by Robin Jarvis
“Help us do what?” Spencer asked doubtfully.
“Defeat our enemy,” Eun-mi declared.
“Don’t get too excited,” Gerald cautioned. “Austerly Fellows is unassailable now. The best we can hope for is a way to help find our friends, and your sister. There has to be something in there.”
Eun-mi considered for a moment then nodded. “I get rifle,” she agreed.
“No way!” Spencer blurted. “You’re not getting your hands on a loaded weapon again! After what you just did – you should be tied up.”
The girl sneered at him. “Do it,” she invited, holding her hands out for him to dare tie together. “It only take two moves to twist and break your neck. Then I have rifle.”
Spencer jumped back in alarm. “See!” he cried. “She’s rabid! Lock her in the car! Put her in the boot or something!”
“Miss Chung!” Gerald snapped sternly. “If you want to be treated civilly, you’ll have to behave yourself. Stop trying to scare Spencer. There’s enough of that still to come without you adding to it. Now I’m probably a stupid geriatric for doing this, but… here.”
To Spencer’s dismay, he handed her one of the AK-47s. “Just remember,” the old man told her, “you need us more than we need you now. I’m trusting you with this, so stop mucking about. If we’re all going up to the house, which I still think is a bad idea, we have to keep calm and alert. Your military training will be useful.”
“How many guards?” she asked. “We must form strategy.”
Gerald shrugged. “If there were any,” he began, “I’m hoping they’ve gone down south like everyone else. But it’s not human guards we need to worry about anyway. There might be other things in that place.”
“Nice,” Spencer commented.
“I wish you’d stay here in the cab,” Gerald said.
“Not on your life. Butch and Sundance, remember?”
“We go!” Eun-mi ordered, prowling forward. “You follow. I lead!”
Gerald sighed. “And there goes Calamity Juche.”
“Or Eun-mi Oakley,” Spencer said.
Gerald managed a weak smile and they crept cautiously along the overgrown track. When the girl in front gave a shudder, they thought it was only because of the chill December air. Spencer ran a finger round his collar. For some reason it had become uncomfortably tight.
“Never thought I’d ever find myself here again,” the old man muttered, glancing into the darkness of the surrounding trees. “As kids, we were all absolutely terrified of this place. It was much more than the local spooky house. This was the real deal and it was what parents threatened you with if you misbehaved. Never mind the slipper and no presents from Father Christmas: they used to tell us we’d be brought here and left. Talk about mental cruelty; no wonder we all wet the bed till we were teenagers.”
“Why, what happened here?”
“Back in the 1920s and 30s, this was where Austerly Fellows practised all manner of hideous rites. He founded occult societies and called himself the Abbot of the Angles, amongst other titles. Stories of his depraved gatherings were known throughout the country, but he had so many powerful people under his control, he couldn’t be stopped. The nearby villagers used to bolt their doors and wear their knees out in prayer when he was in residence. They said he was a devil and they weren’t being fanciful or overly superstitious.”
He paused. Was that a girl’s mocking laughter? Eun-mi was several paces ahead and did not turn round. Her head was low and her shoulders tense; she appeared to be completely focused on her reconnaissance. So why had she laughed? She was such an odd person. He would never understand her. The North Koreans were a strange people and she more than most.
“Yes,” he continued quietly, “a place of horror to be avoided and shunned. Not even the prospect of hidden treasure could tempt us into the grounds. It was the Chernobyl of its day, in a supernatural sense.”
“Treasure?” Spencer asked, wrestling with his collar again – why was it so tight?
“Oh, yes. That last great party he gave, the night he disappeared, was filled with society’s A-list. Rumour was that they came charging out of there in such a blind panic, they fled into the trees and lost their diamonds when they stumbled. There’s some around here who still call it Sparklers Wood – or rather there were, before DJ claimed them.”
The old man took a breath and recalled his youthful fascination for that story. He had imagined necklaces, earrings and tiaras hanging from branches like tinsel and roots growing through discarded bracelets. He had never dared come and look for himself though; even passing the entrance on the lane required a stout heart. Only the bravest kids would risk a few wobbly steps up the track and thus win the respect of their peers.
