Ghost Song by Sarah Rayne Page B

grandfather worked.
    Shona watched, seeing they were building the wall all the way up to the ceiling, seeing that this woman was going to be so well hidden no one would ever guess she was there—as Grandfather said, the wall would just look like part of the cellar. It would be horrid behind the wall: the water pipes would clank and hiss to themselves in the dark, and spiders and black beetles would come out when it was quiet and scuttle over the woman’s feet.
    It seemed to take for ever to lay the bricks in neat rows and cement them into place, but eventually they reached the ceiling. Shona watched for a bit longer, then went quietly back to bed. She could not sleep and lay awake for a long time, going over and over what she had seen. Who had she been, that woman, and why were Mother and Grandfather hiding her body?

    The really strange thing was that when Shona woke up next morning, it all seemed so unreal she was not entirely certain it had actually happened. Her mother and grandfather could surely not have put an unknown lady behind a wall and left her there in the dark. The more Shona thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. It must have been another nightmare; she would forget it and look forward to her birthday.
    But she did not forget completely. She dreamed about it, often for four or five nights in a row. Sometimes she dreamed she was in the cellar on her own, listening to her grandfather walking about the house, humming his songs as he went. For some reason this was very frightening indeed, because she knew her grandfather must not find her. But, just as his shadow appeared on the stairs, huge and terrifying in the darkness, she woke up. She was always sticky with sweat and gasping after these dreams, and once she had to get out of bed to be sick, doing it in the basin on the old-fashioned washstand because she dare not let anyone hear her going to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
    On the mornings after the dream came, her mother sometimes said at breakfast that Shona looked pale and asked if she felt all right. Shona always said she felt quite all right, thank you. Once or twice she wondered whether to tell her mother about the dream and see what she said, but she never did.
    It seemed that after all there was not to be a ninth birthday party. Her mother thought it would cause too much disruption; it would mean a lot of work, she said, and Shona’s grandfather did not really like being disturbed. Better if they just had a little celebration by themselves. Shona could have her presents and she would ask Mona Cheesewright to bake a special cake with candles. There was not much point in arguing so Shona did not bother. One day she would find a way of getting all the things her mother and grandfather were not letting her have now.
    Life at Grith was somehow different after her ninth birthday; it was quieter and Grandfather hardly ever hummed little songs to himself as he went about. He spent a lot of time shut in his study, although Shona did not think he actually studied anything there. Mother sat staring into space for hours, not saying anything and not seeming to be aware of what was around her. Quite often in the evenings she said in a rather unfamiliar voice that she would take a little nip of sherry; it was good for the digestion, sherry. When she came up to kiss Shona goodnight, the kiss smelt quite strongly of sherry. Some nights she did not come up at all and Shona knew there had been several quite big nips of sherry and maybe of whisky as well, and that her mother had fallen asleep in her chair and forgotten about the goodnight kiss.
    When Shona and her mother went away for their usual little holiday at Shona’s half term which Grandfather liked them to do each autumn on account of it giving them a rest from each other, the walks they normally took together along Robin Hood’s Bay did not happen. After lunch Mother always said she was tired, but Shona knew it was because she