Malice (4 page)

I let the boys walk ahead as I wondered about Perdita, Captain Greenlowe's tragic daughter. What had happened to her?

Worn stone steps led up to a black and white marble verandah that ran around the front and sides of the house as far as we could see. We
stepped up onto it and I tested the wide front door, set between two panels of lead lighting. It was locked, but the tall window on the right of the door was slightly open and with Boges and Ryan's help, I was able to open it wide enough to climb through. I straightened up, brushed the dust from my hands and looked around. In the fading daylight, the tall windows and the grand carved fireplace set deeply in the timber panelled wall of the large front room were spell-bindingly beautiful, despite the coating of thick dust. Like the stage setting for some wonderful play.

‘Oh,' I breathed, ‘it's magical!'

‘
Was
magical,' corrected Boges, as I let the boys in the front door.

Old-fashioned wallpaper festooned the walls, some of it peeling a little, and the floorboards creaked as we walked. Dust sheets shrouded lumps that looked like armchairs and other bits of furniture.

‘Looks a bit spooky,' said Ryan.

‘I hate to break the spell,' said Boges, ‘but how come that window you got through was unlocked?'

I took a closer look at the window and stepped back, alarmed. ‘It wasn't unlocked. It's been forced open. Look. You can see where the wood's splintered here. And those look like footprints in the dust,' I said, pointing to a series of faint tracks across the room. ‘Someone's been in here quite recently.'

‘She walks!' Ryan reminded us. ‘But I didn't know ghosts left tracks … '

‘Curly?' Boges asked.

‘Could be. So why is he snooping around?'

‘Curious maybe,' suggested Boges.

After checking out the main room, we went down the hallway. The footprints petered out so that it was impossible to tell where the intruder had snooped. Maybe it
had
simply been a nosey passer-by.

We ventured into what remained of the kitchen, where a huge old-fashioned wood-burning stove stood at one end, and some battered pots and pans hung from hooks along the wall above it. The whole kitchen, like the rest of the house, was covered in layers of dust.

‘This place needs a serious clean,' I said. Past the pantry was the laundry. Off the laundry was the ancient toilet. I pulled the rusty chain and to my surprise, dirty water spluttered out in a noisy flush. ‘Hey guys,' I called to the others, ‘all mod cons here!'

We walked back through to the main staircase. ‘Let's explore upstairs,' I said.

‘Careful,' said Boges. ‘She might be walking upstairs.'

‘I'll take my chances,' I said, smiling. ‘Anyway, if she is, she should be paying me rent.' At the top of the stairs, there were several rooms that ran off the landing. Pushing open doors, we found dusty old bedrooms. Right at the end of the second floor, narrow timber stairs led up to a square room, with wide windows, bare of furniture apart from a round rug and a heavy chest which we couldn't open.

‘That's mysterious,' Ryan said.

‘Wow, you can see all the way to the town from here,' Boges said, his nose against the glass.

I went down the few steps back onto the main landing and walked up to the other end where another short set of stairs led to a similar room overlooking the sea. I stared out at the misty horizon, wondering if Perdita used to stand here waiting for Captain Greenlowe to sail back home.

The door nearest the top of the staircase hung crookedly from its hinges and I gave it a shove and walked in. This looked like the master bedroom, with a wide balcony outside the French windows. They were locked but the big old key still stood in the lock and after a few twists and turns, it unlocked with a groan and I stepped outside. The balcony overlooked the oval driveway and the front of the house. From this vantage point, I could see a thick grove that seemed impenetrable, yet there seemed to be some sort of building deep in the centre.

‘Great view,' said Boges, joining me on the balcony. He leaned forward, frowning. ‘What's that in the grove?'

‘I was just wondering that. It was probably a nice park when it was first planted. Maybe it's a summer house in the middle.'

We wandered back outside to take a better look at the grounds, walking past the grove to where the property ended at the edge of a steep cliff.

‘You wouldn't want to be stumbling around here in the dark,' said Boges.

I went further ahead and peered over. ‘Take a look at this!' Beneath us, about fifty metres down, a wide beach swept in a graceful curve to the north. ‘And look,' I said as the others came up to join me, ‘there's Curly. What's he doing down there?'

Curly seemed to be finding something very interesting in the rocks right under the cliff face beneath us.

‘Could be looking for bait,' suggested Ryan.

I wanted to go down to the beach but there wasn't enough light so we got to work setting up a makeshift dining table and chairs from crates and old bits of timber that were lying around.

‘So, why would anybody want this place so
badly?' Boges asked as we spread our goodies in front of the roaring fire we'd built. ‘It'd cost a fortune to restore—even if you pulled it down and rebuilt it.'

