The cottage was once the property of Patrick Grenham, a hermit who lived there with his dog in the early part of the century. It is reputed that Grenham got lost in the woods looking for his pet on a winter’s night and died in the cold weather. The rumours are that his ghost wanders the woods constantly, searching for his lost companion. He has been spotted on numerous occasions since his death, but this was the first sighting in a number of years.
‘When my husband saw me, he told me I looked like I’d seen a ghost,’ Dolores said. ‘He thought it was fierce funny that that’s what he said when I told him shortly afterwards what had really happened, but I don’t think it was funny at all.’
Luckily, Dexter the dog turned up safe and sound later that day, but Dolores won’t be venturing into the dark woods any time soon.
‘Not if I live to be a hundred will I ever go in there again,’ she said. ‘And I’ll be warning everyone else to stay away as well.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘So, are you ready?’ Hannah asked.
‘Ready?’ It dawned on Amelia what she was being asked. ‘You want to go now?’
‘Gravest Danger doesn’t finish until you’ve completed the last test,’ Chris said, while checking something on his mobile phone. ‘But we’ll have to hurry up – Sam and I have to get home soon.’
Amelia did her best to hide her panic at what lay ahead.
‘It’s OK, you know,’ Brian said. ‘You don’t have to do it if you’re scared.’
‘Who said I was scared? Course I’m going to do it . . . Right, let’s go, then,’ she said.
‘That’s the spirit,’ Sam said. He was thrilled to be doing something. He really didn’t like just sitting around all the time.
The woods weren’t far away and the easiest way to access them was by crossing the fields at the bottom of Hannah’s garden. She’d told her mother that they were going for a walk and that they’d be back in an hour, so it wasn’t as if they were heading off on some far-flung trek. Amelia picked her way around some cow dung, wondering if she would ever get used to the smell of the countryside.
They climbed a gate at the end of the first field, then squeezed through a gap at the bottom of the second until they reached a third, one where a flock of sheep was spread out, munching grass.
‘They’re not going to attack, are they?’ Amelia asked.
‘No, you’re safe enough. Sheep attacks are rare events,’ Chris said.
‘Did I tell you about my prank last night?’ Sam asked.
Hannah and Brian groaned. ‘Please tell me it’s not more Trick Whittington,’ Hannah said.
‘What’s Trick Whittington?’ Amelia asked.
‘My brother likes playing childish pranks on people, you know, the usual ones – salt in the sugar bowl, cling film over the toilet seat. Last night, he woke me up at about two in the morning, dressed as a zombie—’
‘It really freaked him out. He ran down the hallway screaming, waking up everyone in the house and then he slammed into the bathroom door and almost broke his nose. I never laughed so much in all my life,’ Sam said, smiling at the memory. ‘There were tears rolling down my cheeks and everything.’
‘Yep, absolute terror followed by physical injury. Just a typical night at home,’ Chris said.
‘I got Adeyinka to do the zombie make-up before she went to bed,’ Sam continued. ‘Took nearly two hours with all the caked blood and everything, and then I had to stay awake for another few hours to make sure Chris was in a deep sleep, but it was totally worth it.’
‘When he does stuff like that, he says he’s not really responsible, that it’s some kind of mysterious alter ego playing the pranks, someone he likes to call Trick Whittington after Dick Whittington in the old fairy tale,’ Chris said.
‘I really don’t know what to say to that,’ Amelia said.
‘There’s nothing to say,’ Hannah said. ‘Sure you still want to join the club?’
The final field was steeply banked, which made it difficult to traverse. At the end of the sloping greenery lay the forest, dark and unwelcoming.
‘The cabin is in there?’ Amelia asked, hoping that someone would contradict her.
‘Technically, it’s a cottage, not a cabin. We call it Cabin in the Woods in the game because it sounds cooler.’
Without warning, Sam set off down the slope, running as fast as he could, his legs almost a blur.
‘He’s going to fall,’ Hannah said. She said it wearily, like she’d seen this sort of behaviour from him a hundred times before.
And, right on cue, he did fall. He stumbled for a moment, windmilling his arms to try to regain his balance, but his momentum was too great and he went head over heels, then tumbled sideways, his body bouncing around, before he rolled to a stop at the edge of the forest. He was hidden by the thick, untamed grass.
He popped up suddenly, a big fake smile plastered on his face, trying to look perfectly normal.
‘I’m OK,’ he shouted, but when he started walking again he appeared to be trying to disguise a limp.
‘Why would anyone build a house out here? It’s so far from anywhere,’ Amelia said.
‘Newpark didn’t exist when the cottage was first built. There was a road here once, but it hasn’t been used in a long, long time. It’s all covered over with moss and weeds and earth now,’ Chris said.
‘It’s not too late to back out, you know,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s only a game.’
‘No, no, I don’t want to back out. I’m looking forward to this,’ Amelia lied.
They followed Sam’s path down the slope until they reached the edge of the forest. They could hear the gurgling of a stream just beyond the brambles that barred their path. Sam and Brian and Hannah stamped them down until their way was clear.
