Childish Spirits Read online

  Mum yawned.

  “I think that’s enough Phase One for one night.” She pushed her papers aside, turning her attention to Ellie. “What are you working on?”

  Ellie shrugged.

  “Just a few ideas for poems.”

  “Can I see?” Mum picked up the top sheet of paper and read the title. “The Nursery. Is this based on that room upstairs?”

  “Could be.” Ellie politely took the sheet of paper back.

  “You should be able to find a lot of inspiration here,” Mum said.

  Ellie took up her mobile, finishing off a text message.

  “Who are you texting?” Mum asked.

  “Dad,” said Ellie. “Let him know we’ve arrived OK.” She paused. “Well, no one else called him, did they?”

  “I’ll be calling him,” Mum said.

  She softened her tone.

  “Ellie, I know this has been a bit of an upheaval for you and Charlie. Leaving London. Changing schools…”

  “It’s cool,” said Ellie.

  “It’s not forever, you know. I’m only on a twelve-month contract. And we can go back on visits. You’ll still see your Dad…”

  “I’ve told you.” Ellie sent the text.

  She sat looking at the mobile phone.

  “It’s cool.”

  Three hours later, the flat lay in darkness.

  Charlie was asleep on the sofa bed. Mum was sleeping on the opposite side of the servants’ hall from Ellie, in what had once been the larder.

  Ellie lay awake in her tiny bedroom. She couldn’t sleep. The excitement of the day, mingling with the mystery of the room upstairs, had left her brain too active.

  There was a large clock on the wall just outside Ellie’s door.

  Tick. Tick. Tick…

  “Shut up…” Ellie muttered.

  She reached out of bed, found her watch. Eleven fifty-seven. There were hours to go until morning.

  She lay down again and closed her eyes.

  She remembered what Dad used to say to her, when she was little and couldn’t sleep.

  “Think nice thoughts…”

  Ellie tried to imagine living at Inchwood in the old days. Going out for a walk, maybe, amidst the chestnut trees, first thing in the morning, while all was still. Then back to the house for breakfast, with servants to make it. Painting at the high upper windows… playing in the nursery upstairs…

  Somewhere very near, a door slammed against a wall.

  Ellie sat bolt upright in bed.

  Ellie crept out of her room.

  The flat was quiet and still. Only the clock ticking broke the silence of the night.

  Ellie stared.

  The main door into the flat was wide open.

  It had definitely been shut when they’d gone to bed. It couldn’t just be the draught. The first thing Mum had worked out was how to lock the door.

  Ellie crept past Charlie. He muttered in his sleep, stirred slightly.

  Tick. Tick. Tick –

  Silence.

  Ellie blinked.

  The clock had stopped.

  It was midnight.

  Ellie froze. She could hear a faint melody.

  The whistling had started again.

  And this time, it was here in their flat.

  Ellie stood, listening. The sound was moving across the room.

  The main door slammed shut.

  Charlie shifted uncomfortably.

  After a moment, Ellie breathed.

  She stood wondering what to do. Go back to bed? That made sense. The flat was cold, and bed, if not warm, had at least been warmer. The house was dark. And she would be alone.

  But outside, a short walk away, lay the nursery – and the answer to who was whistling that tune…

  Ellie grabbed her fleece from a nearby chair. She put it on over her night things, zipped it right up to the neck. She grabbed Charlie’s torch from the floor by the sofa bed.

  Then she headed for the door.

  With only the torch to light her way, Ellie emerged into the hall.

  She shivered slightly, as she heard whistling – just a few notes.

  She jumped, as she heard another door slam. She used the torch to find it. Nearby, a narrow wooden door was blowing in the cold night air. Beyond it was a flight of steep, stone steps, leading downward. A cellar, she supposed. She pulled the door shut.

  There was silence.

  Then, Ellie heard another sound. Footsteps on the staircase to the first floor.

  She grasped the banister rail, and crept upstairs.

