Saving Willowbrook (27 page)

‘I've seen her work. I've also visited art galleries all over the world. I'm sure of what I said. If you'd seen her special project, you'd be blown away.'

‘Might pay to buy one or two of her paintings, then, for an investment?'

‘Definitely. Now, what did you want to see me about?'

‘My boy. He isn't getting any better. Been sneaking out at night. Thinks I don't know. I don't want to upset his mother any more than she is now, but I have to do something.'

‘Could be he's an alcoholic, out of control. If he was my patient I could advise him.'

‘Advise me instead.'

‘These are only general suggestions about alcoholics. I can't be more definite about your son without seeing him. You could take him to another doctor if he won't see me.' Oliver rapidly outlined several avenues of action that might help anyone slipping into alcoholism.

‘Brett won't agree to let himself be locked away in rehab.'

‘I'm sure you can persuade him, Mr Harding, if you feel it's in his best interest. He should definitely consult a doctor before you do anything, however.'

‘If I have to, I'll persuade him, and I'll take him to see a specialist myself. Get some names to me, will you? Just one other thing. About the mix-up at the surgery with that parcel. It was a joke. My Brett's no terrorist. You don't need to press charges, surely?'

‘Not if you're certain he'll not go near Rose again.' Oliver had a thought. ‘Once he goes in for rehab, we'll see about getting the charges withdrawn.'

Harding nodded. ‘Fair enough. It'll give me a bit more push. I'll make certain he doesn't go near her while we're fixing up some rehab. I'll drive you back now.' When they drew up outside the pub, he said grudgingly, ‘You seem to have a steady head on your shoulders.'

And that left Oliver wondering exactly what Mr Harding was going to do to persuade his son to let himself be locked away.

He'd stay on his guard till that happened. He wanted Rose to be safe and he didn't want to be looking over his shoulder as he courted her. This time he was going to persuade her to marry him, would not take no for an answer. Would do whatever it took.

Bright moonlight guided Cameron across the yard with the ragged sleeping bag Stephanie had found. As he pushed the door shut, darkness surrounded him like a heavy cloak, so he stood still and let his eyes grow accustomed to the dimness.

It wasn't totally dark. There were a couple of skylights. But the interior seemed eerie in this light and he didn't move for a while, feeling safer with his back pressed against the heavy wooden door. Which reminded him. He used the spare door key Ella had given him to lock up again. If those men found it locked and opened it, then they were definitely trespassing, if not breaking and entering.

He still felt jittery, which surprised him. He wasn't usually afraid of much, certainly not of shadows.

Even as he watched, light seemed to gather in one corner, shimmering slightly. His heart began to pound and his hair prickled with apprehension. He made no attempt to go and investigate the patch of light. Well, how did you investigate what might be Ella's ghost? It didn't look like a lady, well, only vaguely, just a patch of light that couldn't be explained by anything else.

He cleared his throat, shivering as the sound echoed round the barn, and gave in to a sudden urge to explain his presence. ‘I'm here to protect the farm.'

The light went brighter for a moment, then faded and dimmed.

When nothing happened for a few minutes, he let out his breath, realizing he'd been breathing very shallowly. Not like him to be spooked by something. But then, he'd never encountered a ghost before. He'd never believed in such things, but how did you explain Amy's firm belief in ‘the lady' and Ella's smiling certainty that there were ghosts here? Not to mention this patch of light that came from nowhere.

He forced himself to walk round the big space, ending up at the place where the secret panel was. He studied it, head on one side. Could he remember how to open it? Not that he was going to need it, but still, he'd found it fascinating.

What had Ella done? He raised his hand and pressed the spot she'd touched, feeling something, a bounciness at the edge of the wood. But nothing happened. Oh yes, she'd pressed in two places, somewhere lower down as well. He ran his hand across the rough dark wood and pressed lower down. Nothing happened. Had he got the right spot? It was hard to tell. He tried again, with the same lack of result.

A shimmer of light played briefly where two walls met at right angles, lower than his hand and slightly to the right. He froze. Was he being guided? No, it was just a stray moonbeam – wasn't it?

But as he pressed where the light had glowed, the panel swung open with only the faintest grating sound. He let out another long, low breath of air. This was . . . hard to accept. And though he was no coward, his heart was pounding.

The hidey hole was much darker than the main barn, so he stayed in the doorway, looking in, then took a step back and pushed the door closed. It moved quietly, as if well oiled. He didn't know why he'd wanted to open it.

He continued to prowl round the barn, but found nothing else of interest because most of it was empty.

He went to sit on the sleeping bag in one of the low-walled storage areas, leaning against the wall, arms clasped around his knees. It was going to be a long night.

The two men met just after midnight, by which time lights in every building at Willowbrook had long been extinguished.

‘Y'know, I think this place really is old,' Smith muttered.

‘
He
won't like that.'

‘He'll want to know the truth, though what he'll do with it is anyone's guess. He's a fast worker when he's got his sights on a new development.'

‘Well, let's get started.'

They walked along the grass by the edge of the path, stopping with muffled curses when they found only the soft earth of a flowerbed to walk in.

‘We'll need to get rid of our footprints from that afterwards,' Smith whispered.

‘Ah, they won't know we've been here. It'll be a jobbing gardener in a place like this and he won't look at them footprints twice.'

‘I'm not taking any risks.'

Brown grinned, teeth showing white in the moonlight. ‘There are no risks. Trust me, I can get us into the house and barn without anyone being the wiser.'

‘Careful here. There's more of that damned gravel. Better go round it where we can. It makes a crunching noise.'

They made their way slowly across to the barn doors.

‘Spooky old place, isn't it?' Smith said.

