The Dreables, A Merryweathers Mystery

by RA Jones

  Oz and his friends better find out...before it finds them.

  Chapter 1

  The Halloween Feast

  Oz Chambers sat in his bedroom, desperately trying to drag his thoughts back to algebra and ignore the tempting bottle of blood on his desk. He made himself look away from the crimson phial and struggled with two maths questions, before trying to get to grips with the essay on “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” he’d been dabbling with all week. He liked English and especially reading, but that didn’t make the essay any easier.

  Oz sighed heavily. It was no good. Today was proving to be a particularly hopeless homework day because he just couldn’t settle. He was simply too excited by the prospect of what was in store that evening. So instead of writing about chivalry and other knightly stuff, he found himself wondering what it would have been like to go to Cornwall with Ruff, or to Centre Parks with Ellie. Maybe, unlike him, they’d had a rip-roaring half term of thrills and spills.

  Yeah, right.

  He smiled at the thought of what they’d have to say if he confessed to feeling hard done by, shaking his head as he imagined their expressions. Ellie Messenger was Oz’s oldest friend. But unlike Oz, who was an only child, she was always complaining that she never had any time to herself, being the middle one of five. Ruff too had an older brother called Gareth (Gassy Gazzer) who was always hogging the Xbox, much to Ruff’s disgust. Given the choice, Ruff and Ellie would much rather have spent half-term week at Penwurt with Oz. They would have thought him completely mad to want to be anywhere else.

  Not that it mattered anymore because today was Saturday and they were both back from their family breaks and due over at Oz’s in just a few hours’ time. He felt a thrill of eager anticipation course through him. The three of them were going to be spending the whole night together on this, the last Saturday of half term. But today was not just the last weekend of the holidays, it was also the thirty-first of October and he, Ellie and Ruff had big plans for Halloween. After all, he did happen to live in the oldest house in Seabourne and rumour had it that it was well and truly haunted.

