The next minute he was stumbling over something lying in the wet grass.
“My torch!” he cried, picking it up and giving it a shake. “So that’s where it landed. And look, it still works!”
He shone it around, then gasped.
“What is it?” exclaimed Rose. “What’s the matter?”
Phoenix cowered beside her.
“That’s what’s the matter,” he said. “That – that thing over there…”
Rose frowned. “What thing?” she said. “All I can see is mist and sleet.”
Phoenix spun round to face her. “You can’t see it?”
Rose focused her own torch in the same place Phoenix had been pointing his.
“No,” she said. “Whatever it is, I definitely can’t see it.” She eyed her cousin. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“I’m fine,” snapped Phoenix. “Totally fine. It’s just…”
He broke off, twisting back to where he could see the pale shape now retreating into the darkness.
“Look,” he said. “I wasn’t going to tell you any of this. I thought you’d laugh at me. But you remember what you said earlier, about something freaking me out?”
Rose nodded.
“Well, you were right. Something did freak me out. A weird sort of silhouette thing. It’s been on the mound every time I’ve come over. And it’s here now, hovering just over there.”
Rose glanced around her uneasily.
“Are you telling me you’ve seen some kind of ghost?” she said.
“I don’t know,” said Phoenix. “I suppose so. I…” He stared down at the ground. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? You don’t believe in things like that?”
Rose sighed. “I’m not sure what I believe in right now. Let’s face it, if you’d asked me yesterday how likely it was that I’d find a glowing bolt underneath the floorboards, I would have thought you’d gone mad. So who’s to know what’s possible?”
She started to make her way down the side of the mound.
“But one thing’s for sure. The local people think this place is haunted. The mound especially. It says so in the guidebook I bought at the station.”
“Haunted?” echoed Phoenix, hurrying to catch her up. “Haunted by what?”
His cousin shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I think I know someone who might.”
9.
THE GARBLINGS
Dr Wainwright looked up as Phoenix sidled into the kitchen.
“What time do you call this, then? You do realize it’s gone ten o’clock?”
Phoenix sat down at the table and yawned.
“Sorry, Dad,” he said, helping himself to a slice of bread. “I must have needed the sleep. But it doesn’t matter, does it? We’re not going anywhere today.”
His father gave a long sigh.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m afraid we are. I’ve reached the end of my patience with this house. Just as soon as Rose is up and we’ve all had breakfast, we’re packing our bags and heading home.”
Phoenix gaped at him, his hand halfway to the marmalade jar.
“But Dad, we can’t!” he exclaimed. “We only got here on Sunday.”
His father raised his eyebrows. “You’ve changed your tune, haven’t you? It wasn’t so long ago you were begging me not to bring you here at all.” He shook his head. “This is no holiday, Phoenix. Surely you can see that? The weather’s terrible. The house is a wreck. We’ve got no central heating or hot water, and now there isn’t any electricity either. We can’t even make toast this morning! As for you and Rose – well, I don’t think I’ve heard you say one nice word to your poor cousin since she arrived. It doesn’t exactly make for a great atmosphere.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and the kitchen door opened.
“Hi there!” said Rose, coming round the table and drawing up a chair beside Phoenix. “Good night’s sleep?”
Phoenix stifled a grin.
“Not bad,” he said. “All things considered.” His expression darkened. “Dad says he’s had enough of this place and we’re going to leave after breakfast. Tell him we can’t, won’t you? He’s not listening to me.”
“Leave!” exclaimed Rose. “But Uncle Joel, we can’t possibly! There’s loads of things Phoenix and I want to do down here. We haven’t even started yet.”
Her uncle stared at her. “I thought you two weren’t even talking to each other. I thought…”
He sat back in his chair.
“What’s brought this on, then? Yesterday the pair of you were at daggers drawn.”
Rose glanced across at Phoenix.
“He’s not so bad really,” she said. “He just takes a bit of getting used to, that’s all.”
Phoenix elbowed his cousin beneath the table – but he was smiling. “Oh, charming!” he said. “I could say the same about you!”
Dr Wainwright folded his arms.
“Well, well,” he said. “Seems I spoke too soon. Can’t remember when I last saw a smile like that on your face, Phoenix. The company must be doing you good.”
He peered more closely at his son.
“You’re looking a bit peaky, mind. And what’s that all over your neck?”
Phoenix flushed. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a bit of dirt.” He busied himself with his breakfast. “Please let us stay a while longer, Dad. Please.”
Dr Wainwright considered for a moment.
“OK – OK,” he said at last. “I suppose we could give it another few days, if you really think you can amuse yourselves in this weather, that is. I’ve still got a ton of work to catch up on, but if I can crack on with it today I should be able to spend some proper time with you tomorrow. Take you out to a few local attractions, maybe.”
He got up from the table.
“So what are you going to do with yourselves, then?”
Phoenix eyed his cousin. “We thought we might cycle into the village. It’d be good to have a change of scene.”
“Cycle?” echoed his father. “Have you looked outside this morning?”