  She reached the upper corridor just in time to hear the slamming of another door. Somehow, she knew which door that would be.

  She moved cautiously towards the nursery.

  She paused. She could hear the melody again. But this time, it wasn’t being whistled.

  Someone was playing the piano.

  Ellie opened the door.

  Silence.

  Ellie stood in the doorway and stared. A shaft of moonlight illuminated the scene. The nursery was empty. The soldiers looked blankly back at her. The rocking horse seemed to be smiling.

  Leaving the door slightly ajar, Ellie crossed to the piano. She had left the lid down. But now it was raised again.

  She turned.

  Her eyes grew.

  The train set had come to life. The key was turning itself in the side of the engine.

  The train started to move around the track.

  “Hello?” Ellie had summoned all her courage to speak the word, yet it came out in a tiny whisper. She cleared her throat. “Hey, who is that?”

  She forced herself to raise her voice as she moved forward.

  “I’m not frightened, you know. So you can forget that, right from the start.”

  She took another step towards the moving train.

  Then another…

  “BOO!”

  Ellie froze. Then she relaxed.

  And she’d thought he was asleep.

  “Charlie!” Ellie snorted. “Honestly, you’re so pathetic. Did you really think you’d get me again –?” She turned.

  And the torch fell from her fingers, rolling across the nursery floor.

  Standing before her was a boy.

  But it wasn’t Charlie.

  It was a boy the same age as her. He had very thick blond hair, bright blue eyes and a grin that made her feel she was about to become the victim of a particularly nasty practical joke.

  She could see him quite plainly.

  But she could also see through him. She could see the train set, and the bookshelf beyond.

  And in that moment, Ellie knew that this was no ordinary boy.

  Chapter Four

  For a moment, Ellie simply stood.

  The boy also stood still, grinning, watching her. Enjoying her fear.

  Ellie stared at him. He was dressed like no other boy she had ever seen before – a tweed suit complete with waistcoat, a smart shirt and a tie that was slightly crooked. Everything was beautifully tailored.

  Whoever he was, his Mum and Dad must have been rich.

  This was his place, she could tell that. He fitted in perfectly with his surroundings, the train set and toys and books. Everything here was his.

  And Ellie had an uncomfortable feeling that she was butting in.

  “Oh.”

  Ellie jumped as the boy spoke.

  “I’m awfully sorry.” The boy’s voice was mocking, and incredibly upper-class. “Did I scare you?”

  He closed his grin into a smirk.

  “Serves you right. Barging into a fellow’s house uninvited –”

  Ellie opened her mouth to reply.

  “– and don’t tell me your mother’s come to work here,” the boy went on. “Because this house – is mine. And I say who comes to work here.”

  His blue eyes gleamed.

  “Are you frightened of me?”

  Ellie swallowed.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

&n
bsp; “Because…” Ellie caught her breath. “Because… you’re not real. You’re a ghost.”

  “How do you know?”

  “What?” Ellie blinked.

  “How do you know I’m not real?” the boy asked. “Maybe I’m the real one. Maybe you’re the one who’s just pretend.”

  He smiled.

  “Or are you right after all? Maybe it is a ghost standing in front of you – or behind you!”

  Ellie spun around.

  All of a sudden, the boy was standing behind her. He gave her another smirk.

  “Look…” Ellie tried to steady her voice. “You’re not scaring me –”

  “Or maybe,” the boy continued, “you’re not seeing me at all. Maybe you’re still asleep. Maybe I’m a dream. A figment of your imagination.”

  He took a step forward.

  “Now you see me –”

  He disappeared.

  There was silence.

  Ellie took a deep breath. She looked left – right – no sign of him…

  Then she gave another yell as the posh little voice came from nowhere.

  “And now you don’t!” the voice called. “But I’m jolly well still here, so there! See?”