  Oz opened a window, sniffed the damp autumn air and felt a goose-pimply tingle flow through him. He smiled. On a day like this and in a house like Penwurt, absolutely anything could happen.

  ~~~~~

  A quarter of an hour later Oz gave up completely on the essay, grabbed the bloody phial off the desk and went to the bathroom. He had a quick shower, towelled himself dry and positioned himself in front of the steamy bathroom mirror. His uncombed dark hair lay flat and damp on his head and his pale blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he opened the phial and tipped it gingerly towards his lips, letting a few droplets trickle under the corner of his mouth. The blood looked thin and watery and altogether not worth the money he’d paid for it. He wiped it off in disgust and opted instead for a scar under his left eye, stuck a yellow-headed boil on the side of his nose for luck and went back to his bedroom. He dressed, tidied away his schoolbooks and then went downstairs and tried to watch some TV. By the time Ruff finally pitched up, complete with paint-flecked hair and a battered backpack, it was late afternoon.

  “Good week?” Oz asked as Ruff threw himself down on the bed in the spare room.

  “Terrific,” Ruff said in a flat tone that implied it had been anything but. As usual, a curtain of curly brown hair hung in spirals in front of Ruff’s long face and partly hid a strong nose, which was, at this moment, wrinkling in disgust. “Wasn’t much of a holiday to be honest. Dad got the job of painting the chalets at this place on the edge of a moor and it was fuh-freezing. Bet you didn’t know Cornwall was in the Arctic Circle, did you?”

  “It isn’t, “ Oz said.

  “Felt like it. It was buzzard cold, I tell you.”

  Oz grinned. Ruff was the only person he knew that used the same word to describe something as brilliant or awful. In fact, Ruff used “buzzard” to describe just about everything.

  “Mum’s gone bananas over the food as usual,” Oz explained as they shared a piece of the chocolate Ruff had brought for emergencies. “She’s made mini pizzas in the shape of witch’s hats, freaky finger biscuits with almonds for nails and strawberry jam filling so they look like they’ve been chopped off at the knuckle, and Dracula knows what else. I think she’s looking forward to it more than I am.”

  “Buzzard,” Ruff said, grinning and showing Oz his chocolate-covered teeth.

  “By the way, you haven’t said anything about my massive boil.” Oz stuck his nose out at Ruff.

  “Can’t see anything different,” Ruff said, and ducked as an Oz-launched cushion sailed just past his left ear.

  When they went down to the kitchen at six to announce that they were going out to watch the little kids trick-or-treating, the table was already laden with platters covered by a motley selection of tea towels.

  “Oz, is that you?” A disembodied voice floated out from a mudroom off the kitchen, followed a moment later by a slightly flushed face. Gwen Chambers was the prettiest woman Oz knew, even if he was very biased, and even if there were a few more lines around her eyes than there used to be. Sometimes there’d be dark smudges there as well. But even though Oz noticed, no one else seemed to and they were appearing much less often these days. A stray blond wisp had escaped the scrunch that was holding her hair away from her face. It hung fetchingly over one eye and she blew it away with the corner of her mouth and smiled.

  “Mum, who is going to eat all this stuff?” Oz asked, laughing.

  ”Oh, it’ll get used up, you’ll see,” Mrs Chambers said. “I’ve seen Ruff eat, don’t forget.” And then she added in a voice just loud enough to be heard, “And that’s a sight one does not forget very easily.”

  “Mu-um,” Oz chided her.

  “Just a little joke.” She beamed at Ruff. “Let’s just say that I’ll be surprised if there’s a lot left over by this time tomorrow.” She fetched a spoon and started stirring a pot on the stove.

  They left her to it and went outside to check out the trick-or-treaters. They played spot the vampire but gave up after counting twenty in three minutes. There was a mixture of monsters and ghouls, a couple of Frankensteins, three Spider-men and a whole coven of witches. They saw only one house that had been egged and floured and passed two with signs on the gates that said, “No Trick or Treating here. Gone OUT.” But after half an hour of being pestered by three-foot-high Draculas they got fed up and went back to Oz’s place to wait for Ellie. As they stood waiting to cross the street, Ruff looked up at Oz’s house and cooed admiringly.

  “I’ve got to say it, your place is buzzard wicked, Oz.”

  Oz followed his gaze and had to agree. Much bigger than the Chambers either needed or could really afford, it was like something out of a medieval story book with its high turrets jutting out of the walls on all four corners. His dad had called these turrets bartizans, but despite their weird name Oz thought they were brilliant; it made it look like there might be archers up there on watch, guarding the place from attack.

  Oz even liked its colour; red, brown and yellow sandstone blocks, some stained dark from years of car fumes and dirt, others – sheltered from the elements – a deep russet, or a mellow ochre. A low stone wall topped by black wrought-iron fencing marked the border between the house and the pavement. It added to the feeling Oz quite often had that somehow Penwurt was a fortification: a place where, once inside, you were shielded from the outside world and all its dangers. An iron gate led to a path that crossed the drive to a huge oak-studded front door. This was set back between two forward-jutting wings in which five large mullioned windows faced the street. Behind the U-shaped front was the oldest part of the house; a long, three-story block with crenellated parapets, three tall spindly chimneys and high windows. A tarmac drive ran up one side, whilst the other hid a slightly overgrown, but quite secluded, walled garden.

  His dad had talked of plans to renovate the old block and maybe let it as flats, but those plans had long bee
n shelved. Instead, his mother double-locked the inside doors to the old part of the house and checked them every night, both downstairs and up. She made a point of never going through those doors if she could help it because, unlike Oz’s dad for whom the oldest part was a treasure trove of secrets and delights, all it did for his mother was give her the heebie-jeebies. And although post would get to it if the letters had a simple “No 2 Magnus Street” on the envelope, everyone knew the old property by the name written in black iron letters over the front door: Penwurt.

  “Yeah,” Oz said, smiling in reply to Ruff’s statement. “It is buzzard wicked, isn’t it.”

  ~~~~~

  Ellie finally arrived at eight and, as soon as she had dumped her stuff in a room next to Mrs Chambers’, announced that she was “well starving.” In the kitchen, there seemed to be even more food than two hours before.

  “I thought you should have the pumpkin soup here since it’s hot,” Mrs Chambers said. “Then you can take the rest through.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” Oz said as his mother ladled out the steaming broth. He watched her fussing and smiled. She was almost back to her normal, over-the-top self and he wasn’t going to complain about that.