Rose laughed. “We’ll be fine, Uncle Joel, honestly,” she said. “We’ve got our waterproofs. And besides, the weather seems to be completely different down in the village, doesn’t it? You said so yourself. We’ll probably find it’s baking hot there.”
Dr Wainwright grunted. “Damned place,” he muttered, making for the door. “It’s really starting to get on my nerves. I’m off to put on another jumper before I freeze to death. You two have fun, and I’ll see you back here at lunchtime.”
Phoenix waited until his father had left the room, then turned to Rose.
“Well go on, then,” he said. “Hurry up with your breakfast. I want to get into the village as soon as possible.”
Rose reached for the bread. “You’re sure you don’t want us to go out and look for your angel first?”
Phoenix shook his head. “No,” he said. “That’ll just have to wait for now. I want to find out about these rumours, Rose. I want to know why people say the mound’s haunted.”
A few minutes later they were pulling on their waterproofs and racing round the side of the house. They wheeled the bikes out of the shed and pedalled up the track through the driving sleet.
At the junction with the road they skidded to a halt.
“It’s just like you said it would be!” exclaimed Phoenix. He peeled off his waterproof and shaded his eyes from the brilliant sunlight now streaming towards them. “Cold and miserable inside the grounds and boiling hot the minute you get out on to the road. How can something like that even be possible?”
Rose frowned. “Don’t ask me,” she said, tying her waterproof round her waist. “I don’t understand it any better than you. Come on, let’s get into the village.”
They set off side by side along the deserted road.
“Tell me what it said in that guidebook again,” panted Phoenix. “About the mound, I mean.”
Rose strained ag
ainst the pedals of her bike.
“Just that it’s believed to date from Anglo-Saxon times,” she said. “It’s supposed to be an ancient burial site, apparently. I guess that’s why they reckon it’s haunted. Whole thing sounds pretty strange to me. But still…”
“And what about the old man you met on the train? The one we’re going to look for now. What exactly did he say to you?”
“I can’t remember exactly,” replied Rose. “I wasn’t taking him too seriously at the time. But like I told you last night, he definitely thought Gravenhunger Manor was a bit odd. And he warned me not to go anywhere near the mound.”
“But didn’t he say why?”
“No, Phoenix, he didn’t! I’ve told you everything I can, OK? With any luck you’ll be able to ask him yourself in a minute. It can’t be more than a mile or so from here.”
They cycled on in silence and it wasn’t long before they were weaving their way through the outskirts of the village and up the crowded high street, past shops selling ice creams and inflatable dinghies and buckets and spades.
“Here we are,” said Rose, braking at last beside a bench and jumping off her bike. “This is where I saw him.”
She peered through the pub window, then checked her watch. “No one’s in there yet. It’s only quarter to eleven. We’re going to have to sit down and wait for a bit.”
“And what if he doesn’t turn up?” said Phoenix. “What if it was just a fluke you saw him here before?”
Rose rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Look on the bright side, why don’t you? He’ll be here. You’ll see.”
Phoenix shrugged.
He leaned his bike up against the wall of the pub and glanced at the row of shops.
“I’m going to get a drink while we’re waiting,” he said. “D’you want one?”
Rose nodded. “Yes, please. I’ll stay here with the bikes.”
She settled herself down on the bench and watched as Phoenix disappeared into the newsagent’s.
The next moment she was on her feet again.
Walking towards her along the high street was the old man, clutching a small tin of tobacco.
Rose hurried over.
“Excuse me!” she said. “You probably don’t remember me, but—”
“Of course I remember you!” exclaimed the old man. “How could I possibly forget! You’re the young lady who was on her way to the manor.”
He shuffled up to the pub bench and sat down.
“How are you finding it, then? Nothing wrong, I take it?”
“There’s nothing wrong at all,” said Rose. “It’s just that my cousin and I need some information and, well, we were wondering if you might be able to help us.” She looked down at him a little nervously. “You see, his family used to live at Gravenhunger Manor. That’s why we’re staying there this summer. And…”
But the old man had stopped listening.
He was gazing over her shoulder, to where Phoenix had just emerged from the newsagent’s.
“Here he is now,” said Rose, stepping forward and taking a can of drink from her cousin. “Phoenix! This is the gentleman I was telling you about. I said we’d find him, didn’t I?”
“Phoenix, hey?” muttered the old man. He glanced back at Rose. “And you say this young man’s family used to live at the manor?”
“His grandparents lived there,” replied Rose. “And his mother.”
The old man shook his head from side to side.
“Well, well!” he murmured. “Who would have guessed it, eh? And after all this time too.”
He struggled to his feet and stretched out his hand towards Phoenix.
“Nice to meet you, young man. I’m Bert, by the way. Bert Riley. Has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like your mother?”
Phoenix stared at him. “Are you – are you telling me you knew her?” he stammered at last.
Mr Riley sat back down and took his pipe from his pocket.
“I didn’t know her as such,” he replied. “But I certainly met her. She would have been about the same age as you, I suppose. You’re the spitting image of her, you really are.”
He prised open the tin of tobacco.
“Tell me, how’s she doing these days? Is she staying here too?”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“She…” began Phoenix.
