The Grey Girl (17 page)

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Authors: Eleanor Hawken

BOOK: The Grey Girl
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We were interrupted by Nell walking into the kitchen. ‘Is there any coffee left in that pot?' she said. ‘I've been hunched over my crystal ball all morning and I'd kill for some caffeine right now.'

‘Sorry, it's empty.' Nate shrugged.

I couldn't bring myself to look up at Nell. She knew that Nate had stayed over last night; God only knew what she thought of me. I waited for her to pass comment but she simply picked up the empty coffee pot and tutted. ‘I'll make some more. You both want some?'

‘Actually, we were just about to go.' I pushed my chair back and stood up abruptly. ‘Nate's giving me a lift to the hospital so I can visit Toby.'

Nell nodded and gave me a sad smile. ‘Send him my love.'

I smiled briefly before rushing out of the kitchen and making my way towards the front door to grab my coat. I swung open the heavy door and walked towards Nate's motorbike without looking back. It felt good to get out of the house. Inside I felt so lost – I had no idea what to do or how all this was going to end. But as soon as my feet stepped onto the gravel all I cared about was getting to Toby, and as far away from Dudley Hall as I could. At least outside the house I had some kind of focus.

As Nate clambered onto the bike in front of me and pulled on his helmet, passing me the spare one, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed myself into his back. I closed my eyes and let my arms squeeze around Nate's waist gently. He lifted his helmet visor up and turned back around towards me. ‘I meant what I said, Suzy,' he whispered. ‘You're not alone.'

22

I saw Aunt Meredith as soon as I stepped onto the ward. She was deep in conversation with one of the doctors. She clutched a styrofoam cup to her chest and hung on every word the doctor was saying to her. I walked up slowly, waving at her first so she could see me coming.

‘Suzy.' She said my name with surprise, clearly startled to see me there, as if she almost didn't recognise me out of context.

‘Nate dropped me off,' I said. ‘How's Toby doing?'

‘I'll come and check on him again within the hour,' the doctor said to Aunt Meredith, walking away.

‘The doctors still aren't completely sure what's wrong with him.' She looked exhausted; she clearly hadn't slept since Toby had been brought in. ‘They've ruled out meningitis, or flu. But they think it's shock. He's gone into shock, Suzy. Why? I just don't understand. It's almost as if his body is just shutting down for no reason. And I'm afraid that if they don't figure out what's wrong …'

I awkwardly put my hand on her arm to calm her. Aunt Meredith caught herself and stopped herself from saying whatever was coming next. Instead she took a deep breath and said, ‘It's good to see you, Suzy, thank you for coming. Knowing you're here would make Toby so happy.'

I bit down on my lip, hoping to suppress the tears that were threatening to spill. How was I ever going to make up for what had happened to my small cousin? ‘The murder mystery's going well,' I said, hoping to distract her. We walked over to two plastic chairs propped next to the corridor wall and sat down on them.

‘Of course it is,' Aunt Meredith smiled. ‘Your story is brilliant, Suzy. You'll be a fabulous writer one day.'

‘I promise I won't forget you when I'm rich and famous,' I joked.

‘Oh, Suzy.' Tears began to trickle down her pale cheeks. ‘You've always wanted to be famous, ever since you were a little girl.'

‘I guess I just don't want to be forgotten,' I said before I could stop myself.

Her eyes softened and she reached forwards and brushed a rogue strand of fading red hair behind my ear. ‘How could anyone forget you? You're so special, Suzy, everyone can see that.'

‘Can they?' I asked, my voice wobbling. I'd come to the hospital to see Toby, not hold a mirror up to my self-esteem. ‘I'm easy to forget,' I added sadly. ‘It was so easy for my parents to ship me off to boarding school and forget about me there. And they didn't want me to come home after I left Warren House, even after everything I've been through. You were right when you told me before that if it wasn't for you and Richard I'd have nowhere else to go.'

A storm cloud seemed to pass through Aunt Meredith's eyes. ‘Look, Suzy, we need to talk.'