  “This is amazing,” Ellie said, shutting her eyes ecstatically and breathing in the aroma.

  “Buzzard,” was Ruff’s contribution, but it emerged through a mouthful of crusty bread and came out as “buhdduh,” which made Ellie start to giggle.

  “You know that any time you’ve had enough tonight just call me and I’ll come and get you,” Mrs Chambers said with feeling as she cut more bread.

  “Mum, we’re going to be twenty yards away.” Oz had been through all this with her a hundred times. It had taken ages to convince her to let them stay the night in the old block and now was not the time for her to start having cold feet.

  “I know that, but all I’m saying is...”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “Oh-kay,” Mrs Chambers said, making her eyes wide in an I’ve-got-the-message kind of way and starting to pull the tea towels off the things she’d made. The reveal immediately triggered a series of astonished oohs and aahs from everyone.

  “Is that really brain pâté?” asked Ellie, goggling at a pink mass which looked exactly like it had just come out of someone’s skull. Her honey-coloured hair was tied back and her large deep blue eyes were currently twice as big as usual from staring at the food.

  “Cream cheese, mushroom soup and prawns. Bit garish looking but it tastes fantastic, even if I say so myself,” Mrs Chambers explained.

  Ruff pointed to a tray covered in golf ball-sized objects. “And are those...”

  “Marshmallow eyeballs.” Mrs Chambers nodded and popped one into her mouth. “Delicious.”

  Ruff grinned and popped one in himself. Oz watched his face dissolve in rapture.

  “Mmmm, see just what you mean.”

  “That’s awful,” Ellie said, groaning.

  “Eyeful, more like,” Oz said, pushing away his empty soup bowl. “Come on, grab a sleeping bag and let’s go through.”

  Oz went to a door to the left of the stone stairwell that was usually kept locked.

  But not tonight.

  They crossed a passageway to another door, which opened out into a large, shabby-looking entrance hall with a massive double staircase leading up to the floor above. The place smelled musty and unused and their voices echoed into the chilly emptiness when they spoke.

  “This atrium used to be the orphanage dining room,” Oz announced.

  “Is this where we’re having the feast?” Ellie asked, sounding impressed.

  “No. I thought we’d use the old dorm. It’s really spooky in there.”

  “I’ve always wanted to spend a Halloween night in a real haunted house,” Ruff said, rubbing his hands together. “It’s going to be so buzzard.”

  “Don’t build your hopes up,” Ellie said. “Nine times out of ten these things end up being rubbish.”

  “Nothing like a bit of enthusiasm, is there,” Ruff tutted. “And anyway, the place is a legend. It was even in “Hidden Haunted Houses of Great Britain.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Oz said.

  “Ye-ah, it was in the reference section in Waterstone’s the other day. It said something like...an old orphanage on Magnus Street in Seabourne now occupies the site of the Bunthorpe Encounter. One of the most famous supernatural occurrences in the country.”

  “Cool,” Oz said, sounding pleased. “I’ll google it later.”

  “Looks more real in a book though somehow, don’t you think?” Ellie said.

  Oz knew what she meant. He made a mental note to look it up next time he was in the bookshop. They walked up the stairs and passed a peculiar-looking wrought-iron chandelier with a huge bird of prey with its wings unfurled at its centre.

  “That is so weirdly mingin’,” Ruff said. He kept glancing at it uneasily as he climbed and Oz resisted the urge to say “buzzard” with the utmost of difficulty.

  On the first floor, the doors had all been boarded up except for one, which, though not boarded, was padlocked. Oz took them up one more flight to the second floor, where another stairway ran up to their left to another door.

  “Where does that go?” asked Ellie.

  “Firescape,” Oz explained. “Quickest way down.”

  “Worth knowing for when the mad axe-man calls,” she said with a furtive look at Ruff, who had glanced nervously behind him on hearing the words “axe-man.”