Once they stepped inside the forest, Amelia felt a coldness grip her spine as the daylight fell away. She looked back to reassure herself that the world was still there and of course it was. There was the sloping field and the sun in the sky and, reassuringly, Hannah and Brian, and Sam and Chris.
‘OK, let’s go,’ Brian said, striding purposefully forward.
‘This poltergeist,’ Amelia began, broaching the subject gently as she carefully picked her way along the forest path – even when terrified she was determined not to scuff her good shoes, ‘you don’t really believe in it, do you?’
‘Lots of people have seen it over the years,’ Brian said, thrashing at a stray thorn branch with a stick he’d picked up. ‘None of them have ever gone back in the woods again and they’ve sworn they never will.’
Amelia gulped.
‘I don’t believe in it. It’s ridiculous,’ Chris said. ‘Let’s look at it logically. First of all—’
‘He always tries to ruin everything with facts and logic,’ Brian grumbled.
‘Hey, don’t worry about it, Amelia. You’ll be fine,’ Sam said. ‘At least there’s no other dangerous creatures in the forest. If we were in Africa, we could be getting mauled by a tiger right now.’
‘No, we couldn’t,’ Chris said. ‘There are no tigers in Africa.’
‘Of course there are. Where else would they be hanging around? Dublin?’ Brian said.
‘Come on, Brian. You know Chris watches all those David Attenborough programmes. What’s the point in arguing with him?’ Sam said.
It took them another ten minutes to reach the cottage. It was built from stone and it was surprisingly intact. The windows weren’t broken; the roof wasn’t full of holes. There were streaks of black on the whitewash and what may once have been a garden had grown wild. Weeds crept and wound their way around the bottom of the stonework, but not the front door itself.
‘That’s weird,’ Chris said.
‘What?’ Brian asked.
‘The weeds at the front door—’
‘Hey, guys,’ Hannah interrupted, ‘don’t mean to rush you or anything, but you’ve got that family night and my mum wants me back by seven. If I’m late, you know what happens.’
‘Grounded for days,’ Brian, Chris and Sam said in unison.
‘For being late? Why are they so strict?’ Amelia asked.
‘Because Hannah was crazy when she was young and kept giving them heart attacks by doing all kinds of stuff,’ Sam said.
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘She once released the handbrake on the car and crashed it into a wall,’ Chris said. ‘Another time she brought home a stray Rottweiler she said was her new best friend and it ate half the couch.’
‘And she accidentally paid for a holiday to the Arctic online. Cost them thousands of euro,’ Brian said.
‘She climbed on the roof of the house while they were in the garden. They were terrified she was going to fall off,’ Sam said.
‘I wasn’t going to fall. I’m an excellent climber,’ Hannah said.
‘I think that was the one that sent them over the edge. Her mother hasn’t been the same since and her dad started going grey after that,’ Chris said.
‘So now they watch her like a hawk the whole time. It’s kind of funny,’ Sam said.
‘It’s not funny. It’s really annoying. I have to be sneaky or else I don’t get to do anything that’s fun,’ Hannah said. ‘I don’t want to talk about them any more.’
‘So what now?’ Amelia asked.
‘Now, you go in,’ Hannah said.
Somehow, Amelia had known she was going to say that.
‘You’re not going to lock the door once I’ve gone inside?’ Amelia asked.
‘No way,’ Chris said. ‘That’d be cruel.’
‘It’d be funny, though,’ Sam said. He waved his arms about and spoke in a girlish voice. ‘Aarrgh, I’m trapped in here with a murderous ghost. Aaaaargggh.’
When Hannah scowled at him, he decided it might not be that funny after all.
Hannah explained to Amelia what her two Gravest Danger tasks were: she had to spend a full five minutes in the cottage and take a selfie in front of the old stone fireplace in the living room. That was it. Once she’d left the cottage having done both those things, she’d be a fully fledged member of the Misfits Club, whether she liked it or not.
‘Five minutes, right? I can manage that easily.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Hannah said.
She held up her hand for a high-five. Amelia gently patted it, then, when Hannah wasn’t looking, wiped her hand clean on a tissue.
The thought of going into the cottage made her queasy. There could be anything in there – fat juicy spiders, mice, giant rats. She felt her resolve draining away. Ghosts or poltergeists might end up being the least of her worries.
‘If you panic and want to get out of there, then shout,’ Brian said.
‘I won’t panic,’ she said firmly.
She pushed through the front door. It creaked open. Some of the wood was rotting and looked as if it would crumble to the touch.
‘Good luck,’ Hannah said Amelia stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind her.
And then Amelia was alone.
Almost immediately, she heard a noise. It turned out to be her own panicked breathing. Before she took another step, she started the countdown timer on her phone. Even though Chris had said he’d time it, she wanted to know how long she had left.
All she had to do was find the fireplace, take the photograph, then get back to the front door, wait for the knock and it would all be over.
The odour in the house was mouldy, an unpleasant woody dampness. The light from her phone flitted along the old stone walls, sending the darkness scurrying to the corners.