“Diamonds and sapphires!” Eun-mi cooed unexpectedly.
Oh, she really is a weird fish, Gerald thought. Who’d have guessed the bright shiny beads of Western capitalism would hold any fascination for her? Or maybe she’s still laughing at us?
Suddenly Spencer coughed and the rifle dropped from his grasp. He staggered backwards, pulled to the ground by an unseen force. The Stetson fell from his head and he clawed at his throat. His collar was choking him. Gasping, he tried to cry out, but his voice was crushed. It was worse than when he was strapped to Doctor Choe’s operating table. He tore at the neck of his shirt. He could feel it constricting and squeezing. Then a violent, heaving wrench had him slithering down the track and he couldn’t stop.
Gerald rushed to help. Spencer flailed desperately and reached out for the old man’s hands.
“Let him go!” Gerald shouted at nothing, swiping the empty air behind the boy’s head. “Let him…”
His words faltered when he saw a grey, smoky shape come floating down from the darkness above, descending through the twigs and branches. It was blurred and indistinct, but he could see it was the figure of a young woman. Her head was tilted at a horrible angle and her dead eyes bulged hideously. A black, swollen tongue protruded from her gaping mouth and the rope that formed a noose round her neck disappeared up into the night. As it drew closer, the apparition stretched its hands towards them.
“Get back!” Gerald yelled, his breath forming clouds of vapour as the temperature plummeted. “In the name of God, leave us!”
Then he heard that same laughter and Eun-mi was beside them. She aimed the rifle upwards and the effect was startling. The ghastly spectre covered its gruesome face and retreated swiftly, rushing like wind-shredded mist, high into the tops of the trees.
Spencer hacked and retched, gasping to catch his breath and clinging to Gerald’s arm.
“Thank you,” the boy said when he could speak again.
“It wasn’t me,” Gerald told him. “It was our Miss Chung. Seems one look from her is enough to drive evil spirits away.”
“That’s what it was? There’s ghosts now as well?”
“After what Austerly Fellows did here, as the old song says, ‘Anything Goes’. You bet there’ll be ghosts – as well as everything else you can think of, and more besides.”
Spencer’s skin crawled. But there was no going back now. He turned to Eun-mi, but she was already striding back up the track.
“Get a wiggle on, boys!” she called to them. “We don’t have all night.”
“I don’t get it,” Spencer said. “What did she do? How did she chase that horror away?”
“No idea,” Gerald murmured, helping him to his feet and glancing warily up at the treetops before gazing suspiciously at Eun-mi’s receding figure. “But since when does she call us ‘boys’? And ‘get a wiggle on’?”
They watched as she stooped to pick up Spencer’s hat. She placed it on her head and twirled about, brandishing the assault rifle as she struck poses.
“What’s going on?” the boy hissed.
Before Gerald could answer, they heard her giggle.
“Pure Tom Mix!” she exclaimed. “What a perfect hoot!”
Spencer gripped Gerald’s arm.
<
br /> “That’s not Eun-mi,” he hissed.
The girl spun round slowly and tipped the brim of the hat back with a playful wink as she pouted. The face, the clothes belonged to the daughter of General Chung Kang-dae, but the personality that animated those familiar features was completely different.
“Of course it isn’t her, darlings,” she said, grinning wider than the girl’s face was accustomed to. “I’m bags more fun. I was going to keep you in the dark for simply ages, but I never could keep a secret. What a bluenose pill she is. I saw that the moment you motored up. Couldn’t resist slipping in to try her for size. It’s a whizz of a fit, don’t you agree? I thought the arms might be a teeny bit short to begin with, but they’re not at all; they’re rather spiff, aren’t they? And she’s got excellent pins!”
Hitching up the skirt of the North Korean uniform, she stood on tiptoe and craned her head back to inspect her calves.
“They really are the berries!” she declared, nimbly executing some old-fashioned dance steps. “I could cut a rug for hours on these.”
“Who are you?” Gerald asked sternly. “What are you?”