  Ellie trembled as she saw her own hair rise into the air, lifted by an unseen hand. She shouted as she felt the invisible boy give it a tug.

  “Ow! That hurt, you little –”

  The boy reappeared, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “Still think I’m not real?”

  The next moment, he was gone again.

  “Now where am I? Can you guess, Little Miss Eleanor? Oh yes, I was downstairs earlier. You didn’t see me, but I was there all right. And by-the-by, I read your poetry. It’s rotten!”

  Ellie yelled as she felt someone stamp on her foot.

  The boy reappeared, smiling sweetly.

  Boiling over, Ellie grabbed a thatched cottage from the train set and hurled it at him.

  Before it could reach its target, the boy disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the room.

  “Oh, bad luck!” He smiled at Ellie. “You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve. For a girl.”

  Ellie grabbed another item from the layout – a green-painted water tower – and gave it her best throw.

  The boy repeated the trick, returning to his previous place.

  “Maybe you’d like to be my companion! I get so lonely up here, all alone.”

  In less than a second, he disappeared and reappeared behind Ellie.

  “Boo!”

  Ellie staggered forward.

  She turned, yet again, to face him.

  “We could play up here!” the boy went on. “You could join in all my games! If you do just what you’re told. Or maybe…”

  His voice hardened.

  “Maybe it would be more fun… just to keep you in the dark.”

  The next moment, Ellie found her feet leaving the floor.

  Something like a tornado hit her. The nursery door shot open, and Ellie found herself flying backwards, propelled by an invisible force into the darkness beyond.

  “Good night!”

  At breakneck speed, Ellie flew back along the corridor –

  Down the stairs –

  And, without even seeing their flat –

  THUMP!

  She found herself back on her bed.

  Ellie lay there for a moment, gasping.

  Out of the darkness came the faint sound of the boy’s mocking laughter.

  Chapter Five

  “Charlie…?” Ellie said.

  She and Charlie were at breakfast. She had a bowl of cereal in front of her, which she was ignoring.

  She tried not to look repulsed at the sight of her elder brother stuffing down toast and lime marmalade.

  “What?” Charlie asked, with his mouth full.

  Ellie hid her disgust.

  “Have you ever seen something, which you knew you’d seen. But which you couldn’t have seen –”

  Charlie sniggered.

  “Didn’t you get any sleep last night either?”

  “You did,” Ellie told him. “You were fast asleep, when I –”

  Charlie frowned.

  “When you what?”

  “Nothing.” Ellie fell silent.

  “Oh, come on, you two!” Mum bustled into the room, seizing papers and files, shoving them all into her briefcase. She grabbed an official-looking badge and hung it on its ribbon around her neck. On it was the Journeyback logo. “It’s not a holiday, this, you know. It’s a working day. I’ve got to go through our whole strategy with Marcus this morning.”

  “I might come and give you a hand,” said Charlie. “Show you how the young entrepreneurs do it.”

  Mum pulled a face.

  “Just for that, you can do all the data entry.”

  “And what about her?”

  “I was hoping you might help with the creative side, Ellie,” Mum said. “I’ve seen the draft of the children’s guidebook for this place and it looks as if it was written by a four-year-old.”

  “There you are,” Charlie said. “Just your age group.”

  Ellie stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Perhaps you could give it the once-over,” Mum continued. “Maybe do some research on the Internet. Rewrite it into something kids might actually want to read.”

  “Yeah, OK.” Ellie was looking thoughtful. “I’d like to find out some more about this place.”

  “Right.” Mum produced her laptop from its bag. “You can use this. Guidebook’s on the desktop.”

  She headed for the green baize door.

  “Come on, Charlie, let’s go and see if they’ve got me a desk up there yet.”

  Charlie closed the door.

  Ellie rose and took her breakfast dishes over to the sink. Mum’s task could be the perfect opportunity for her to find some answers.

  She turned on the tap. Nothing happened.

  Ellie twisted it first one way, then the other.

