Shiver by Alex Nye Page B

Charles’s descriptions. Now she was here before him, in all her spectral beauty. For there was something ineffably beautiful about her, something tragically sad and appealing, despite her terrible condition – the smell that clung to her clothes and hair, along with the traces of greydust and powder. Beneath it all, she was still a child.
    Samuel followed her, not knowing where she was taking him, nor why.
    Eliza lead him to the window and with a mournful expression pointed towards the family graveyard. Samuel followed the line of her gaze. The sleeve fell back from her white arm, barely-clad, revealing how mottled and pale the skin was. She must be so cold, and he had to suppress an urge to offer her his dressing-gown. Instead he looked at her and murmured, “Is that where you and your brother were buried? With the rest of your family?”
    Eliza knitted her brow in confusion. Her voice, when it came, sounded pure and clear, like a distant bell. “I cannot recall exactly, but I do not think so.”
    “Where is it then … the place where you are buried?”
    Eliza looked at him sadly, but instead of replying she pointed vaguely towards the hills.
    Samuel nodded encouragement. “Over there?”
    She sighed heavily, as if the thought were unbearably painful to her, and drifted away. Samuel watched her go, feeling a strong urge to follow.

Missing
    The fire had gone out sometime during the night and only ashes and burnt cinders remained.
    Fiona groaned and stretched herself. “That was an uncomfortable night,” she complained. “I think I prefer my own bed.”
    She slid out of her sleeping bag, muttering, “It’s so cold.”
    “The power’s still down by the looks of things,” Sebastian said, trying one of the light switches.
    “Oh great,” she sighed. “The romance is beginning to wear off. I thought it would have been back on by now.”
    She knelt down in front of the hearth and began making an effort to get another fire going. Kindling, firelighters, scrunched-up newspapers and logs.
    Granny Hughes looked in on them on her way downstairs. She grunted and shook her head. She was feeling miserable because of the cold and the extra work this would entail.
    “Hello, Granny,” Fiona called. “Did you sleep alright?”
    “Aye. Right enough.”
    “The fire was cosy.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “But the power’s still off.”
    “I noticed!” she responded. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to cook and clean under these conditions,” she muttered toherself, plodding down the stairs to begin work. The Aga ran on solid fuel, so she could keep the heat in, but ironing and vacuuming were out of the question.
    The others began rolling up their sleeping bags and tidying up.
    “Hey, where’s Samuel?” Fiona asked suddenly. She’d only just noticed he was missing.
    “Probably went downstairs to get some breakfast,” Sebastian suggested. “Can’t say I blame him. I’m starving.”
    But when they went downstairs to look, he wasn’t there either.
    “Have you seen Samuel, Granny?” Fiona asked.
    She shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
    There was absolutely no sign of him. Fiona began to worry. She turned to her brothers and whispered “Where do you think he is?”
    “I’m sure there’s no need to panic,” Sebastian said, sounding more confident than he felt. “He probably just went outside, or else he’s already back home with his mum.”
    But Charles looked doubtful. Somehow he and Fiona just knew that wasn’t the case. Both of them had met Eliza before and wondered what mischief she was capable of.
    Fiona looked anxiously at her brother. “I’m scared, Charles,” she admitted.
    “Sebastian, go next door to the cottage and see if he’s there,” Charles instructed, looking straight at his brother. “But don’t raise the alarm if he’s not. We don’t want Isabel getting worried.”
    “Come on with me, Fiona. We’ll go and look in my room. After all, that’s near their secret room,