“Now don’t be boring, darling,” the girl said with a tut. “The wardrobe will have to be tipped though, it’s drabber than the Salvation Army, and these shoes – ugh. At first I thought she had club feet. Ghastlygaskins!”
“Where’s Eun-mi? What have you done with her?”
“Such a silly name,” the girl groaned in exasperation. “How about Anna May Wong or Shanghai Lil instead? I like that buckets better. Exotic lotus blossom of the mystic Orient.”
“She’s from North Korea. Her name is Chung Eun-mi.”
“Details, darling, petty details.”
“Let her go.”
“Don’t be tiresome – I’m only borrowing, it’s not for keepsies. She’s still in here. I haven’t hurt her, although it feels as if this face might crack. Does she never smile? How do you put up with it? There’s a rotten bump on her head – what happened there? Which of you two naughty boys clonked her one? I wouldn’t blame you, she’s frightful. I’d have pushed her off a balcony if I’d known her. Of course, one didn’t socialise with people of her sort – might have been a hoot though.”
Chuckling, she approached them, arms outstretched.
“Divino to meet you,” she greeted them enthusiastically. “Estelle Winyard, dead spinster of no particular parish since 1936 – oh, corks, that makes me sound positively ancient and fossilised. I’m not at all really, honest injun. Have you heard of me? Daddy is quite a big noise – or was, I should say. It’s been a while since that Fellows beast fried the life out of me.”
Embracing Spencer warmly, she planted a flamboyant kiss on both his cheeks. The boy recoiled. It was more than disconcerting to be squeezed by the usually stony-faced and emotionless Eun-mi. Even if it wasn’t her actually doing it, they were still her arms, still her lips.
“Now I know your names,” she gushed, tapping her temple. “There’s a bit of osmosis going on in here. You’re Spencer, the Wild West aficionado, aren’t you? I used to have a pash for Gary Cooper, though I preferred parties and sin to movies. I only sneaked in to see what the servants were gassing about the whole time and a strange man touched my knee in the dark. I stuck a hatpin in him where it would hurt most and he screamed all the way through Donald Duck. Would you believe I was the one the usherette threw out? Outrageous! Oh, please let me keep this hat a ickle while longer; you will, won’t you? I always looked stunning in chapeaux. I got banned from Ascot in my last summer, lost a bundle on Alcazar in the Gold Cup, so I scandalised the Jockey Club and gave three gee-gees the shock of their lives – such larks! You are a pet!”
Turning to Gerald, she lifted one foot off the ground as she hugged him tightly. “She’s got such jumbled thoughts about you,” she announced. “You think Shanghai Lil’s a puzzler? You’re the jolly old Times crossword to her. First she hates you, then she respects you. It’s all very mixed up in here, and then there’s the big barred and bolted door, holding back the memories she’s shut away, but now they’re starting to seep out. There’s one of a cherished grandfather being hauled off to a labour camp, which is frightfully grim. Sometimes she confuses you with him. She’s a heck of a mess, to be frank, and that door is creaking and buckling under the strain. When it finally bursts open, heaven knows what will happen to her, or what she’ll do. And on top of all that, of course, there’s the hold-the-front-page business about her father – not to mention that gruesome red piano when she was a girl—”
“I don’t want to know,” Gerald interrupted. “Thoughts like that should be private.”
“Not according to Pater; he was a newspaperman – tycoon really. His motto was print the personal peculiar.”
“Sounds like a muckraking hack. I’ve met plenty of them. Now have you had your fun? Give us back Eun-mi.”
“Er… do we have to have her back?” Spencer spoke up. “This one’s much nicer.”
“There!” Estelle gurgled. “Didn’t I say so? What would you want misery guts back for? She’ll turn on you the first chance she gets, you know. She’s already planning her next double cross.”
“She’s a rattlesnake,” Spencer agreed.
“Anyway, you want to poke about in the house, don’t you? Well, you’ll never get through the front door of that doomy old mausoleum without my help. I can be your tour guide!”
“Makes sense,” the boy said to Gerald.
“None of this makes any sense,” Gerald countered. “Why should this disembodied… thing help us?”
