climb through the window any more. I just have to find it . . . ’
She led the way round another corner. This wall of the house faced the garden, and there were several glass doors.
‘It’s one of these . . . ’ She ran along, peering through dusty glass and trying door handles. ‘Ah, here it is!’
The door swung stiffly inwards.
‘What did you do?’ asked David.
‘I unlocked it from the inside last time I was here. Come in.’
They shut the door quietly and made their way through the house and down into the dark central area of the cellar. From there they found the trapdoor quite easily. At the bottom of the shaft, David donned his miner’s cap and adjusted the torch.
‘Pooh, that smell’s bad today!’ said Andrea, joining him.
‘Yeah. Have you brought a torch?’
‘Well, no, but I’ve made a holder for my candles, so the wax won’t drip on my hand.’
She showed him the cone-shaped object with a rim, like an upside-down witch’s hat, that she had made from cardboard; then she
fitted a new white candle into the holder and flicked her cigarette lighter.
There was a faint whoooosh, and a huge blue-tinged flame leapt up.
‘Turn it off!’ cried David, but Andrea had already snapped the lighter shut. There was an acrid smell of burning hair.
‘Is my hair on fire?’ Andrea was close to panic.
‘No, it’s not burning.’ David touched the soft thick hair that fell over her forehead. ‘Some of the ends feel kind of hard and bristly. I think it’s singed.’
‘Arrrgh! It could’ve just burst into flame!’ Andrea was a bit shaky. ‘What on earth happened?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s something to do with that smell. Let’s see if the air’s fresher in those other tunnels.’
Apart from the tunnel they had originally discovered, leading to the beach, and the locked door opposite, there were two more openings: the tunnel they had explored the day before, where Andrea had fallen into the hole, and another facing it.
‘Looks like this is the one to try,’ said David.
‘I don’t know,’ said Andrea. ‘I’d rather go back and have another look at that big cathedral cave.’
‘Let’s split up, then,’ suggested David calmly.
‘Okay.’ Andrea prepared her candle, reached for the cigarette lighter again, and hesitated.
‘Maybe I’ll have a quick look at your one first,’ she offered.
David led the way. The tunnel opened out almost immediately into a small, roundish cave with a narrow opening to one side. David flashed his torch into the opening.
‘Look, someone’s built all this,’ he whispered. The rock sides were flat, and the roof of the tunnel was shored up with massive beams.
After only a few metres they stepped into another, larger cave.
‘Eureka!’ said David.
‘Wow!’ said Andrea, reaching for her camera.
The cave was roughly rectangular, and about the size of a large room. There was a patterned rug on the floor, grey with dirt and dust, and around the walls were cupboards, bookshelves, small tables and chests of drawers. At one end, behind a Japanese screen, were two beds made up with white sheets and thick grey blankets. There was a low table between the beds. On it stood a lamp and some books and newspapers.
The Tunnels of Tarcoola Page 6