There were only three rooms in the cottage and to Amelia’s relief she was able to find the living room immediately. It was filled with discarded furniture and clumps of grass grew through cracks in the concrete floor. If Amelia had been less nervous, she might have noticed that although the sofa in the centre of the living room wasn’t brand new, neither was it from the early 1900s.
‘Do you think she’s scared?’ Hannah asked, squinting through a window.
Although she’d only known Amelia for a couple of hours, she felt strangely protective of her.
‘It’s not that scary in there,’ Brian said.
‘If you don’t believe in ghosts,’ Hannah said. ‘But what if you do?’
‘Where are you going?’ Chris asked.
Hannah reached for the door. ‘I’m not leaving her in there if she’s scared. It’s not right.’
She pulled at the handle, but the door didn’t open. It was stuck. It must have jammed when Amelia pulled it closed behind her.
Amelia nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the door handle jiggling.
‘The door’s a bit stuck, but there’s no need to worry,’ Hannah shouted.
‘You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ Amelia replied.
‘If you want to come out, let us know and we’ll get the door open,’ Chris said.
‘Fine, but stay quiet for now. The poltergeist is hardly likely to turn up if you’re all chatting outside like a bunch of old people in a coffee shop.’
‘She’s bossy,’ Brian said. ‘That’s just what this club needs – someone bossing us around.’
There was an air of sadness in the living room. Amelia couldn’t pinpoint the reason why, but it was there, like morning mist on a river. She glanced at her mobile to check the countdown timer, forgetting about the light from the phone’s torch until she’d shone it directly into her own eyes, blinding herself for a moment.
‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ she said, rubbing her eyelids with her free hand. ‘What’s wrong with me? I get over ninety per cent in every exam and I nearly burn my own eyeballs.’
She turned the phone at an angle so she could read the screen. Three minutes and sixteen seconds left. All she had to do was to walk to the fireplace and take a selfie. If she could get her legs to move. Why wouldn’t they move?
Because she knew that the poltergeist was right behind her.
CHAPTER SIX
She spun round, her heart pounding so much she felt like it would burst out of her chest. But there was nothing there. Nothing at all.
It had just been her imagination – of course there was no poltergeist.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she focused on what was real – the small window to the left of the fireplace – criss-crossed with thin wooden slats. Outside in the forest, all was dark. She took another step forward.
And another.
Before she knew it, she was by the fireplace. It was time to take the photograph. She remembered to switch off the torch setting this time. She didn’t like the sudden darkness.
‘T-take the photo, Amelia,’ she said. The words stuttered from her mouth.
She found the camera icon, and switched to selfie mode, the ghostly dark outline of her own face on the screen shocking her for a moment. She held it up, faked a smile and pressed the button.
The flash popped. She had planned to take two or three pictures, but the moment the light flashed, she heard the wail. Then . . .
DUMPH!
Something outside the cottage thudded against the wall behind her.
Amelia didn’t wait to find out what it was.
She ran.
And fell over the couch, landing on the ground in a mixture of dirt and dust. Cobwebs tangled in her hair. She flapped at them, then wiped a hand over her face, making sure there was nothing on her – no creatures, no poltergeists.
Amelia heard a little girl scream. She stopped dead, too afraid to move.
It took a moment before she realized she was the one who’d let out the scream. She scrambled to her feet, and somehow made it through the doorway and into the hall. She slammed up against the front door and thumped on it.
‘Let me out, let me out.’
The Misfits were on the other side, strung out in single file, one behind each other, involved in a tug of war with the door.
It opened and Amelia fell forward against Brian, starting a domino effect. One by one the
y all toppled on to the ground.
Hannah was the first one up. She grabbed Amelia’s hand.
‘Run,’ Hannah said.
Amelia didn’t need to be told twice.
‘I don’t want to die,’ Chris screeched.
Nobody looked behind to see who or what was after them. Nobody wasted time checking. Nobody wanted to see what it was, or what it might be, or what form it might take. They just ran and tripped and bumped against each other and ran again, racing through the forest until they could see the sun and the fields ahead of them and they were free of the darkness.
Even as they emerged back into the real world, they kept running until they were half a kilometre beyond the forest’s edge and they all collapsed into a quivering, exhausted heap.
‘So, no such thing as poltergeists, huh?’ Sam said, when he’d recovered enough to speak.
Amelia’s hands were trembling and her mouth was dust-dry. When she glanced across at Hannah she saw that even though she had turned as pale as any poltergeist, she also had a huge grin slapped on her face. Surely, she couldn’t have enjoyed the terror?
‘Who said it was a poltergeist?’ Brian asked, sweat drenching the back of his head.
He hauled Hannah to her feet.
‘Well, if it wasn’t a poltergeist, why were we running?’ she asked, her words all tumbling together with excitement.
‘I ran because Amelia came out of there screaming her head off about a ghost,’ Sam said, ‘but I do feel kind of cowardly about it now.’
‘I didn’t scream my head off,’ Amelia snapped.
Her natural politeness had been pushed to one side by her recent experiences.
‘You were babbling on about a ghost or something and then when the door opened you pushed through us,’ Brian said.
The Misfits Club Page 4
