saying?’
‘The House,’ he replied with a fearful shiver. ‘I’m ready to return.’
SEVENTEEN
Brighter and Braver
As with many things that induced bowel-wobbling bouts of terror, Red Brook House looked far less scary in daylight. Our last trip had resulted in a twilight flight through the
woods, the wailing girl behind us as we screamed and scrambled our way to safety. With the sun now directly overhead and a chill wind at our backs, we stood before the red-brick building eyeing it
nervously. The foreboding shadows that had shrouded it the other week were gone now, though they’d be back soon enough when the night came in. The house’s façade was crumbling,
stained green with decades of moss and lichen where the sun’s bright rays couldn’t reach. Thick tendrils of twisting ivy snaked across the walls, creeping in through the empty windows
and broken brickwork, throttling the life from the structure.
‘Can’t think why they want to pull this place down . . .’ said Dougie.
I didn’t answer him, instead approaching the stone steps that led up to the doors. I’d missed it the first time I was here, failed to recognise what could only be described as
paranormal activity. There was a tension in the air, an electrical charge that caused my ghostly body to tingle. I’d first noticed the phenomenon in the woodwork class some weeks ago, when
I’d struck out at Dougie. It had next happened when we visited my mum – twice on that occasion – a sensation that I was making a connection with the world around me. A similar
feeling presently struck me, only it wasn’t the living, breathing world I was connecting with: it was the spiritual. It was
my
world.
‘You ready for this?’ I called back.
‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Dougie replied anxiously, wrapped in his trademark parka, plus a hat and scarf in case she tried to freeze him again. ‘Let’s see if
she’s got some answers for us.’
He was brave to be returning here. For me, nervous though I was, I didn’t feel in physical danger from the phantom girl. I was already dead: could she really harm me? But for Dougie, there
was more to be afraid of.
‘Stay close,’ I said. ‘If we find her, I’ll do all the talking. If she’ll reason with anyone, hopefully it’s me.’
‘No argument here, buddy,’ he said, stepping up to the broken window to the side of the entrance and clambering up on to the sill. He jumped through, landing on the rotten floorboard
with a thump, finding me on the other side waiting for him.
The interior of the House was altogether more ruined in the cold light of day. The vines had found their way inside, rooting themselves into every exposed brick, board and beam. Paint peeled
away like blistered skin the entire length of the walls, revealing crumbling damp-soaked plaster beneath. The chandelier in the entrance hall jingled suddenly, causing both of us to jump. A pair of
birds took off, disappearing with a chorus of shrieks up into the broken ceiling, making for the daylight in a flurry of feathers.
‘What do you reckon?’ asked Dougie. ‘Upstairs? Like the other week?’
‘Seems as good a plan as any. She appeared when we started up the staircase, didn’t she?’
Side by side, boy and ghost, we set off up the steps. Dougie reached out, gingerly brushing the banister with his hand, feeling for the freezing chill that had burned him on that frightful
night. My own eyes were fixed on the landing ahead, awaiting the reappearance of the girl at any moment. My anticipation increased as each step took us higher.
Arriving on to the first floor we looked either way along the long, dusty corridors. The doors lining each passage were closed, adding to the sense of foreboding hanging over the House. There
was no sign of the girl. I turned and looked up, the curving staircase hugging the walls as it rose to the second floor.
‘This place is huge,’ I said. ‘How on earth are we supposed to find her?’
‘I
‘The House,’ he replied with a fearful shiver. ‘I’m ready to return.’
SEVENTEEN
Brighter and Braver
As with many things that induced bowel-wobbling bouts of terror, Red Brook House looked far less scary in daylight. Our last trip had resulted in a twilight flight through the
woods, the wailing girl behind us as we screamed and scrambled our way to safety. With the sun now directly overhead and a chill wind at our backs, we stood before the red-brick building eyeing it
nervously. The foreboding shadows that had shrouded it the other week were gone now, though they’d be back soon enough when the night came in. The house’s façade was crumbling,
stained green with decades of moss and lichen where the sun’s bright rays couldn’t reach. Thick tendrils of twisting ivy snaked across the walls, creeping in through the empty windows
and broken brickwork, throttling the life from the structure.
‘Can’t think why they want to pull this place down . . .’ said Dougie.
I didn’t answer him, instead approaching the stone steps that led up to the doors. I’d missed it the first time I was here, failed to recognise what could only be described as
paranormal activity. There was a tension in the air, an electrical charge that caused my ghostly body to tingle. I’d first noticed the phenomenon in the woodwork class some weeks ago, when
I’d struck out at Dougie. It had next happened when we visited my mum – twice on that occasion – a sensation that I was making a connection with the world around me. A similar
feeling presently struck me, only it wasn’t the living, breathing world I was connecting with: it was the spiritual. It was
my
world.
‘You ready for this?’ I called back.
‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Dougie replied anxiously, wrapped in his trademark parka, plus a hat and scarf in case she tried to freeze him again. ‘Let’s see if
she’s got some answers for us.’
He was brave to be returning here. For me, nervous though I was, I didn’t feel in physical danger from the phantom girl. I was already dead: could she really harm me? But for Dougie, there
was more to be afraid of.
‘Stay close,’ I said. ‘If we find her, I’ll do all the talking. If she’ll reason with anyone, hopefully it’s me.’
‘No argument here, buddy,’ he said, stepping up to the broken window to the side of the entrance and clambering up on to the sill. He jumped through, landing on the rotten floorboard
with a thump, finding me on the other side waiting for him.
The interior of the House was altogether more ruined in the cold light of day. The vines had found their way inside, rooting themselves into every exposed brick, board and beam. Paint peeled
away like blistered skin the entire length of the walls, revealing crumbling damp-soaked plaster beneath. The chandelier in the entrance hall jingled suddenly, causing both of us to jump. A pair of
birds took off, disappearing with a chorus of shrieks up into the broken ceiling, making for the daylight in a flurry of feathers.
‘What do you reckon?’ asked Dougie. ‘Upstairs? Like the other week?’
‘Seems as good a plan as any. She appeared when we started up the staircase, didn’t she?’
Side by side, boy and ghost, we set off up the steps. Dougie reached out, gingerly brushing the banister with his hand, feeling for the freezing chill that had burned him on that frightful
night. My own eyes were fixed on the landing ahead, awaiting the reappearance of the girl at any moment. My anticipation increased as each step took us higher.
Arriving on to the first floor we looked either way along the long, dusty corridors. The doors lining each passage were closed, adding to the sense of foreboding hanging over the House. There
was no sign of the girl. I turned and looked up, the curving staircase hugging the walls as it rose to the second floor.
‘This place is huge,’ I said. ‘How on earth are we supposed to find her?’
‘I
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