The House on Widows Hill Read online

  ‘Stick close to us and you should be fine,’ I said. ‘I have a strong feeling this house wants its secret discovered at last.’

  ‘So now you’re having feelings?’ said Arthur.

  He braced himself and stepped through the doorway. Nothing stopped him. I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled the door shut behind us.

  SIX

  What’s in the Cellar?

  The hall was as brightly lit as it should be, open and empty and very quiet. It was trying hard to look innocent, but I wasn’t buying it. Penny and Arthur stood on either side of me, as we looked down the long hallway to the front door. I turned to Arthur.

  ‘Are you seeing anything that Penny and I might be missing? Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary?’

  Arthur shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and it still bothered me that they didn’t make a sound.

  ‘There’s nothing ordinary about Harrow House,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m not seeing anything that you’re not … but I am getting a feeling that something is waiting for us, down by the front door. Something we missed when we first arrived.’

  Penny squeezed my arm hard until I looked at her. ‘Arthur’s saying something, isn’t he? You have to keep me in the loop, Ishmael! How else can I stay on top of what’s happening? Or what seems to be happening … You know I hate being left out of things!’

  ‘Trust me,’ I said. ‘You really don’t want to hear everything he says.’

  ‘Well, there’s gratitude,’ said Arthur.

  I concentrated on Penny. ‘Arthur thinks there’s something important down by the front door.’

  ‘I already worked that out from the expression on your face when you looked at the door,’ said Penny. ‘And that was my idea, anyway!’

  ‘You see?’ I said. ‘You don’t need me to tell you everything. Just watch me closely and be guided by me in all things.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s going to happen,’ she said. ‘I need you to talk to me, Ishmael; it’s the principle of the thing!’

  ‘Oh, if it’s got down to principles, you’re in trouble,’ said Arthur. ‘A word to the wise, Ishmael: when you’re in a hole, stop digging. Even if you do eventually win the argument, she’ll still find a way to make you feel like you lost.’

  I had to smile. ‘You do know about women, after all.’

  Arthur grinned. ‘More than you do.’

  ‘This whole conversation is at my expense, isn’t it?’ said Penny.

  ‘Let’s go take a look at the front door,’ I said.

  ‘I still think we would have spotted another door when we first came in,’ said Arthur.

  ‘In this house?’ I said. ‘There could have been a doorway big enough to accommodate an elephant with a hunchback, along with a big flashing neon sign pointing straight to it, saying Secret Door Right Here! and this house could still have kept us from noticing.’

  Penny patted my arm comfortingly. ‘Keep the noise level down, darling. The point is: why would it want to?’

  ‘I think the more pertinent question is: why are we being allowed to look for it now?’ I said. ‘It’s always possible that we are being lured into a trap.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ said Penny. ‘And anyway, I like traps. You know where you are, then. And it’s always such fun breaking out of them.’

  ‘She’s very confident, isn’t she?’ said Arthur.

  I gestured at the open hallway. ‘Since you see and feel so much, and because you are already mortally challenged, Arthur, you can lead the way.’

  He scowled. ‘Why did I just know you were going to say that?’

  ‘Maybe you’re psychic, as well as a ghost,’ I said.

  ‘I loathe you more than words can say,’ said Arthur.

  He set off down the hall, his feet making no sound at all on the bare wooden floorboards. Penny and I strolled after him, keeping a cautious watch on our surroundings. Halfway down the hall I stopped suddenly, and Penny stopped with me. Arthur carried on for a few moments before realizing he was on his own, and then he came hurrying back to join us.

  ‘What?’ he said loudly. ‘What’s happened and why didn’t I notice it? Should I be worried? I mean, more than usual.’

  I gestured at the door to the right-hand room. ‘I saw Tom go in there … but I’m not hearing anything from inside that room.’

  ‘Well, that’s hardly surprising, is it?’ said Arthur. ‘The door’s shut. Even though he said he’d leave it open. He must be shyer than he thought.’

  ‘I should still be able to hear him,’ I said. ‘Even with the door closed.’

