But not tomorrow.
50: FRIDAY
Eve took the breakfast bowls and mugs out of the hot soapy water and left them on the draining board to dry. She looked out the window at the habitually dismal day. Would this rain never stop? Sighing, she stripped off the rubber gloves and dropped them on the other side of the sink, then emptied the suds into the drain. Loren, disgruntled with tiredness, had finally gone off to school, while Cally, unusually for her, was still upstairs asleep. It would have been a shame to wake her, so worn was she last night; best to let her sleep it out.
Eve realized she would have to do a small shop this morning, just some fresh food for the weekend, but Gabe was in his makeshift office, so he could listen out for Cally. He had told Eve that he thought he’d cracked Seapower’s maintenance problem – something about using a telescopic hydraulic pole, its jack on the seabed, instead of a crane fixed to a surface vessel – a boat, he meant – to bring up the marine turbine’s below-the-waterline machinery for maintenance work. In a way, she hoped he hadn’t found the solution, because if he had, then it wouldn’t matter so much if the family returned to London. Gabe could make solo trips to Devon when required.
Contrarily, Eve wasn’t ready to abandon Crickley Hall too soon, despite having been scared witless last night. Cam knew she was here, that was all that mattered. He had reached out – consciously or subconsciously, it wasn’t important which – from wherever he was being held and had finally found her here. Although Gabe said if there really was some kind of telepathy involved it didn’t matter where she might be physically, Eve wasn’t sure and was not about to take a chance, not at this stage, not when the contact felt so close. Even now she could feel Cam’s presence. She knew beyond all doubt that her son was trying to communicate with her. Hadn’t he soothed her brow on Sunday with his little soft hand, hadn’t his goodness, his purity, forced the dark horrid thing to go away?
Lili Peel could be the intermediary. Eve had to get the psychic to help her again. Cam’s message could be channelled through her. Eve took Lili’s card from the parka hanging up beside the kitchen door and went out into the hall.
She tapped out the number on the old phone. It took six rings before Lili picked up.
‘Hello?’
‘Lili, it’s Eve Caleigh.’
‘Oh. Are you all right?’
‘Not good.’ Eve quickly told the psychic how the same black spirit whose presence had frightened them so the day before yesterday had tried to drown her in the bath last night. ‘I’m scared, Lili,’ she admitted. ‘But that’s not why I’m ringing. I want you to come back to Crickley Hall. I want you to try and contact my son again.’
‘After what happened on Wednesday?’ Lili sounded astonished – and afraid. ‘It came back for you last night, don’t you understand? It’s too dangerous, Eve, I won’t do it. I – I had a similar experience some time ago: an entity, a malevolent entity, came through unbidden. I can’t take the chance again.’
‘Lili, I need you. I know you could help me save my son if you tried. You almost reached him before.’
‘Yes, and look what manifested itself instead.’
‘But you’d be prepared this time. You could send it away, close it off from your mind.’
‘It doesn’t work that way. Once I’m in a trance I’m vulnerable, I can’t control what comes through.’
‘Then don’t go into a trance, just use your conscious mind.’
‘Don’t you see? I can’t help it sometimes, it takes me over. I just go under.’
‘I won’t let it happen, I’ll keep you awake even if I have to slap your face. But you could reach Cam without being in a half-conscious state, couldn’t you? I’m not even asking you to communicate with the dead. My son is alive, I know it! I only want you to establish a telepathic link, that’s all I’m asking. Only you can control it properly, Lili, I’m convinced of that.’
‘Your husband doesn’t want me there.’ Lili was struggling to excuse herself.
‘Gabe won’t object if it’s just one more time. I’ll talk to him and it’ll be okay. Just try once more, Lili.’
‘I’m sorry, Eve.’
‘Please. Please, Lili.’
‘You don’t know what you’re asking. Crickley Hall is filled with unrest. There’s so much wickedness, so much fear.’
‘Is it the children?’