‘Talk?' I echoed, startled. ‘About what?'

‘About you living at Dudley Hall.'

‘I have nowhere else to go,' I reminded her. ‘I know I've been difficult, and I'm sorry. And I know Toby's ill, but I promise to help out however I can. I'll help with the parties and –'

‘I spoke to your mum last night,' she said, cutting me off. ‘We both wondered if the time is right for you to go back to school. You can't stay at Dudley Hall for ever, and –'

‘You can't send me back to school,' I said loudly. A nurse looked up from the clipboard in her hands and gave me a stern frown. ‘Please don't send me back to that school. Please let me stay with you, just for a while longer.'

‘Suzy.' Aunt Meredith closed her eyes and tears streamed down her face. ‘Something terrible happened to Toby in that house. I don't know what. But I've heard the stories, I'm not stupid. Village gossip about the ghost of a girl who haunts the house.' I stared at her in disbelief. She knew about the grey girl – all this time, she knew. ‘I wouldn't have let you come to stay if I had thought for one moment that the stories were true,' she said pleadingly. ‘All I wanted was to care for you when your mum couldn't. I just wanted to help you. I didn't believe in ghosts. But after everything that's happened – to you, to Toby – I can't ignore it any more. I can't let you stay there any more.'

‘I'm going to find a way to make her leave,' I said urgently. ‘I promise you, Aunt Meredith.'

Aunt Meredith closed her eyes again, a sigh of pure exhaustion escaping her. ‘We'll talk about it again when Toby's better.' She sniffed. She pointed to a single room off to the right of where we were sitting. ‘Toby's in there. I'm going to get another coffee. Do you want one?'

‘Yes please,' I nodded.

Slowly, I made my way towards the room that Toby was being kept in. The lights were dim and as I opened the door I could hear the beep, beep, beeping of the monitor he was strapped up to. He looked so tiny. I walked over to his bed with a sick feeling in my throat. Just like the day before, he was staring off into space. His eyes were wide open in shock and his little chest rose and fell in rapid movements. My feet wanted to turn around and run as far away as I could from him; he just looked too sick and I wasn't sure how to deal with that. But I owed it to my little cousin, the boy who had followed me around and made me play spy games with him. Who had shown me his books and talked to me with trust and affection. Seeing him lying in a hospital bed, looking so tiny and helpless, I felt the hatred for the grey girl well up inside me and threaten to spill out and flood the room in angry waves. She had done this to him. This was her fault. In that moment, if I could have found some way to send her restless spirit to eternal Hell then I would have done it.

‘Hey, mate,' I said meekly as I came near to Toby's bed.

All I had in response was the beeping of the machines.

‘I'm so, so sorry, Toby,' I whispered. ‘I should have warned you about her. Maybe then you wouldn't have come up into the attic after us. This should never have happened. You should never have been dragged into this.'

Something on Toby's bedside table caught my eye. My stomach lurched as I recognised the book – it was the book of Tennyson's poetry, the book that I'd found on my pillow back at Dudley Hall. The book that she had put there. I'd last seen the book back in my bedroom. I had no idea how or why it had come to be at the hospital. Toby was too young to read or understand poetry like that, and if Aunt Meredith was going to sit by his bed and read, surely she'd be reading spy stories to him.

Feeling like the ground was shaking beneath me, I slowly reached for the book. As if in slow motion, I held the book in front of me and let it fall open. I knew what I'd see before I looked down.

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro' the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

‘The curse is come upon me,' cried

The Lady of Shalott.

I snapped the book shut and nearly knocked into Aunt Meredith as I turned around quickly. ‘What's this doing here?' I asked, holding the book up in front of me.

‘It was in Toby's room,' she replied, alarmed at my tone. ‘I thought I would read –'

‘What do you mean? Where did he get it from?'

‘I don't know where he got it from. I would have thought he was too young for Tennyson, but I found it by his bed so he must have been interested in it. I thought he might want to read it when he woke up so I brought it here.'

I stepped backwards, away from her.