  Oz walked forward a few steps along the landing and stopped before a huge oak door. He pushed it open and, as if on queue, it creaked magnificently. They stepped across the threshold into a large, dark space. Ruff tried the wall switch but nothing happened. The only light came from thin beams of moonlight slanting through the windows on the eastern wall. Oz flicked on his torch and made his way to the centre of the dorm. He pushed a couple of plugs into extension leads and instantly the lamps he’d arranged lit up the dormitory. What was revealed was a room that spanned the length of the building. Yards of oak paneling lined the walls upon which hung a variety of old paintings and photos. Long dusty strings of cobweb wafted in the draughty corners, adding nicely to the room’s eerie air of abandonment.

  “Take a look at this, “ Ellie called to the other two as she peered at one of the photos. The boys joined her and stared at a faded black and white print of the very room they were standing in, but lined with twenty-two beds just like an old hospital ward. “Must be what the dorm was like.”

  “Wow,” Ruff said. “Not exactly private, was it?”

  In the centre, near the lamps, Oz had laid out three folding chairs and two foldaway tables, one bearing a flat-screen monitor and his Xbox.

  “There’s a toilet block at the far end,” Oz explained. “The lights do work in there, just in case you were wondering.”

  Ruff stood surveying his surroundings open-mouthed. “This is absolutely buzzard,” he said, grinning.

  “What films have you got?” Ellie asked.

  “‘Fangman’ and ‘Revenge of Fangman,’” Oz said,

  “I brought ‘Toy Story.’”

  “‘Toy Story’?” Oz laughed.

  “Just in case we need cheering up,” Ellie explained. “You know how nervy Ruff gets.”

  “Hang on, I thought you were the one that said that Halloween was a load of cobblers.” Oz grinned.

  “Yeah, but I suppose if anything could happen on Halloween it’d happen in a place like this, wouldn’t it?”

  “Hey, look at the ceiling.” Ruff craned his neck upwards and Ellie followed suit.

  Richly decorated wooden beams ran from east to west, red, green and blue chevrons adorning their sides. Between, on the plaster ceiling itself, detailed paintings of birds and weird-looking buildings and symbols filled the space. The effect was striking and original.

  “Yeah, downstairs is like that too,” Oz explained in a matter-of-fact way. “It’s the sixteenth-century equivalent
of wallpaper, or so my dad told me.”

  “It’s so cool,” Ellie said. “And to think it’s lasted all that time.”

  Oz nodded. He’d hoped they’d like the place, but to see them both so impressed had made his day. “Come on, let’s get the food up here.”

  With the heaters on it was quite cozy within their little den. They sprayed on a few more boils and let fake blood drip off their stuck-on scars, but soon Ruff had “Fangman” up on the screen and they began tucking in to Mrs Chambers’ brilliant food. Ellie enjoyed dipping spoon-shaped bits of bread into the brain pâté more than anything else, while Oz had at least half a dozen freaky fingers. Mrs Chambers had deliberately put some marzipan in their middles because she knew Oz couldn’t resist it. All in all it was a brilliant night. Ellie had them in stitches as she explained how she’d accidentally broken the nose of her kickboxing teacher the week before because he’d sneezed just as she was practising a head kick. Ruff, meanwhile, obviously deeply scarred by spending a week outdoors helping his dad paint the chalets, kept on about how cold he’d been.

  “I swear I saw a penguin on the lake and one morning there was this humongous dollop next to the perimeter fence which looked moistly fresh. I think it definitely must have been polar bear poo and not anything to do with the caretaker’s Alsatian like my dad said it was.”

  “Ugghh,” Ellie said, and quickly put down the freaky fig roll she was about to bite into.

  Oz didn’t respond because he was laughing so much. He’d known Ellie since the age of four. They’d attended the same playgroup and were in the same class at Hurley Street Junior School. Gwen and Ellie’s mum, Fay, were friends, so Oz and Ellie had virtually grown up together. He knew he could trust her with just about anything. Funnily enough, despite only knowing Ruff for the seven weeks he’d been at Seabourne County School, Oz felt much the same way about him and knew Ellie did too. And on this Halloween night, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, nor anyone else he’d rather be with.

  They’d all seen “Fangman” half a dozen times, yet when the ghoul crept in to the bedroom to steal the hero’s little sister, Oz thought he saw Ellie inch her chair a little closer to Ruff’s. “Fangman Two” was almost as good and they munched on fried spiders – which were really splayed-out bits of crispy bacon – and slurped on marshmallow eyeballs until the DVD finally came to an end.