He looked down at the ground.
Rose cleared her throat. “Actually, we’re here with Phoenix’s father. His mother – my Aunt Elvira – died earlier this year.”
Mr Riley frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I should have liked to have met her again. In happier circumstances, you understand.”
Phoenix glanced up. “Happier circumstances?”
The old man began to fill his pipe. “I met your mother just the once, you see. I met her on the day it happened.”
“On the day what happened?”
“The accident, of course.”
“Accident? What accident?”
Mr Riley gawped at Phoenix. “You mean she never told you about it?”
Phoenix shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed upon the old man.
“I didn’t even know Gravenhunger Manor existed until a couple of days ago,” he said. “It seems – well, it seems my mum had a few secrets from me and my dad. Can you tell me what happened, please? I want to know. I need to know.”
Mr Riley lit his pipe and leaned back against the bench. “Secrets, eh?” he murmured. “Dangerous things, in my opinion. Always come out in the end, one way or another.” He gestured to Phoenix and Rose to sit down beside him.
“It was thirty years ago,” he said. “Thirty years ago this spring. We’d just come back from the morning catch. Beautiful day it was. Calm sea. Blue sky. Not a bad haul either, if I remember rightly. Plenty of crabs and lobsters. We’d unloaded the boat and some of us had decided to head to the café for breakfast. It was then that we saw the crowd outside the police station. Half the village was there. We asked what was going on and they told us someone had gone missing up at the manor. A young boy.”
“A boy?” echoed Phoenix.
Mr Riley nodded. “It was Lorenzo. Your mother’s younger brother.”
Phoenix froze. “But my mother didn’t have a brother…”
“Oh yes, she did,” said the old man briskly. “Six years old, he was. He and the rest of the family had moved in several weeks earlier. Not that we’d seen much of them, mind. Kept themselves to themselves. Weren’t what you’d call the mixing type.”
The colour had drained from Phoenix’s face.
“Anyway, the police were putting together a search party and I offered to come along and lend a hand.”
There was a pause while Mr Riley took a long draw of his pipe and blew out a perfect circle of smoke, which hung for a moment above their heads before disappearing to nothing.
“The first thing I noticed when we got to the manor was the weather. Remember what I said it was like that day down in the village? Cloudless blue sky and everything? Well, it wasn’t like that up there. There’d been a storm earlier on, apparently, and though the worst of it had passed, it was still pouring with rain when we arrived. It was cold too. Most of us had come in our shirtsleeves, and it wasn’t long before we were freezing half to death.”
The old man gave a wry smile.
“Of course, these days Gravenhunger Manor is famous for its bad weather. There’s always a blooming rain cloud hanging over the place. Mrs Pugh from the baker’s used to go up there once in a while to keep an eye on it. Only person brave enough to do the job, but even she went armed with a brolly. More to ward off evil spirits than the rain, I reckon.”
Phoenix and Rose exchanged glances.
“In any case, the parents were in the front room talking to the sergeant, and your mother – Elvira – was with them. All pale and frightened-looking, she was. She said that she and her brother had been playing a game of hide-and-seek inside the house. It had been Lorenzo�
��s turn to hide, but after she’d finished counting she couldn’t find him anywhere. She went to tell her mother and when she couldn’t find the boy either she’d phoned her husband at work and the police had been called. They’d checked to see if any of his belongings had gone missing with him: his little red tricycle, his piggy bank, that sort of thing. And that’s when they discovered his toy boat had disappeared. There was talk he might have disobeyed his parents and gone off to sail it by himself, though the river had already been checked several times and there was no sign of him down there.”
Mr Riley shook his head gravely.
“The police decided we should split up and search everywhere again,” he continued. “Some people were given the task of checking the house, while the rest of us went outside to scour the grounds. I was asked to cover the area beyond the river.”
He sucked hard on his pipe.
“I didn’t like doing it, of course. I didn’t like doing it one bit. You can’t live in Gravenhunger all your life without knowing that somewhere between the river and the sea stands the mound, and I didn’t want to go anywhere near it. But those were my instructions, and I could scarcely let everyone down.”
“But why were you so afraid to go near it?” asked Rose, one eye on Phoenix.
Mr Riley stared at her. “Because of the garblings, of course,” he said.
“The garblings?”
“Village talk, young lady. Folklore. Legend. Call it what you will. Age-old tales warning the inhabitants of Gravenhunger to keep away from the ancient mound in the grounds of the manor.”
“But why?” asked Phoenix.
“Everyone has their own story to tell,” replied Mr Riley, shrugging. “There’s tales of hundreds of men swarming around up there in days gone by, shouting and singing and carrying fiery torches. There’s some say there’s treasure buried beneath the mound. Others who claim it’s a burial ground. But whoever you listen to, there’s one thing they all agree on.”
“And – and what’s that?”
Mr Riley leaned forward.
“It’s cursed, young man. Haunted. It’s not a place to be, all right? Not a place to meddle with.”
He narrowed his eyes at Phoenix.
“And it’s definitely not a place for children.”
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