  ‘Seriously?’ said Arthur.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Ishmael could hear a fish fart in a fountain,’ Penny said proudly.

  ‘How often does that come in handy?’ said Arthur.

  I moved right up to the door, pressed my face against the jamb and sniffed deeply.

  ‘OK …’ said Arthur. ‘You are seriously creeping me out now. Why do you need to smell him? And how could you anyway, through a crack in the door?’

  ‘I’m very well trained,’ I said, not looking around. ‘Or part bloodhound. Choose whichever explanation makes you feel easier.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘My keen journalistic instincts are telling me there is something seriously out of the ordinary about you, Ishmael … That you are almost certainly not going to explain to me.’

  ‘Got it in one,’ I said. I pressed my ear against the door. ‘I can’t hear him moving about. Can’t hear him breathing, or the rustling of his clothes.’

  Arthur stared determinedly off into the distance. ‘Not going to ask …’

  ‘And I’m not smelling even a hint of piss.’

  ‘Not listening, la la la …’

  ‘Could something have happened to Tom?’ said Penny. ‘Perhaps he’s collapsed, as well.’

  ‘You think he might be a ghost now?’ said Arthur. ‘I’m not sure how I feel about that. It would be nice to have someone else to talk to, but did it have to be him?’

  ‘We’d better check this out,’ I said. ‘I’ll only worry otherwise.’

  ‘What if he still has … matters in hand?’ said Arthur.

  ‘He hasn’t,’ I said. ‘I’d know.’

  ‘You’re weird,’ said Arthur.

  I opened the door and strode into the room, with Penny at my side and Arthur reluctantly bringing up the rear, if only because he didn’t want to be left alone out in the hall. The room was completely empty, apart from the various bits of furniture lurking under dust sheets. There was no sign of Tom anywhere. I could only be sure he’d come into the room because the light was still on, and because his empty water bottle was standing on a dusty side table.

  ‘Where is he?’ said Penny, peering quickly about her. ‘There’s no other door, no window … nowhere he could have gone. Did the house disappear him?’

  ‘Hardly,’ Arthur said smugly. ‘Look at the floor.’

  A single set of footprints showed clearly in the thick layer of dust, leading all the way to the furthest wall and then stopping abruptly. As though Tom had walked right through it. I pointed the trail out to Penny, and she nodded slowly.

  ‘Now, that really is spooky. Have we got another ghost on our hands?’

  ‘I think we’re looking at sneaky, rather than spooky,’ said Arthur. ‘There’s a sliding panel in that wall, giving access to a secret hiding place. I told you: treasure-seekers have been all over this house for decades. So many they were practically tripping over each other for a while. This particular secret panel hasn’t been a secret for ages.’ And then he stopped and scowled thoughtfully at the wall. ‘Except … It’s been so long since any treasure-seekers came poking around here that maybe the secret’s so old it’s new again.’

  I followed the footsteps to where they stopped right before the wall, and then leaned forward to study the wood panelling. Delicately carved scrollwork decorated each panel, all but invisible under the thick layers of dust. Penny moved in b
eside me and lowered her voice.

  ‘Do you think Tom is hiding somewhere inside the wall?’

  ‘I know he is,’ I said. ‘I can hear him breathing.’ I looked back at Arthur. ‘What is there, behind this panel?’

  ‘Just a small concealed space,’ he said. ‘No telling what it was originally intended for – most likely things Malcolm didn’t want the tax people to know about. And I think rich people just liked having secret sliding panels in their walls back in those days. Something they could show off to visitors. If there ever was anything valuable stored in that space, you can bet someone spirited it away long ago … Though I’m guessing Tom didn’t know that.’

  He stepped forward and thrust his immaterial head through the wall, right up to the shoulders. I thought about calling him back, and then had to wonder if he’d hear me. He pulled his head out and grinned at me.

  ‘Yeah, he’s in there. Standing really still and holding his breath, hoping we’ll give up and go away.’

  ‘How do you open the panel?’ I said.