  The next moment, without a touch from her, the tap was suddenly full on.

  Drenched, Ellie yelled. She pushed at the tap, but it refused to budge.

  She heard a sound familiar from the previous night. A faint, childish laughter.

  “All right!” Ellie shouted. “I know it’s you! Wherever you are, come out!”

  The boy appeared, resplendent in his tweed suit, and casually snapped his fingers. The tap turned itself off.

  “Do you like our servants’ hall?” he asked. “Used to be so much nicer. I often came down here to be charming to the staff. Especially at mealtimes. Do you know, they all used to stand up when I came in? Mrs Roberts the cook thought I was sweet, she’d give me gingerbreads and meringues. Nice old trout. Do you like gingerbread –?”

  “WHO ARE YOU?” Ellie bellowed. “And what are you doing in our flat?”

  “Oh, I’ll be everywhere,” the boy said. “As long as you’re in my house. I can hide anywhere I choose.”

  He vanished. But Ellie could still hear him.

  “I could be here!”

  Ellie blinked as cupboard doors opened and slammed.

  “There!”

  Ellie gave a cry of rage as her poems flew up from the table, twisted and crumpled in mid-air and fell to the floor.

  Then – silence.

  Slowly, Ellie picked up a tea towel, to dry herself.

  She looked around. There was no sign of her visitor.

  To calm her nerves, she lifted her lukewarm cup of tea to her lips.

  “And everywhere!”

  The boy’s face grinned at her out of the mug.

  Ellie shrieked and spilt the tea.

  A moment later, the boy reappeared in the room, looking gleeful.

  “Good job it was going cold, eh?”

  He disappeared again.

  Cautiously, Ellie stepped across the room, looking at every object where he might be hiding.

  Not the mug again… not Mum’s laptop carrier…

  T
hen she looked at her own small shoulder bag.

  “I say!” A cheerful voice came from inside the bag. “What a lovely lot of things you’ve got in here!”

  But this time, Ellie was ready for him. With one swift movement, she grabbed the bag and slammed it down onto the tabletop, holding onto it hard.

  “Right! Got you!”

  “Aargh!” the boy’s voice yelled. For the first time, he sounded unsure of himself. “Let me go!”

  “Not until you’ve answered a few questions!” Ellie shouted.

  “You’re suffocating me!” the voice howled.

  “How can I suffocate you?” Ellie held the bag firmly. “You’re a ghost!”

  “I’m warning you –” the voice went on.

  “I want to know who you are!” Ellie told the bag.

  “Let me go this instant!” the boy’s voice cried. “I’m not without influence, you know!”

  From the table, the squeezy bottle of tomato ketchup rose into the air. A carton of milk emerged from the fridge to join it.

  “Now,” the voice came. “Are you going to let me go?”

  “No!”

  A jet of ketchup caught Ellie right between the eyes. The carton opened itself and began to add milk to the water that still covered her neck and shoulders.

  “Let me go!” the bag screamed.

  Ellie held it tightly.

  “Not until you tell me who you are, and what this is all about!”

  She looked up.

  Mum and Charlie were standing there.

  She looked at the ketchup bottle and milk carton.

  They had dropped harmlessly to the floor.

  “Ellie!” Mum stared in disbelief. “What in the name of –?”

  “Told you she was acting weird,” Charlie said. “Must be this place.”

  Mum’s face was stern.

  “I’m waiting, Ellie.”

  Ellie stood in silence.

  Mum grabbed a dishcloth from the sink and flung it at Ellie.

  “I know coming here has been difficult for you. But I thought you were more mature than to react in this silly way.”

  She pointed to the battle zone.

  “You can start by clearing all this up, right now. Then you can finish the rest of the unpacking. I don’t want you to do the guidebook any more. I’ll give it to someone who can be trusted.”

  She grabbed a plastic bag of folders from next to the TV set and strode out, followed by a grinning Charlie.