The Haunting of Caldgrave House Read online

  Chapter Six

  “Here you go, Hugo,” Linda says as she brings my red-and-white-spotted bowl across the kitchen. “It's turkey. Your favorite!”

  She sets the bowl down and I immediately start eating. Even from the smell as she was taking it out of the packet, I could tell that this is the exact same food that I used to eat at the other house. I always hate having to change food, so it's a welcome relief to gobble the meat and jelly down, and after running with Maisie for so long earlier I'm feeling exhausted. I get the whole bowl finished and licked clean inside of thirty seconds, and then I step over to my water bowl for a drink.

  I like this type of meat.

  It's my favorite.

  “I hope you two like your dinner as much as Hugo liked his,” Linda says behind me, as I continue to lap up water. I hear plates being set on the dining table. “It's just a boring old bolognese with lamb mince and capers.”

  “Nothing like starting as we mean to go on,” Michael says. “Smells great. Real cooking. None of that processed crap.”

  “Do we have cheese?” Maisie asks.

  “I forgot to bring some,” Linda tells her. “Don't worry, I'll pick some up at the shop in the week.”

  “Where is the shop?”

  “Just a few miles away.”

  “Miles?” Maisie sounds shocked. “That's ages!”

  “Then it's a good job we have the car, isn't it,” Linda continues. “Now come on, let me worry about the shopping. Eat your dinner, young lady.”

  Finally finishing at the water bowl, I turn and look at the table. Immediately I'm struck by the overwhelming smell of human food, of the meat that they always used to eat a couple of times a week back in London. I make my way over and walk straight past Linda as she sits down – after all, she never feeds me from the table – and I go around to the table's far side, and then I stop and look up at Michael. He's just putting a spoonful of food into his mouth, but he's a much more reliable feeder. Unfortunately, he seems far too focused on his meal, and I don't think he's noticed me yet.

  After a moment, I reach out and gently paw the side of his leg.

  He glances down and mumbles something with his mouth full.

  “Don't feed him from the table, sweetheart,” Linda says.

  “What if he's hungry?” Maisie asks.

  “He's just eaten.”

  “But -”

  “He shouldn't get fed from the table,” Linda continues. “It's bad for him. He should know his place. We should try to remember that he's a dog.”

  I paw Michael's leg again.

  “Wait a minute,” he says, with his mouth still full. As he speaks, a crumb of meat falls from his lips and lands on the floor, and I quickly lick it up.

  “Hugo got something!” Maisie says excitedly.

  “Well, he shouldn't,” Linda replies.

  “I just dropped a little bit,” Michael explains. “He's hardly going to get fat on a morsel here and there.”

  “That's what you think,” Linda says, “but even a small piece of meat is like a whole cupcake to a dog. If he gets fat again, you're the one who'll have to take him to the vet and explain the -”

  Suddenly something loud and heavy slams into the ceiling above us. Startled, I skitter back until I bump against the wall. Looking up, I see that the light-shade above the kitchen table is swinging slightly.

  “What was that?” Maisie asks, sounding scared. “Daddy, what was the noise?”

  “It was nothing,” Michael says, getting to his feet. Looking at him, I can see the concern in his eyes, and in turn his fear makes me more worried. Michael always seems so calm and assured, as if he's in complete control. If he's concerned, then there's really something to worry about.

  I look back at the ceiling, but at least now the house has fallen quiet again and after a moment the light-shade stops swinging.

  “I opened a lot of the windows,” Linda says, sounding much more tense than usual, “do you think...”

  Her voice trails off.

  I keep my eyes fixed on Michael. Whenever anything bad happens, he's always the one who goes to check it out. He's the leader of the pack, and if he's scared then I'm scared. After a couple of seconds, however, he turns and looks toward the door that leads into the hallway, and I can tell that he's already starting to relax.

  “Well?” Linda whispers. “Are you going to check it out?”