‘I guess it'd take hundreds of thousands of dollars to get into shape again,' I said wistfully.

I'd brought the old newspaper cutting about the Drowner with me, and we talked about it and what the thirty days might mean, but didn't get anywhere. We were on a countdown, but to what? At least I felt safer being away from the city, and from where any more dodgy detectives, or worse, criminals called the Drowner, might easily find me.

9:27 pm

‘Who wants hot chocolate?' Ryan asked, stretching as he stood up.

‘Count me in,' Boges said.

‘Me too!' I sat there curled up in the old armchair, feeling completely at home in Perdita's big room with the fireplace crackling and the company of my friends. Just one thing was missing.

‘It would be really good if Cal was here,' I said.

‘Only a few weeks,' Boges reminded me, ‘and he'll be back.' I sighed.

A horrible groaning from the hall shocked me. I sat bolt upright in my chair.

‘What was
that
?' I jumped as Boges's voice whispered in my ear.

‘Oh my God! What was that awful noise? Where is Ryan?' I cried. ‘Is he hurt?' I was halfway out of the chair when I stopped dead in my tracks. A terrifying, shrouded form loomed at the doorway, ghostly arms grasping at the air ahead of it. I screamed and Boges' face drained. The two of us stood like frozen statues.

The shrouded form suddenly threw back the mouldy sheet, and Ryan jumped out, laughing his head off.

I pounced on him. ‘You ratbag, Ryan! You scared the living daylights out of me!' Boges joined in and together we tackled Ryan down to the floor. ‘Apologise! Or you'll suffer,' I threatened him, sitting on his legs while Boges pinned him down. ‘You'll be tickled to death!'

‘Apologise … or you'll die laughing!' said Boges, tickling viciously.

‘OK, OK,' Ryan gasped, between bursts of laughter, ‘I apologise. But, man, it was so worth it! You should have seen your faces!' That set him off again.

‘Total garbage,' said Boges. ‘I knew it wasn't a real ghost.'

Ryan roared with laughter and I joined in.
‘Boges,' I reminded him, ‘your face was white as Ryan's sheet!'

I got up and dragged the old sheet that Ryan used out from under him, releasing a cloud of dust that made all of us cough and sneeze. Finally we calmed down.

That night, I snuggled down into my sleeping bag in the large front bedroom, excited at spending my first night in my ‘new' old house. I could hear Boges snoring away in the next room, and was surprised Ryan hadn't thrown anything at him yet.

I fumbled for my phone as I started to feel sleepy—I had just enough of a phone signal to send a message to Cal.

Perdita is awesome. Rundown but v cool. Staying to check it out. Wish you were here. You'll love this place. Have fun with the fly boys! W x

Perdita

7:15 pm

We spent most of the next two days cleaning up Perdita. It was a huge job but with the three of us working at it and having fun, joking and teasing each other at the same time, the hours flew by each day.

We explored the long beach, having found a path down between Perdita and Abercrombie House. We brought back shells and driftwood for kindling and by Monday evening the old place was looking pretty good—at least downstairs.

‘Don't get too comfortable,' said Boges, clearing away some of the mess after dinner. ‘I want to leave in about half an hour. I've got a couple of big days coming up. I gotta cram in some assignments and help out my uncle, too. But then I'd like to come back again. What about you Ryan, Winter?'

‘I didn't get to do any climbing and I want to try that cliff at the edge of the property,' said Ryan. ‘It'd be good to get a chance.'

‘We should ring Cal before we go,' I said. And I did so, passing my phone round so that everybody had a chance to talk to him.

‘It's great,' Cal said, ‘but man, they work us hard. I miss having your help, Boges, with the navigation stuff.'

‘The great brain is at your disposal, dude. I'm only a phone call away.'

Comfy in my favourite armchair once more, I realised I didn't want to go back to the city—I wanted to stay here, do more exploring, maybe find out more about my neighbour—aka ‘crash girl'. ‘This is the life,' I said after a few moments. ‘I'm getting used to this place. Actually,' I said, ‘I'd quite like to stay here a bit longer.'

Boges frowned, looking up from packing his notebook. ‘It's a bit isolated, Winter. Are you sure? You won't have wheels till I get back.'

‘I'll be fine. I've lived alone a lot. And there's plenty to do here.'

Boges wasn't convinced but I packed them off back to the city, watching the red tail-lights disappear through the overgrown gate and up the road. All around me now seemed peaceful and still but as I went to walk inside, a chill wind blew through the tangled overgrowth of the grove, like the sound of somebody sighing.

I closed the front door firmly behind me and locked it, glad that Boges had fixed the broken window frame. Just to be on the safe side, I dragged one of the huge old armchairs out of the front room and wedged it hard up against the front door.