‘Suzy, what's wrong?'

‘This shouldn't be here. Toby shouldn't touch it,' I said, edging for the door.

Aunt Meredith looked at me with wide-eyed shock as I ran from the room, the book still in my hand.

I pushed my way past nurses, doctors and porters as I ran through the hospital and out into the warm afternoon air. I still had money in my purse left over from when Aunt Meredith had given me a wodge of notes to go out for lunch with Frankie. I'd have enough for a taxi to take me away from the hospital and back to Dudley-on-Water.

I climbed into a waiting cab at the taxi rank, my eyes wild with fear.

‘Where to, love?'

‘Dudley-on-Water,' I said quickly. ‘The Old Rectory.'

The car sped off and my blood rushed through my veins with exhilaration. I knew what I had to do. This was it. I was turning the pages of the last chapter of this story; my drama was moving into the final act.

One way or another, it would all soon be over.

23

I walked up the garden path to the Old Rectory as the taxi pulled away. I knocked hard on the door and waited for someone to answer. Nobody came.

I turned the front door handle and it opened beneath my fingertips. Gently, I pushed the creaking door open and walked into the house. ‘Hello?' I called out, shutting the front door behind me.

There was no answer. The house, as always, smelt of wood smoke and candles. But as I walked through the small hallway and into the lounge I noticed that there were no candles burning, and no fire blazing away in the grate. ‘Hello?' I called out again.

Once again there was no reply. The house was empty. I hadn't planned on coming to an empty house, and couldn't believe my luck that I'd managed to turn up at a time when Fiona, Nell and Nate were all out. I walked through the lounge towards the old bureau I'd seen Fiona open the day before. With the house empty I wouldn't have to lie to anyone about why I was there; I wouldn't have to distract someone whilst I stole what I needed from Fiona's secret shoe box hidden away in the bureau drawer.

‘Suzy?' came Fiona's voice behind me, just as my hand touched the bureau drawer handle. ‘What are you doing here?'

My heart leapt into my throat. The house wasn't empty at all. I spun around to see her standing in the doorway, watching me like a hawk. Her hair was dripping wet and she had an old, worn dressing gown wrapped around her skinny body.

‘I'm looking for Nate,' I said quickly.

‘He's gone out for a ride on his bike,' Fiona said, moving towards me. Her eyes flittered towards the bureau drawer that I stood in front of. ‘He said he needed to get away for a few hours. I don't suppose he'll be back any time soon. Do you want me to tell him that you dropped by?'

‘No, don't worry,' I said, my voice catching in my throat. ‘I'll catch up with him later.'

‘Well, if there was nothing else …' Fiona stood back and opened her arm, gesturing towards the front door, implying I should leave.

‘Right,' I mumbled, silently cursing to myself as I moved away from the bureau, away from the drawer and away from the box that I so desperately needed to see inside.

I walked past Fiona, trying to ignore the suspicion in her eyes, and headed for the front door. I turned around as I opened it, finding her watching me from the lounge door. I gave her a weak smile before slipping outside. I closed the door behind me and sank my back against it, shutting my eyes to the waning afternoon sun. My mind raced, trying to figure out what I should do next. There was a window next to the front door which looked into the hallway. Ivy crept over the glass and practically obscured the view into the house. Very carefully, I pulled back a strand of ivy and peered through the window and into the hallway. I watched as Fiona walked away from the lounge and back up the stairs.

With Fiona back upstairs this was the only chance I would have to sneak inside and take what I needed.

I didn't dare go back through the creaking front door, it made far too much noise. Instead, I crept around the side of the house, almost crawling along the ground like I'd done with Frankie the time we'd spied on Fiona. When I came to the lounge window I slowly rose up and peeped in, careful that no one from the village was watching me through the hedgerows. The lounge was empty, as I knew it would be.

Very gently, I pushed at the top of the slat window, silently praying that it wasn't locked. My prayers were answered. The window slid smoothly upwards. I managed to raise it just enough to climb through into the house.