  “Of course,” he replies, heading around the table and making his way to the door, “but it was nothing. Like you said, you opened the windows to air the place out.”

  “It sounded like something really heavy,” Maisie says, sounding terrified. “Do we have burglars? Mummy, what if burglars have broken in?”

  “No,” Linda replies, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder, “we don't have burglars. Your father's just going to go up and check to see what it was, though. Aren't you, Mike?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Michael heads out into the gloomy hallway, and I watch as he starts walking slowly up the staircase. I hear the wooden boards creak under his every step, and once he's out of view I hurry between the legs of the dining table and out into the hallway, where I stop at the foot of the stairs and watch as Michael reaches the top and switches on the landing light. Standing silhouetted for a moment, he seems to be waiting for another loud noise, but the house is completely quiet. And then, suddenly, he takes a couple of steps forward and disappears from view.

  I want to go after him, but then I glance back at Linda and Maisie and I see that they still seem worried. As much as I'm feeling brave, then, I turn and head back through to the kitchen and I sit right next to Maisie so that I'm ready to protect her if anything bad happens.

  “Hugo's scared,” she says softly.

  “Hugo's not scared,” Linda replies. “Hugo just doesn't like anything that interrupts his chance of getting scraps from the table.”

  Hearing a creak from above, I realize Michael must be in the room directly above us. I think that's where the loud noise came from, as well, but Michael will know what to do. Whatever's up there, he'll get rid of it and then we can go back to eating at the table. Besides, I don't smell anything unusual so I'm fairly sure that there can't be anything in the house. Lots of boxes were brought in earlier, so maybe one of those just fell over.

  Still, I can feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.

  “Why's he taking so long?” Maisie whispers.

  “Just hang on,” Linda says.

  “But -”

  “Hang on, honey,” Linda continues, but she still sounds worried. “It'll just take him a minute or two to look round, that's all.”

  A moment later there's a faint, muffled bump from upstairs, but it's nowhere near as loud as the one earlier. Then there's another bump, then another, followed by the sound of footsteps gently walking across the room above.

  “He's shutting the windows,” Linda explains. “That's all.”

  “I don't like this house,” Maisie replies. “Mum, can we go back to London?”

  “It's a lovely house.”

  “It smells funny.”

  “That's why we've been airing it out. And as soon as we paint it our own colors, it'll feel so much more like home.”

  “Our old flat felt like home. Why did we have to move?”

  “Maisie, we...” She pauses for a moment, as Michael starts coming down the staircase. “We just did, okay? Come on, let's not get into this again. We just had to leave, and we didn't have much time so we had to compromise a little, but I reckon we've landed on our feet.”

  As she says those words, Michael comes into view in the doorway holding a large square wooden panel.

  “So did you find the monster?” Linda asks.

  “I found a ceiling panel that fell off,” he says, holding the piece of wood up. “This place has been unheated for so long, maybe turning the heating on caused some warping. None of the others looked loose, but I'll check them properly in the morning.” H
e sets the square of wood on the counter. “For tonight, watch out for falling chunks of ceiling.”

  “I thought this place had been checked out,” Linda says quietly, as they go back to their seats at the dining table. “You said your guy had looked at it, and that it was all safe.”

  “Of course it's safe.”

  “Sure, apart from bits of the ceiling falling down. What if one lands on the bed while we're asleep? What if one lands on Maisie?”

  “That's not going to happen,” he says as he takes another mouthful of food.

  “How do you know?”

  He sighs.

  “Did you check the ceiling above her bed?”

  He mumbles something with a full mouth.

  “Can you at least check to make sure we can sleep tonight?” Linda asks, sounding annoyed now. “Just the bits above the beds, and maybe add some extra nails if -”

  “Fine!” Michael says, getting to his feet and storming back out of the room.

  “I didn't mean now!” Linda calls after him. “You can do it after we've eaten!”

  There's no reply. Instead, I hear Michael stomping back up to the bedrooms. I can tell from the way he's walking that he's annoyed.