After reading for a while, I bedded down for the night.

Perdita

7:04 am

I was up early, excited by the prospect of having Perdita all to myself. It was a perfect day and I spent it very happily wandering the beach and exploring the local countryside.

Back at the house, I went through each room, checking out the remaining furniture and all the nooks and crannies. In the evening, Boges rang to see how I was. ‘Fine,' I told him, ‘just about to have dinner.'

‘Any sign of the White Lady?'

‘No way,' I laughed. The phone crackled. ‘I think we're losing reception. Guess I'd better go.'

‘Sleep tight, country girl.'

‘You too, city boy,' I said, ringing off.

Perdita

10:26 am

The following day, I walked all the way into the village because I'd run out of bread. I strolled through the small street, past a bank, the post office and a row of shops. The local people seemed friendly enough but curious. When I ducked into the general store, Rose wasn't there, but I was lucky enough to score a lift back to Perdita with Rose's nephew Kyle, who was delivering mail. I got out at Abercrombie House and noticed the bank letter that Kyle shoved into the large tin mailbox.

I didn't do much for the rest of the evening—the long walk to the village had tired me out and I crashed early after dinner.

11:51 pm

Thud!
I woke up with a start. What was
that
?

I jumped up, throwing the sleeping bag off me. Grabbing the torch, I crept to the door and opened it. There came a strange noise, like something scraping along the ground. I crept along the upper hallway, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. At the top of the staircase I waited. The scraping came again. Downstairs! My heart was beating so hard I thought anyone in the house would hear it, but on silent bare feet, I made my way down the staircase and along the hall. Boges's warning came back to me as I suddenly realised I was completely cut off, miles away from anyone. Whoever this was, I was totally alone with them.

The sound seemed to be coming from the main room. I inched along the hallway and stood at the doorway, where Ryan had done his ghost number a few nights before. By the starlight from the windows, I could see the room was empty. And yet, the sound was coming from there. I crept in further.

Impossibly, the sound seemed to be coming from near the big old fireplace—from
inside the walls!

I hated to admit it, but I was getting really scared now. But ghosts weren't real—everybody knew that. I cleared my head and thought hard. I'd heard of an insect called the deathwatch beetle that made these kinds of noises in walls. Could that be what it was? I tried desperately to think of a rational explanation.

Suddenly, the sound was above me on the second floor! I ran on tiptoes as fast as I could, back up the stairs, and waited, straining every fibre of my being to hear any sound. But all was silent. And then I heard a whistling sound and a thud from somewhere outside! What was going on around here?

I crept back to my bedroom and peered in. Of course it was empty and dark, with an even denser blackness beyond the window panes.

Hesitating, I stole over to the windows to look out. My jaw dropped! I blinked hard, not believing my eyes. My hand shaking, I opened the balcony doors and stepped outside.

What I saw made me doubt my sanity. It couldn't be … but it was.

11:58 pm

Inside the grove was the ghostly figure of a woman, hovering in the air. She was wearing a long white dress, her hair streaming over her shoulders, head turned to the side so that I couldn't see her face. Her transparent feet seemed to be about half a metre from the ground. I stared in disbelief.

The apparition wavered before moving slowly forwards. As the ghost came closer, she turned her face towards me and I gasped in horror … it was a gaunt skull, with a hideous grin!

Crash!

I jumped in fright, then I realised I'd dropped the torch. I had to confront the apparition still glimmering in the blackness of the grove. I forced myself to hurry downstairs and outside.

I paused. The ghostly spectre in white still shimmered through the trees. Ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger, and fighting every instinct that said ‘run!', I started to inch closer.

I don't believe in you
, I kept chanting inside my head.
I don't believe in you!

Through the branches, I caught a glimpse of the black pits of her eyes, which seemed to bore into me as I took each reluctant step in her direction and then, in a heartbeat—she vanished!

Only blackness loomed ahead of me. What had just happened? What had I seen? I approached the grove very cautiously. There was some fog and something else—a bad smell I couldn't place. I had just witnessed the impossible … a real ghost. I knew I wasn't dreaming, but I was scared. I hadn't liked the look of her at all—that ghastly grimace and those black eye sockets. And what of the knocking sounds? Was that her as well? I turned and bolted back into the house, locking the door, leaning against it and getting my breath back. All was silent—the house was as still as stone.

Slowly, I went upstairs again, flashing the torchlight ahead of me. Everything was just as I had left it. I grabbed the sleeping bag and headed back downstairs to the front room where the fireplace still glowed. I crawled back into the sleeping bag and huddled up in the big armchair. No way was I going to sleep for the rest of the night.