‘Yes, their lost spirits. Something is keeping them there. They’re frightened.’
‘Have you considered it might be the dark man, the thing that terrified us both when you came here, the entity that never quite materialized that day? It was stronger last night. It froze the water and wanted to drown me.’
‘Its force is building and I don’t have the power to stop it. Something really bad is going to happen in Crickley Hall – I felt it as soon as I walked into the hall – and I don’t want to be there when it does. My advice to you is get out as soon as you can. Please take your family away from that house.’
‘We are leaving. Soon. That’s why I want one more chance.’
‘No, Eve. Not with me. I’m so sorry.’
Eve heard the connection break.
Lili stared at the small cordless phone on her desk. The shop was empty of customers so far, but business would pick up towards lunchtime. Midday Friday was always busy.
She felt awful. She had hated turning Eve down – the woman was in deep mental anguish and desperate – but Lili could not get involved: it was too dangerous. Eve didn’t understand, even though she knew there was evil in Crickley Hall. She seemed to have a blind trust in Lili’s psychic ability and an unreasonable belief that her son was still alive. It was foolish on both counts.
The truth was Lili was too afraid to return to Crickley Hall after her visit on Wednesday when she had been almost overwhelmed by fear and despair as soon as she’d entered the place. And afraid again later, when that dark thing – literally dark – had terrorized her and Eve. What might have been the consequences had not Gabe Caleigh and his daughter walked in at that point? Lili gave a little shudder at the thought.
No, she could not – she would not – go back to that house, not for Eve, not even for the children . . . She broke off her deliberations and stiffened in her chair. No, she told herself, don’t think of the children who had perished there. There was nothing she could do for their earthbound spirits! How could she stand up to the other, the malign, force that haunted the house? Eighteen months ago she had nearly been driven to a nervous breakdown by a spirit that had spontaneously manifested itself, the spectre of someone from her past, someone she had hurt badly, someone who even in discarnate form could not forget.
Lili unconsciously twisted one of her coloured wristbands. She blocked her own thoughts, wishing it were possible to discard certain memories.
The shop door opened and two people, shoulders still hunched against the rain, stumbled through. It was a welcome distraction.
It was just after eleven when Gabe heard the phone downstairs ring.
Bent over his drawing board, he muttered something nasty and snapped down the Rapidograph. He was tempted to ignore the brilling tone, but Eve was out at the harbour village store and Cally was sleeping a few doors away. He didn’t want his youngest daughter disturbed, because while she was asleep she was no bother to him and he had a lot of work to wrap up before they left Crickley Hall. Gabe almost regretted not having gone into the office that morning; but then, he supposed, there would have been even more interruptions there. He wanted to finish up his sketches this morning and deliver them that afternoon, hopefully the engineering problem solved.
With a resigned groan, he stepped down from the high stool and went to the open door. Maybe it was someone from Seapower ringing; or maybe it was his own London office, checking on his progress – he hadn’t spoken to anyone there for a whole working week.
On his way along the landing, he popped his head into Cally’s bedroom to see how she was doing. She was still sleeping soundly, her mouth
slightly open, quietly snoring through her nose. Poor mite, she had become as tired as her older sister. Getting Loren out of the door to catch the school bus this morning had been hard work for Eve.
He hurried to the stairs, now having decided to answer the phone, anxious not to miss the call. Might be important.
Crossing the hall’s stone floor in sneakers, jeans and half-sleeve sweatshirt, he grabbed the receiver from its cradle.
‘Yeah?’
‘Gabe Caleigh?’
‘Yeah.’
‘It’s DI Kim Michael.’
Gabe drew in a sharp breath. His heart didn’t know whether to sink or be elated. Instead, it became neutral. Michael was the police detective in London who had eventually, when it was assumed that Cam had been abducted, taken charge of the investigation and search.