  “Just eat your food,” Linda sighs, and I turn to see that Maisie looks a little upset.

  Above us, Michael is making a lot of noise as he gets to work in one of the bedrooms. He's usually quite quiet, so I think maybe he's making all this noise on purpose. Maybe he wants to make himself sound big and strong right now, to prove some kind of point. I listen to him for a moment longer, trying to work out exactly what he's doing and why, but then my attention is drawn to the smell of food on the dining room table. Glancing over, I see the edge of Michael's plate poking out over the table's edge, with all that warm, meaty bolognese just going to waste.

  I hurry over and sit next to the empty chair, and then I stare up at the plate. Maybe if I stare long enough, Linda will realize that I want Michael's food.

  Chapter Seven

  “This house sucks,” Maisie mutters as she sits on the bed, rearranging her duvet. “It hasn't even stopped Mum and Dad arguing. It's just like being back in London, except we're in a smelly old house and there's no-one else for miles and miles around.”

  She tugs a section of the duvet, causing it to move under me. I try to stay curled in position, but finally I have to get up and move a little further toward the bottom of the bed before settling back down.

  “Sorry, Hugo,” Maisie says, reaching over and patting my back, “I didn't mean to disturb you.”

  I look up at her for a moment, before closing my eyes. I'm tired and my legs ache from all that running, and this whole evening has been pretty confusing. I can't help hoping that if I go to sleep, I might wake up and find that everything makes sense again. I can hear Maisie muttering and tutting as she continues to try getting comfortable, but I'm already in a perfect sleeping position and I can feel myself starting to drift off.

  Tomorrow...

  Suddenly the door clicks. My eyes open and I see Linda stepping into the room, and I watch as she comes over and sits on the edge of the bed.

  She's going to talk.

  She talks a lot.

  I've learned to ignore a lot of what she says, unless I hear one of the words I know, but Linda can talk for ages and ages sometimes.

  I close my eyes again.

  Maybe I can just sleep through it all.

  “How's your foot?” Linda asks.

  “It's okay.”

  “No pain?”

  “No.”

  “You'll probably be a lot more active now we've moved,” Linda continues. “That might make it hurt a little bit more, but hopefully not. The damaged nerves just might get jostled around. If they do, we'll see another doctor. Maybe we can finally find one who'll do something about it.”

  “It's okay,” Maisie says. “I know it costs a lot to go to see the doctor, especially when they're so far away. I can manage.”

  “You shouldn't have to.” Linda pauses for a moment. “So this house sucks, right?”

  “Is it too late to move back to London?” Maisie asks.

  “It is most definitely too late to move back to London,” Linda replies with a heavy, tired sigh. “I need you to be strong for me, okay? I need you to follow my lead and try to look for the best parts of our new life. Don't focus on the negatives and on what we don't have. Focus on what we do.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, like...”

  I think I'm actually starting to -

  Suddenly Linda reaches under me and grabs me, hauling me up. Startled, I try to pull away, but she lifts me across the bed and then plonks me down next to Maisie, who starts stroking my shoulders.

  “I don't think he likes you doing that,” she says. “When you pick him up, he sometimes looks a bit scared.”

  “You have Hugo,” Linda replies. “It's about time this dog started acting more like a dog. He's putting on weight again, thanks to all those scraps from the table. He's starting to get little wings when we put his harness on. Think of all the adventures you can get up to out here.”

  “I had adventures in London too.”

  I try to go back down to the bottom of the bed, but Linda pushes me toward Maisie again. I don't think I'm going to get to sleep any time soon.

  “Why don't you go for a walk tomorrow?” Linda suggests. “Take Hugo and go exploring.”

  “We went for a walk today.”

  “And it was fun, right?”

  “It was alright, I suppose, but once you've seen one field, they all look the same. And we didn't meet anyone. The whole time we were out there, we didn't spot one other person.”

