Her heel kicked the first step and she and Loren came to a halt.
She prompted Pyke, who had not stopped advancing. 'How can a house want something from you?'
'By now, you're fully aware that Crickley Hall is possessed, Eve.'
Oh so friendly; his voice was so matter-of-fact and soothing. It was his eyes, those once so engaging eyes, that were deranged.
'You told us there were no such things as ghosts,' Eve said as she took the step with Loren, both of them moving backwards, their eyes never leaving Pyke's.
'No, I said in many cases there are perfectly natural explanations for what might be considered supernatural episodes or so-called manifestations. But—and I freely admit, they are in the minority—there sometimes are genuine hauntings that cannot be rationalized.'
'The children—their spirits—they really are here?' Moving as steadily as possible, Eve took the second step. Loren rose with her.
'Of course they are!'
Eve flinched at Pyke's anger.
'Can't you feel their presence, woman? Can't you see they're all around us? My God, they're almost visible.'
And as Pyke said the words, Eve thought she saw something flit among the shadows of the room. Small, insubstantial shapes. Lighter shades of darkness.
'But they aren't alone.' Pyke sounded perfectly reasonable once more as he limped towards Eve and Loren, now leaning heavily on his cane. 'Their guardian is with them. Augustus Cribben. You might say he was Maurice Stafford's lord and master.'
Mother and daughter had discreetly risen another step.
'Wasn't Augustus Cribben in charge here during the last world war?' Eve ventured warily. She wanted to keep Pyke distracted for the moment, afraid of the harm she was sure he meant to do them. She could see the insanity dancing in his eyes. 'He was the children's custodian and teacher, wasn't he?'
Her mouth was dry and she fought the urge to turn and run with Loren, to get to the bedroom where Cally slept and lock the door. Was there a key in the lock? Eve couldn't remember.
Pyke limped to a halt, his brown brogues in a puddle. His cane took some of his weight. 'Augustus Cribben was more than that: he was a god to his sister and me; we revered him. But the other evacuees? Well, they were just afraid of him.'
They were on the third step now; a few more and they would be on the little square landing at the turn of the stairs. That was when they'd make a break for it, Eve decided. She kept her voice steady, even though she wanted to scream and flee.
'The children were afraid because he was cruel to them. Wasn't that it?'
'Who told you that?' Anger shared the insanity of his gaze and it made him even more frightening. 'I suppose it was that old busybody, Percy Judd. Oh yes, I know he still keeps his job here as gardener and maintenance man. But he was always an outsider who liked to poke his nose into other people's affairs. He was a rather stupid individual then and I'm sure the passing years have added nothing to his intellectual powers. Hah! He probably still wonders whatever became of his sweetheart Miss High-and-mighty Nancy Linnet. Well, Magda and I attended to her.'
Eve dared to ask. 'You—you got rid of her?'
'No need to be coy, Eve.' The comity was back in his manner. 'She was a busybody too. We had to kill her, had no other choice really. We disposed of her body down the well.'
They could no longer wait until they reached the turn in the stairs: Eve jerked her daughter's hand and they both spun round as one and climbed as fast as they could.
But Gordon Pyke was surprisingly swift for a man of his size and age—the thought occurred to Eve as she ran that he must be in his seventies!—and he sprang forward and adroitly caught Eve's ankle with the hook of his walking stick. He yanked hard and she fell heavily against the next set of stairs, bringing Loren down with her. Eve grabbed at a rail as they slithered back down.
'Mummy!' Loren screeched, and Eve quickly put an arm round her as they sprawled there.
'It's all right, baby, it's all right.' Eve looked at Pyke, who had calmly sat down on the small landing, his right foot resting at an angle on the first step down, his left on the one below that. He laid his walking stick down behind him, its hooked end pointing at Eve. Lightning from outside lit up one side of his face as he looked their way and Eve thought his grin was the most evil grimace she had ever seen.
He waited as thunder split the air and rolled away into the distance. When it was quiet again he spoke. 'Please don't worry yourself, Eve. It isn't you I want.'
In the poor, generator-powered light she saw his grin slip to a smile and his eyes had lost that manic gleam she was so afraid of. He seemed his old charming self again. But Eve drew up her left leg so that her foot was out of reach.
•
Stretched out on the rain-sodden lawn, Lili murmured something that was not quite a word. The fingers of one of her hands had clenched, digging shallow grooves in the soil.
It wasn't exactly a dream she was having, it was more of an extrasensory perception that conveyed itself as if it were a dream.
Thoughts, sights, came to her. She began to see what had happened to the evacuees at Crickley Hall in the month of October sixty-three years ago.
•
'The little Jewish boy was the first of the children to go. You might say he was the cause of all their deaths. And the young teacher; she was partially to blame.'
Gordon Pyke had leant back against the rail so that he faced Eve and Loren on the stairs. His walking stick was close to hand should mother and daughter attempt to escape up the stairs again.
'Augustus and Magda Cribben hated the Jews, blamed them for the whole of World War Two, in fact,' Pyke sniggered. 'They thought Hitler had got it about right—exterminate all Jews, with their global intrigues and secret cabals. I honestly believe the Cribbens hoped the Germans would win the war.'
He gave a wry shake of his head and his thoughts lingered for a few moments.
Then: 'Now what was the boy's name? He was the youngest of the children. Oh yes, Stefan. Stefan Rosenberg. No, Stefan Rosenbaum, that was it. See how well I remember? It's as if it was yesterday. God, how angry Augustus was when he found out the authorities had foisted a Jew on him. And how the boy suffered because of it.'
Eve shivered and pulled Loren closer. Her daughter was trembling and seemed afraid to make a sound.
Pyke continued in his mild-mannered way. 'Our guardian made a discovery about the boy one day. I should mention that Augustus was very ill at the time. He'd always suffered severe headaches, according to his sister, Magda, but a head injury during the Blitz had caused more and, apparently, irrevocable damage to his brain. At least, that was Magda's opinion.
'Augustus was going through one of his bad spells when the headaches were almost paralysing, and Stefan Rosenbaum had done something wrong—I forget precisely what it was; I think he'd wet his bed, something like that—and Augustus was about to punish him. In a rage, Augustus made the boy drop his trousers—this time the misdemeanour was serious enough to warrant a caning on bare flesh. When Stefan did so, Augustus saw that he hadn't been circumcised. All Jewish males had to be circumcised, Augustus screamed. Magda pleaded with her brother, but this was the beginning of the madness…'
•
Lili's murmur became a groan. There were scenes being played out inside her head, like a dream but not a dream: it was a psychic vision. The event was in the past and it was shocking.
A little boy. A little boy with dark hair and large frightened eyes. He is in the grip of a man who seems familiar to Lili. The man is wicked. And insane.