‘Hey, Kim.’ Gabe’s voice was low and steady. He and Detective Inspector Michael had become almost friends during the long quest to find Gabe’s missing son for, although two FLOs (Family Liaison Officers) had been assigned to the family, the detective had taken a personal interest in the case, going out of his way to inform Eve and Gabe of every lead the police were following, of every reported sighting, and every disappointment when they followed them up. He would call in on Eve and Gabe regularly after duty hours, just to see how they were bearing up, encouraging them at the beginning, letting them down as gently as possible as the months went by, his sympathy genuine, unaffected by the official role he played.
‘I tried your mobile number first – I wanted to speak to you, not your wife. Couldn’t even get a tone though.’
‘Yeah,’ Gabe responded, ‘cell phones don’t seem to work in this neck of the woods.’ Then, bluntly: ‘What is it, Kim?’
The detective was equally blunt. ‘We’ve found a child’s body.’
51: THE DRIVE HOME
Gabe tried to concentrate on the road ahead as he joined the motorway that led straight into the heart of the capital. Rain lashed the windscreen, keeping the wipers busy, but when he glanced out of the side window he saw there was worse to come: huge grey-black clouds had assembled in the northeast, great over-burdened bulks that were steadily progressing across the country, portents of punishment yet to come. His mind kept wandering back to the conversation with the police detective, the same questions and the same replies repeating themselves like a script that had to be learnt.
A little over three hours ago he had been standing in the great hall, the phone shaking in his hand, while the world shrank around him. He had endeavoured to remain calm as he spoke to DI Michael.
‘Have you seen the body itself?’ he had asked the detective.
‘Yes, I have.’
‘What . . . uh, what kind of condition is it in?’
‘Gabe, come on. You don’t want to know. It’s been in the canal for along time. The pathologist reckons it’s been in the water a good few months, possibly a year.’
‘For as long as Cam’s been missing.’
Silence at the other end.
Then, Gabe: ‘Tell me, Kim.’
‘It’s badly decomposed. As you’d expect.’
Gabe had thought for a few moments, the news taking time to sink in even though he had been expecting – fearing – something like this since Cam had been gone.
‘Thing is,’ the policeman said slowly, ‘we need you to ID.’ More quickly: ‘You don’t have to see the body, Gabe, you could just identify the clothes. They’re worn and ragged, and the colours are faded, but you should be able to recognize them. The shoes are gone. Eve gave a fair description of what Cameron was wearing the day he disappeared, so no doubt you’ll know yourself.’
Of course he’d fucking know: he was there when Eve described the clothes to the police for about the hundredth time. He remembered getting the phone call at the office, Eve too distraught to make it herself, a WPC doing it for her. The fast drive home to be with Eve, hoping, praying – he had more faith in God back then – that they would have found his little boy by the time he reached the house. The panic in Eve’s eyes, her body-rattling weeping, throwing herself into his arms the moment he walked through the door. Yes, he remembered – that day was seared into his brain.
‘Look, Gabe,’ DI Michael had said this morning almost exactly a year later,’ I don’t think you should bring your wife with you. Come on your own, will you?’
‘She’s gonna want to be there.’
‘My firm advice is that you don’t let her. Your son or not, either way, it would be too distressing for her. I don’t think she needs to be put through an ordeal like this.’
‘Okay. You’re right. Someone has to look after Cally anyway – we can’t drag her all the way back to London. And Loren’s at school, she doesn’t get home ’til around four. I’ll make Eve see sense.’ His shoulders were hunched and he consciously forced them to relax.’ Eve’s out, but she’ll be back any minute. When I’ve told her, I’ll be on my way. Look, just to be certain, you’re talking about the canal that runs past the park, right?’
‘Afraid so. The body was trapped a mile or so further on, which was why the divers found nothing when they searched before.’
‘You say trapped?’
‘Yes, it was inside an old pram – one of those big perambulators – someone had dumped in the water probably years ago. Apparently it was lying on its side among a lot of other junk on the canal bed. There’s a council estate along that stretch and residents have been dumping stuff for years. Yesterday, the Underwater Search Unit was searching the area because a local known villain was seen tossing a gun over the canal wall as he was being chased by uniformed cops.’