  “I know, but -”

  “Not even one!” Maisie continues. “How is that even possible? In London, you can't not see people everywhere you go. Why are they all so crammed together in London, but out here it feels like we're the only people in the world?”

  “It's a change of pace, to be sure,” Linda says. I try again to go back down the bed, but of course she notices and lifts me up, setting me next to the pillow at the top. “For all of us. Even little Hugo's probably finding it a bit weird, suddenly being out here with all of nature to explore.”

  “I don't like the house,” Maisie replies. “It's creepy.”

  “It's a little old.”

  “It's not just that,” Maisie says. “It feels weird here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don't know, I just don't like it.” She pauses, and I look up to see that her eyes look a little moist, glistening in the light of the bare bulb that's dangling from the ceiling. She's sad. “I don't know why.”

  Linda reaches over and puts an arm around her, before hugging her tight. I think Maisie's crying, and I always hate when she's upset. I watch for a moment, before walking over and putting a paw on her duvet-covered leg, hoping to make her feel a little better. Maybe if she remembers that I'm right here, she won't be so scared. After all, she must know by now that I always look after her.

  Before that can happen, however, Linda pulls her even closer and – in the process – bumps me and knocks me back.

  “Just be my big, brave, strong girl,” she tells Maisie, “and I promise this will all get better. I promise. No matter how bad it seems now, you're just getting used to a massive change. You've never had to do that before so I understand that it's a shock, but trust me.”

  I watch as she hugs Maisie tighter, and I can hear Maisie's faint, gulping sobs.

  “Trust, Mummy,” Linda continues soothingly. “Mummy wouldn't have agreed to have us move out here if there was anything to worry about. Everything's going to be absolutely fine, Maisie. You just have to keep the faith for a while until you see that I'm right. I wouldn't lie to you, would I?”

  “No,” Maisie whimpers.

  “So there you go,” Linda says. “Everything's fine. I promise.”

  She pauses, still hugging Maisie, and I can still hear Maisie's
sniffles.

  And then, suddenly, a woman in a long black dress walks silently past the room, stopping at the last second and turning to look straight in at us.

  Something's horribly wrong with her mouth.

  I immediately leap up and hurry to the side of the bed, and for a moment I stare at the woman's dark, angry eyes. She's old, a little older than Linda, and there are creases and lines all over her face. Like the girl outside earlier, she's very pale, almost yellow-white, but her eyes are dark around the edges. I've never seen her before, and as I sniff the air I realize that – also like the girl earlier – she seems to have absolutely no scent.

  But it's her mouth that horrifies me. Her lower jaw looks as if it's been partially wrenched away to one side, left jutting out at an awkward angle. Her mouth is wide open, and I can see several broken teeth.

  “It's okay,” Linda whispers to Maisie, next to me on the bed. “Just stay strong.”

  Just as I'm about to start snarling, the woman with the broken face turns and carries on walking, quickly disappearing silently from the doorway. I listen, but I don't hear her footsteps going away, and then a moment later the bed lurches slightly as Linda lets go of Maisie and gets to her feet.

  “Now let's both be sensible, okay?” she says, forcing a smile as she wipes her eyes. “I don't want you to get me started with the waterworks. You'll make my mascara run.”

  “I'll try to be braver,” Maisie says. “I promise.”

  I turn and look at her, and I see redness in her eyes, but then I quickly look back at the empty doorway. The woman with the broken face is gone, as if she was never there, but I know I saw her. Nobody else seemed to react in any way, and Linda's already heading over to the door while still wiping her eyes a little. I want to go and look around the house, to see where that strange woman has gone, but at the same time I don't want to leave the room if Linda's on her way out. I don't want to leave Maisie alone in this place.

  “Look at you, Hugo,” Linda says, stepping out into the corridor and then turning back to grab the door handle. “Sorry I woke you up, boy. Settle back to sleep with Maisie, okay? Honey, shall I turn the light off now?”