‘Yes. Now, the old man wants a quick survey and plenty of photos.' Brown bent to fiddle with the lock, snickering at how easy it was to pick these old locks.

The door made a noise as they started to open it and Brown pulled out a small oil bottle, dripping some on the hinges. But the door still squeaked. ‘Funny sort of noise, that. Should be all right now.' But the door squeaked even more loudly and they both glanced nervously at the house.

Brown opened it the minimum amount to slip inside. ‘Leave it like that! No one will be awake at this hour, let alone looking out at it.'

‘They might if they've heard that noise,' Smith objected.

‘Trust me. I've done dozens of these jobs and not been caught. It's more likely to wake them up if we make more noise by closing it. Leave it. We won't be long.'

Muttering Smith followed his much larger companion inside, nervousness showing in every twitch of his body.

The big man pulled out a torch and flashed it quickly round the inside of the barn, letting the light linger on the old beams. ‘They don't build things that solidly these days. Shame this place has to go.'

The door hinges squeaked again.

‘It didn't move,' Smith said. ‘I was watching and the door didn't move. Why should the damned hinges squeak?'

‘Wood settling. Old places always creak. You're making more noise than it is with your complaints.'

Crouched behind one of the partitions, Cameron listened to their muttered conversation, praying they'd not find him. He didn't think they'd linger long.

Smith brought out an infra-red camera and began to take pictures while the other played his torch here and there.

Cameron moved back further, crouching and ready to run as the men came to stand nearby and the torch flashed in his direction. They were taking a very comprehensive series of photos. The wood he was pressing against creaked slightly.

‘What's that?' Smith asked.

‘What's what?'

‘That sound. Something creaked, and it wasn't from the direction of the door, either.'

‘It's nothing. How many times do I have to tell you: all old places creak.'

‘Well, I don't like it in here. It gives me the shivers.'

‘Shut up and finish taking those photos.'

‘There. Done.' He shoved the camera in his pocket and turned round, so eager to get out he bumped into the partition and knocked Amy's fairy wand off it.

The wand landed close to Cameron's foot.

‘I'd better put it back,' the big guy said. ‘It's sloppy work to leave things different.' He bent to pick it up and as he did, his torch played over Cameron's foot. ‘There's someone here!' he yelled in shock.

For lack of anything better, Cameron hurled the sleeping bag at him and luckily, it tangled around his head for a moment. But the smaller man was between him and the door, so he could see no alternative but to slip along the wall and activate the secret panel.

He heard the big one call, ‘Did he run out?'

‘Didn't get past me. Turn that bloody torch on again and stay in front of those doors.'

‘The torch won't work.' He clicked it several times in frustration but it didn't light up.

By that time Cameron was inside the hole and had started the door closing. It moved painfully slowly and he felt vulnerable as he crouched at the back of the small space.

Suddenly the torch came on again, just as the door was shutting. Cameron watched the thin line of light vanish then sat down on the bench and leaned back against the wall. That had been a close shave.

In the barn the big man swung the torch to and fro but found no one. ‘He must have got out.'

‘He did not! I was standing by the door all the time. It's barely half open, so I'd have felt him if he'd tried to push past me.'

‘Then where the hell has he gone.' Once again he played the torch methodically to and fro. Once again, it failed suddenly, and this time didn't come on again.

Cursing, they moved cautiously towards the door and went outside again.

The door squeaked even more loudly as they closed it, and with backward glances over their shoulders, they made their way back towards the chalets. Smith stopped to smear their footprints in the soft earth of the flower beds.

‘I'll check on these in the morning,' he muttered, and this time Brown didn't object.

At the chalets they stopped to listen but there were no sounds of pursuit.

‘Damned if I know what happened back there,' Brown whispered. ‘But as long as you got the photos
he
wants, what the hell.'

Inside the hidey hole, Cameron listened carefully. The two men must have left the barn, because their voices had faded to silence. He waited a while, then decided to go out via the inner secret passage, just to be sure of not bumping into them. He'd almost swear he'd heard soft laughter as he made his way down it. Strange the tricks imagination could play. He grinned. If there was a ghost, it had certainly been on his side.

The two men had definitely been sent by Ray, and given the power of money, Cameron was glad he'd warned Julian that someone might have been bribed to bury or refuse the application for listing.

In the meantime, he doubted the men would be coming out again, so he might as well get some sleep.

Ella woke up as she heard footsteps crunching faintly on the gravel of the yard. She slipped out of bed and went across to the window in time to see two men creeping round the corner of the barn on their way to the chalets.

Just as she was about to get back into bed, she saw another figure appear from the direction of the storehouses. When the clouds slid away from the moon, she saw that it was Cameron. What had he been doing? Had he seen anything?

She switched on her bedside lamp, hoping he'd pop in to see her.

Footsteps came up the stairs and a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

‘You awake?'

‘Yes. I heard someone outside. What happened?'

Cameron came across to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, taking hold of her hand. ‘Two of our guests have been exploring. I was keeping watch inside the barn because they seemed so interested in it, and they came inside to take photos there.'

‘That was far too risky. They might have attacked you.'

‘That occurred to me very forcibly once I was actually shut in the barn with them. But when they found me, I used the hidey hole and secret passage you showed us to escape. I hope you don't mind.'

‘Of course I don't. I'd have hated anything to have happened to you.'

He raised the hand to his lips, smiling. ‘So would I.'

‘Tell me exactly what happened, every single detail. Here, you can lie next to me while you talk.'

He moved beside her, wishing he wasn't tired, and she wasn't so run-down, and began to give details of the night's events. When he debated whether he'd seen her female ghost, she gasped in surprise.