  Arthur pointed to a descending row of roses on the woodwork. ‘Third from the top. Hit it hard; the mechanism’s bound to be a bit stiff.’

  I pressed the rose firmly, and a door-sized panel slid sideways, disappearing into the wall. A shocked and startled Tom stared out at us from a room not much bigger than a cupboard.

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ I said. ‘Did you really need to go to such lengths, just so you could take a leak in private?’

  ‘Ah …’ said Tom.

  ‘Get out of there,’ I said. ‘Don’t make me come in after you.’

  Tom quickly emerged, smiling weakly at me and Penny.

  ‘How did you know where to find me?’

  ‘Arthur told me about the sliding panel,’ I said. ‘The question is: what were you doing in there?’

  ‘Well, I was …’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Try again.’

  His shoulders slumped. ‘All right! I was looking for Malcolm Welles’s lost treasure. That’s the real reason I came here. I arranged to get myself picked as part of this group, over much better-qualified people, by bribing one of the estate agents to say I had special knowledge of the house and its history.’

  ‘And I thought you were all about the science,’ I said. ‘Dedicated to the search for hard evidence of the afterlife.’

  ‘I am!’ Tom said immediately. ‘Most of the time. But do you have any idea how expensive that kind of specialized equipment is? I ran through all my savings long ago, with nothing to show for it. And you have to keep upgrading your tech, or the field will leave you behind. When I heard about tonight’s investigation, I just knew Harrow House was my best hope, and my last chance. Either to find a ghost or discover treasure that could keep me going for years.

  ‘When the weird stuff started happening, I thought, Finally! This is it! And I had it all recorded, as proof. I could write a book, go on a speaking tour, maybe even get some corporate funding at last. My own television show! But then you had to go and prove that most of what we experienced wouldn’t record, and I had nothing … So all I had left was my original plan.’

  ‘What made you so sure there was still some treasure here?’ I said. ‘And how did you know about the sliding panel?’

  Tom smiled. ‘I read about the hidden wall space in a book I picked up at a ghost-hunters convention. Malcolm Welles’s original diary. The seller didn’t know what he had, but I did.’

  Arthur laughed derisively. ‘There have been any number of fake Malcolm Welles diaries down the years! For a while there, turning out copies of the diary was a thriving cottage industry. Anyone who’d done their proper research on Harrow House would have known that.’

  ‘The old-time treasure-hunters cleaned out this wall space long ago,’ I said to Tom. ‘According to Arthur.’

  Tom shook his head slowly. ‘Typical of my luck … So, what are you going to do? I haven’t broken any laws. But if you tell anyone about this, my reputation in the ghost-chasing fraternity will be ruined.’

  Penny looked at me. ‘This isn’t what we came here for, Ishmael.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘It’s just another distraction.’ I looked sternly at Tom. ‘Go back to the far room. Give your empty water bottle to the ladies, and tell them to use it where they are. While you stand guard outside the door, like the good gentleman you are. When they’re done, you can go in and wait with them until we come back.’

  ‘What will you be doing, while we’re waiting?’ said Tom. I gave him a hard look and he actually backed away, holding up his hands defensively. ‘Right! Of course! None of my business.’

  ‘Do as you’re told and stay out of our way, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened,’ I said.

  Tom nodded quickly, grabbed his water bottle and hurried out of the room before I could change my mind. I studied the open space in the wall. The cupboard appeared to be entirely bare. I turned to Arthur.

  ‘Can you see anything of interest in there?’

  ‘Not a thing,’ said Arthur. And then he turned slowly, almost reluctantly, to stare at the door leading out into the hall. ‘But I can hear something. Like a voice, calling to me … and I think it’s getting impatient.’

  ‘Then let’s go find out what it is,’ I said.

  I led the way out of the room, and all the way down the hall to the front door. Penny strode along beside me, while Arthur slouched along in the rear. When we finally reached the door, the first thing I did was check to see if it was still locked. It was.

