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But she felt the change in temperature that followed almost instantly. It roused her with a start.

The water she bathed in was suddenly chilled—no, it was cold and fast becoming freezing. It was as if it were congealing into ice.

Then, there in the absolute darkness, she heard its sound—ice crackling as it merged on the water's surface.

She lifted her leaden arms and her numbed hands came in contact with the thin icy layer. She pushed against it, but already it was firm and wouldn't break.

Her face, just above the waterline, felt the frigidity of the room itself. Her hair stiffened and crackled with ice particles and the cold beneath seemed to press on her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. She tried to call out, but drew in frosted air that constricted her throat. This could not be happening, it was beyond all reason! How could a bath full of heated water freeze over within seconds? It was insane!

The coldness about her body seemed heavy, hardened, and it clamped her limbs, making it almost impossible to move them. And each time she tried to suck in air so that she could scream for help, it was as though a rod of ice had rushed into her throat to stifle any sound. Instead of raising her hands, she pushed them against the bottom of the bath, using her heels too, hoping to break through the glacial surface with her shoulders, but she kept slipping on the porcelain, kept slithering on its slickness.

Desperately, she sharply brought up one knee, the foot of the other leg pressed hard against the end of the bath. She heard the ice crack, sensed it give a little, felt the impact on her knee. But the effort caused her head to sink further down into the water, which rushed up her nose and surged into her open mouth. She panicked even more and threw her body around, writhing in the icy thickness, kicking up with both knees now, one after the other, cracking, then breaking the frozen sheet. Her head and shoulders were completely underwater and her back pressed against the bath's solid bottom.

She was frantic, she was terrified. She did not want to drown.

With a massive effort, she lifted her torso, her forehead breaking through the thin layer of ice that was already forming over the opening where her head had been only moments before. She gulped in a huge breath, not caring that it froze her mouth and throat and invaded her lungs like an arctic breeze, just desperate to take in air so that she wouldn't die.

She opened her eyes to the darkness and that was when vice-like fingers clamped the top of her head and pushed her down again. She went under, not understanding, just fighting for her life, tossing herself around, squirming and wriggling, refusing to be still despite the cold, tight embrace of the water, twisting so that the iron hand that held her could not get a firm grip. Eve burst through the surface ice, this time further down in the bath, one leg over the side, the other one bent, her foot pushing against the slippery porcelain.

Blinking to clear her eyes, Eve perceived rather than saw the dark figure looming over her and this time she did scream, for it was an instinctive, animal cry that was not forced but came from sheer terror.

The piercing sound echoed round the tiled bathroom. Now two stunningly gelid hands grasped her, one in her hair, the other on her shoulder. They forced her down once more, but she struggled so much, the ice breaking up completely around her, that they could not keep her under. She heaved herself upwards, screamed again, and the bathroom door crashed open, dismal light from the landing pushing back the reluctant darkness.

Gabe rushed in and grabbed Eve, hauling her out of the bath, hugging her naked shuddering body close. He tried to calm her, squeezing her tight, hushing her sobs with quietly spoken words.

'It's all right, Eve, you're safe, I'm here.'

He quickly scanned the room and although it was shadowed, he could tell there was no one else in there.

But he smelt the thick cloying stink of strong soap mixed with decay and excrement.

49: COMFORT

'But I felt the water, Eve, and it wasn't cold. Tepid maybe, but for sure not icy like you say.'

'You have to believe me.'

'Maybe the light burning out like that scared you and you thought—'

'I didn't imagine what happened, Gabe. The light went off—'

'It was just the bulb. I checked. None of the other lights failed.'

'When the light went off the bathwater froze. Just suddenly froze! I was caught in it. Then someone—something—started to push me under. It was trying to drown me! A hand was on my head, it pushed me down. I didn't imagine it!'

'Okay, hon. I'm just trying to make sense of it all.' He didn't say anything about the noxious smell. At a stretch it might only have been the bathroom's ancient drains. He had to face it, though: he was looking for plausible reasons for the weird things going on in this house. 'I suppose really I don't want to believe in ghosts,' he admitted.

'How can you ignore everything that's gone on since the day we moved in?'

He was silent. Eve was right. He himself had witnessed the strange little glowing lights hovering round Cally while she played in her room; he, too, had heard the scuttling of small feet coming from the attic, and he had been there when the closet door had almost burst its hinges with the banging coming from inside.

Finally, he said: 'You're right, there's something wrong with this place, something bad here. Chester knew straightaway. S'why he hit the road.'

They were in their bedroom, both sitting on the edge of the bed, Eve with her bathrobe wrapped around her. Mercifully, and perhaps oddly, her screams had not awoken their daughters; they had slept on, the sleep of the innocents. The house was taking their energy.

Gabe slumped, bent over his knees, his hands clasped together. 'I'm beat,' he said. 'We've had enough. We gotta pull out, quit.'

'But there's something good here, too.'

'How can you know that?'

'I've sensed it. So has Lili.'

'We can't go through all that again. Look, if you're right, if Cam did make some kind of contact with you, he can do it wherever you are.' He thought she was deluding herself, but now wasn't the time to voice that opinion. Eve was in a fragile state, she was too strung out.

She leaned into him, one arm crossing to his shoulder. Gabe slipped his own arm round her waist.

'All right, Gabe, we'll leave.'

He let out a sigh of relief.

'But only after Lili Peel comes here again.'

'Eve…'

'Just one more time. We can also let Mr Pyke carry out his investigation, if that's what you want.'

'Doesn't seem much point if we're leaving.'

'As you said earlier, his investigation can do no harm. Besides, I'm interested in what he might find.'

'You just wanna see me proved wrong, is all.' He said it lightly.

'No, I want you to be satisfied.'

'You gonna be okay tonight?'

'I'll take a sleeping pill. I feel exhausted, but I doubt I'd sleep otherwise.' The house was sapping her strength too.

She softly kissed his cheek, aware of his confusion, confident of his love. Her lips lingered.

'I was so frightened, Gabe.'

'I know. That's why we have to go.'

Yes, she thought, they should leave Crickley Hall.

But not tomorrow.

50: FRIDAY

Eve took the breakfast bowls and mugs out of the hot soapy water and left them on the draining board to dry. She looked out the window at the habitually dismal day. Would this rain never stop? Sighing, she stripped off the rubber gloves and dropped them on the other side of the sink, then emptied the suds into the drain. Loren, disgruntled with tiredness, had finally gone off to school, while Cally, unusually for her, was still upstairs asleep. It would have been a shame to wake her, so worn was she last night; best to let her sleep it out.