One leg at a time, I climbed into the lounge, careful not to rattle the window or make any noise. My heart leaping about inside me, I crept over to the old bureau, my eyes never straying from the lounge door, expecting Fiona to burst in on me at any moment.

With great care I delicately pulled on the bureau drawer handle, and the drawer slid open, as silently as the grave.

I pulled the drawer fully open.

It was empty.

Nothing but a few blank greeting cards and a metre or two of yellow ribbon. I frantically lifted up the greeting cards, half expecting to see the box hidden beneath them in the shallow drawer. The box wasn't there. It was the only drawer to the bureau, and definitely the same drawer that I'd seen Fiona take the box from the other day. I opened the bureau's desk, hoping to see the box in there, but there was nothing.

Panicked, I slid the drawer shut and looked around the room in desperation.

The box had to be in there somewhere. From where I stood in the corner of the room my eyes scanned over every surface, every pile of magazines and every scrunched-up jumper in the corner of a chair.

I heard the creaking of Fiona's footsteps on the stairs as I saw the box. It was sat on a side table beneath a lamp.

I only had moments before Fiona came back into the lounge and discovered me in there once again. Without a second thought I dived towards the box, grasped it in both hands and then lunged for the window. I jumped through it like some kind of acrobat, landing on the grass below with an awkward thud. There wasn't time to close the window behind me, I couldn't risk the sound of the slat scraping down the woodwork, or the look on Fiona's face as she caught me shutting it when she walked into the lounge.

Instead, I sprang to my feet and ran as fast as I could.

I ran up the garden path, out of the garden and into the village. The church loomed down at me, its sprawling graveyard an inviting place to hide away and take refuge. I sprinted for the cast-iron gate and it swung open as I hurled my full weight at it. I ran between the graves, not stopping to catch my breath or look behind me to see if I was being chased. I ran towards the bench I'd sat on with Nate that one time, the bench by his grandmother's grave.

I sat down on the bench and caught my breath, my eyes glued to the graveyard entrance, just waiting for Fiona to follow me in there.

The box felt hot and heavy between my hands. I looked down at it eagerly.

I pulled off the cardboard lid and peered in.

It was full of black and white photographs.

The photograph on the top of the pile was of four girls smiling and holding hockey sticks. They were standing in front of a building I recognised straight away – Dudley Hall. One of the girls must have been Nate's grandmother, and the photograph must have been taken when she was a schoolgirl at Dudley Hall. I turned the photo over in my hands. Four names were handwritten in faded ink on the back of the photograph:
Annabel, Lavinia, Margot and Sybil.

I lifted up the photo and looked underneath. The next picture was of just two of the girls who'd appeared in the first photograph. A girl with dark hair and a girl with blonde hair. The blonde-haired girl had her arm wrapped possessively around the other girl's neck. They both smiled at the camera. Something around the blonde's neck caught my eye. It was a necklace shaped like a pentagram. I knew what a pentagram represented – witchcraft. It was the same symbol I'd seen carved into the weeping willow by the stream in the Dudley Hall grounds. The carving that had letters etched besides each of the pentagram's five points.

I lifted the photo of the two girls up and looked beneath. There were more of the two of them. They were wearing thick, heavy cloaks, and my heart beat faster as I recognised the cloaks as the same kind that I saw the grey girl wearing every time I watched her try to run away from my bedroom window.

The photograph below was of the four girls again – this time they were sitting around a bed in what must have once been their old dormitory. A room that looked unbearably like the bedroom I now slept in. I continued to rifle through the pictures, only finding more of the same girls.

As my fingers reached the picture at the bottom of the shoe box I felt a painful jolt of adrenalin beat through my body. With shaking hands I picked up the picture and held it to the light.

It was of two girls. They were each holding shadow puppets, one the woman, the other the man. One girl had dark hair – the girl who had been in the picture with the blonde wearing the pentagram. The other girl hadn't been in the other pictures, but I recognised her straight away.

The grey girl.

Friday 31st October 1952

Tilly is dead. I killed her.

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