So, the body had been discovered by chance. Gabe suppressed any cynicism he felt.
‘Kim,’ he said quietly. ‘What do you think?’
‘I can’t lie to you, Gabe, but it looks bad for you. The clothes—’
‘Okay. Where do I meet you?’
‘At the mortuary.’ The detective gave Gabe the address as well as the mortuary’s phone number in case he got lost. ‘You’ve got my mobile number, so ring me when you’re approaching London. It’ll give me time to get there before you.’
Gabe had hung up. Cally was at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes with her knuckles as she looked down at him.
Surprisingly, when Eve had returned from the harbour village she had taken the news calmly; perhaps it was because she was almost totally drained, had little more emotion left. Also surprisingly, she had agreed to stay at Crickley Hall while Gabe made the trip to London. She seemed to see the logic of remaining behind with their daughters.
Now, Gabe pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator, keeping to the outside lane, flashing his headlights at other drivers who blocked his way, forcing some to pull over into the middle lane by tailgating them.
Anxious already, Eve’s reaction made him even more so. He had feared the finding of a child’s body so close to the park where Cam had been lost would leave her broken, hysterical at least, but she had been composed, albeit a brittle type of composure. Her one condition for staying, though, was that he phone her immediately he knew whether it was the body of their son or not. She had kissed Gabe and leaned into him so that he could enfold her in his arms. That was the moment he thought she might break, but she had only trembled against him, and when he lifted her chin with the crook of his finger, she had gazed back with dulled eyes. He realized she was in shock, a numbing kind of shock. He was loath to leave her like that, but he’d had no other choice, he had to find out the truth about their son. And if it was Cam? Right now that was too painful to contemplate.
He kicked down hard on the accelerator once more to get past a lorry that was throwing up spray from the middle lane. The wet greyness of the day closed round him.
52: SECOND VISITOR
Iris ushered the visitor into Magda’s room at the nursing home.
‘There now, Magda, aren’t you the popular one? You’ve another person come to see you. That’s two mor
e than you’ve ever had since you’ve been here.’
Magda ignored the nurse’s prattling and took in the man who had entered.
Oh, she knew him. He had visited her once before, but in the other place, where they kept a person locked up all the time. But that was a long while ago and he was much younger then, a young man and not the awkward boy she used to know.
‘You can sit in the armchair, if you like.’ The blue-uniformed nurse indicated the lumpy soft chair in the corner. ‘Magda won’t move from her one unless it’s to be put to bed. Sometimes I think she’s stuck to it.’
The visitor gave Iris a genial smile before making himself comfortable in the armchair, altering its position so that it faced the elderly resident. The nurse left the room and he waited for her footsteps to recede down the corridor before speaking.
‘Hello, Magda,’ he said. ‘Do you know who I am? Do you recognize me after all this time?’
Of course she did, you fool. Maurice Stafford. Who could forget such a devoted boy?
She remained silent.
‘I came to see you a long time ago when you were in the other place. They don’t call them mental asylums any more, did you know that? But then so much has changed since we sat on that cold and wet station platform.’
When he’d left her alone and frightened, too frozen with fear to get on the train with him when it came the next morning. He never even pleaded with her. He was just gone. Gone for ever, she’d thought. But now he was back for the second time and she wondered why.
‘Won’t you speak to me? Won’t you say hello to your old friend?’
Speak? She’d not spoken a word since that day, not even when they found her alone at the station. Why should she drop her guard now?
‘Still refusing, eh, Magda? Is it a game you’re playing so you don’t have to confess? Either way it’s good, it’s very good. You can’t tell tales on your brother, can you? People would never understand why Augustus did the things he did, especially nowadays. Discipline is an old-fashioned concept.’
The Secret of Crickley Hall Page 34