“‘Thing’? How ungallant and dreary of you. Listen, darling, if I can get back at AF in any way I can then that’s good gravy. Don’t look a gift gee-gee in the mouth, specially one with bows on. Consider yourself bally lucky I took a shine to Shanghai Lil, otherwise something very nasty would have pounced by now and you’d be so much party food – devilled ham, most probably.”
“She has just saved me from getting strangled,” Spencer reminded him.
“We don’t really have much choice, do we?” Gerald muttered flatly.
“Settled then!” Estelle cried. “Now stick with me and don’t wander off the path, as my dear old nanny used to say, not that I ever listened. You wouldn’t believe what lurks in those woods and it’s got far worse lately. Things that used to be no more than noises in the shadows have grown shapes – give me the absolute heebies.”
She led them up the track and Spencer shot fearful glances at the darkness under the nearby trees. He caught the glint of many eyes watching them and saw curls of grey mist move slowly over the ground. The undergrowth rustled, as unseen creatures shadowed them. But nothing leaped out or came close enough for him to see clearly and he wondered if that was because of Estelle. But why should she exert such an influence over those skulking watchers?
Then the track left the woods and Spencer beheld, for the first time, Fellows End.
The gables of Austerly Fellows’ country home reared into the winter night. It was an ugly, heavy-looking building, with an octagonal tower at one end. There was a brooding tension and hostility about it. Spencer wanted to turn and run away. Gaps in the imperfectly boarded-up windows were slits for whatever dwelt in there to stare out at them. The boy shivered.
Gerald gripped his rifle tightly, although he had no idea what use it might be in there.
Eun-mi’s face chuckled at them.
“Revolting, isn’t it?” Estelle declared. “You both look like you could use a stiff slug of gin. Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. I could murder a Singapore Sling right now – it’s been a lifetime! I don’t suppose you came prepared? No… it was too much to hope for. Bet you don’t have any ciggies either. What a pair of duds! My first time back in the flesh and I’m landed with a couple of Shirley Temples.”
Huffing with disappointment, she turned her attention back to the building. “Was there ever such an ungainly stack of unlovely bricks?” she commented. “First time I saw i
t, I wanted to get as far away as possible – if only I had. You quite sure you want to go inside?”
“Not remotely,” Gerald answered. “But we have to.”
“Come on then, boys – let’s drop in and see what’s cooking.”
“Wait, is it empty?”
“It’s never been empty,” she told him darkly. “Even before AF came here as a young monster, there was always something. Maybe it was waiting for him; maybe that’s why he came here. I don’t know. I don’t ask those sorts of questions. I don’t want to know those answers.”
The driveway had benefited from recent attention. Trees that had grown up in the centre had been uprooted and the holes filled in. Fresh gravel had been strewn down and deep tyre tracks showed that a truck had been a recent visitor.
The possessed girl went crunching across and approached the front door that was wide open. Spencer had the feeling it had opened specially for them and he wished he’d stayed in the car after all.
Skipping up the steps, Estelle turned round and beckoned playfully.
“Don’t bother to wipe your feet,” she said. “It’s what you may have to scrape off the rest of you when you leave you should be worried about – if it lets you leave.”
Gerald turned to Spencer. “Off the cliff?” he asked.
The boy hesitated then steeled himself and nodded. “Off the cliff,” he affirmed. “For Maggie and Lee and the others.”
Together they ascended the few steps and went inside Fellows End.
It was darker inside that house than beneath the mountain in North Korea. The reek of damp and rottenness assaulted their nostrils and they closed their mouths against it. Gerald took a torch from his coat pocket and snapped it on.
There was a sense of the darkness as a tangible force being thrust back by the sudden light and the atmosphere almost crackled. Overhead timbers creaked and door after door slammed. The house was angry.
Eun-mi’s face was caught in the beam, but, for an instant, her nose looked different, pert and upturned, the eyes appeared rounder, the lips fuller and the skin pale. It was only the briefest moment, but Gerald could have sworn he was looking at a young European girl: beautiful, but spoilt.