  ‘We’re not going anywhere,’ said Penny. ‘This house isn’t finished with us yet.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop saying things like that!’ said Arthur. ‘You’re not doing my nerves any good. Ishmael, tell her to stop saying things like that.’

  ‘It’s bad enough having to pass on your information,’ I said. ‘I’m not including your personal comments. Now concentrate, Arthur; what do you feel?’

  Almost against his will, his head turned slowly to look at the left-hand wall next to the front door. He drifted over to stand before it.

  ‘There!’ he said, pointing suddenly.

  And just like that, I was looking at a door in the wall that definitely hadn’t been there a moment before. A perfectly ordinary, real and very solid-looking door.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ said Penny.

  ‘It was here all along,’ I said. ‘We just weren’t being allowed to see it, until now.’

  Penny frowned. ‘So what’s changed since we were last here?’

  I turned to Arthur. ‘It has to be you. When we first entered the house, you were still alive. Perhaps now that you’re dead, the house can make contact through you.’

  ‘You are seriously freaking me out,’ said Arthur. ‘Are you saying the house killed me, just so it could have someone to talk to?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘One of our little group did that.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ said Arthur.

  ‘Because I pay attention,’ I said.

  Arthur let that one go. ‘Why is the house so reliant on me?’

  ‘Something to do with your family connections?’ I said. ‘Or perhaps because I can see you …’

  ‘What’s so special about you?’ said Arthur.

  ‘I don’t think Harrow House has ever encountered anyone like me,’ I said. ‘Perhaps it’s curious. Either way, it would seem that whatever’s down in the cellar wants you to bring me to it.’

  ‘You really believe something’s still alive down there, after all these years?’ said Penny.

  ‘Alien life spans,’ I said. ‘Remember?’

  ‘There’s an alien in the cellar?’ said Arthur, his voice rising.

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ I said.

  I tried the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. I rattled it so hard the door shook in its frame, but it still wouldn’t cooperate. The lock was a large and very solid steel affair.

  ‘Of course it’s locked,’ I said. ‘It would be to
o easy, otherwise.’

  ‘I thought we were invited?’ said Penny.

  ‘Maybe it can’t unlock the door,’ I said. ‘That’s why it’s still trapped down there – why it needs us … So it can finally get out and leave Harrow House.’

  ‘Letting out some unknown and probably very angry alien creature doesn’t sound like such a great idea to me,’ Penny said carefully. ‘Whatever’s down there sent Malcolm and his family screaming in horror from this house, Ishmael, back in 1889. It’s been brooding and planning ever since. And if it did kill Arthur, just so it could communicate through him …’

  ‘My word, is that the time?’ said Arthur. ‘I really must be going …’

  ‘Stand where you are,’ I said sternly.

  ‘What would you do if I didn’t?’

  ‘I could leave you alone,’ I said. ‘And then who would you have to talk to?’

  ‘Bully,’ muttered Arthur.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Blame it on the house. Now stop being a wimp, and stick your head through that door. We need to know what’s on the other side.’

  Arthur looked at his feet, rather than at the door. ‘That really doesn’t feel like something I should do.’

  ‘Why not?’ I said. ‘It worked with the sliding panel.’

  ‘That was different,’ said Arthur. ‘There’s no telling what there might be on the other side of this door. What if I get stuck? What if something grabs hold of my head and won’t let go?’

  ‘How would they do that?’ I said reasonably.

  ‘I don’t know! That’s what’s so worrying!’

  ‘Were you like this when you were alive?’ I said. ‘I thought you were a big brave investigative reporter?’

  He scowled. ‘All I had to worry about then was editors and deadlines.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ I said.

  ‘Rest in peace, my arse,’ said Arthur. ‘I haven’t had a moment’s peace since I was forcefully shuffled off this mortal coil.’

  He stuck his head through the door and then quickly jerked it back out again.

  ‘Nothing there!’ he said, looking very relieved. ‘Just darkness.’

  ‘That isn’t necessarily a good thing,’ I said. ‘Remember the dark in the door, just before you were killed?’