Hollow Pike

by James Dawson

  ‘OK. How do I get to your place?’

  The Fulton Farm Estate was a far cry from the rest of Hollow Pike. The gateway to the housing estate had a burnt out minibus under a cheery sign welcoming residents home. The pebble-dashed houses were grey and tired, many entirely decrepit with sealed metal windows to prevent squatting. Some prouder members of the community had bravely tried to maintain pretty front gardens, but they were in stark contrast to the majority which had wild, overgrown jungles spilling onto the pavement. Lis couldn’t help wondering why so many of the properties had bathtubs in their gardens, and why there were so many cars with no wheels parked in the driveways.

  Lis was surprised that this could exist just a five-minute bus ride from Kitty’s palace on the hill. Deprivation and menace hung from the broken street lights. Delilah’s house was somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. There were no bathtubs or burned cars, but the garden was a borderline forest. Somehow, it worked; the most beautiful wild flowers grew up the sides of the house and trees with willowy leaves framed the home like a lace curtain.

  Pushing through a rusty gate, Lis approached the front door and knocked. A loud television blared from within, and then a door swung open to reveal a tall man with a trim goatee and long grey hair secured in a plait. He was wearing overalls covered in oil paints.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, smiling to reveal a gold tooth. ‘You must be this Lis we’ve heard all about. Come on in.’ Lis warmed to him immediately. He looked like a friendly pirate.

  Then Delilah pushed past him. ‘Hey, Lis. Come up to my room,’ she said, seizing Lis’s hand and dragging her into the house.

  The cramped lounge was stuffed with mismatched furniture and smelled a lot like cigarettes and marijuana. Lis vaguely made out the shape of Delilah’s brother playing a console game, but was hauled past too quickly to be introduced.

  They sprinted up stairs cluttered with mugs and telephone directories until they came to a landing. One bedroom was partitioned off with a curtain for some reason, but Delilah took her past that and into the next room. It was probably a small room, although Lis couldn’t be certain as the space had been almost entirely filled with books. Every surface was piled with literature of all shapes and sizes. Delilah had even foregone a bed frame and wardrobe in order to create more storage for her novels. There was a single mattress pushed tightly into a corner and a rail to hang her clothes on. The room flickered in the glow of tea-light candles alight in jam jars on top of the book towers. The room was so Delilah.

  ‘Wow, great room!’

  ‘Thanks, darling. And thanks for coming so promptly.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ Lis wondered where she was meant to sit. ‘What’s up?’

  Delilah motioned for Lis to join her on the mattress. ‘Lis, I’m freaking out.’

  ‘Why?’ Lis could tell she wasn’t messing around. Delilah looked like she might vomit; she was even paler than normal.

  ‘If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone? It’s really, seriously, catastrophically bad.’

  ‘OK . . .’ Lis agreed, wondering what the secret was – there were some biggies flying around this town.

  ‘Last summer, before you arrived, I got really drunk at this barbecue at Rachel Williams’ house. Kitty wasn’t there because, you know, she thinks they’re all a bunch of wannabe tossers . . .’

  Lis smiled despite herself. ‘And?’

  ‘And I ended up cheating on her.’

  ‘Oh! Right. Who with?’

  ‘That’s the worst part. It was with Cameron Green,’ Dee wailed.

  ‘What?’ Lis exploded like a firework. ‘Don’t tell me you . . .’

  Tears rolled down Delilah’s face. ‘Oh, God, no! It was just a messy clinch really. On a pile of coats. I was so wasted. I regretted it straight away; it was so stupid.’

  Lis was lost for words. What had Delilah been thinking?

  ‘Please don’t tell Kitty!’

  ‘I won’t, I won’t,’ Lis promised. ‘But it’s in the past now. Why worry?’

  Delilah picked up one of the diaries – the baby blue volume. ‘It’s in Laura’s diary. It’s why she dumped Cameron. If Kitty sees this . . .’

  Lis drew Delilah into a hug. ‘What are we going to do with you, eh?’

  ‘I didn’t know who else I could tell,’ Dee sobbed.

  Lis took the notebook from her. ‘Look, what if we tear out that entry? Could we do that without it changing anything else?’

  Delilah wiped her eyes on the Pizza Factory fleece. ‘I think so. But isn’t it wrong? It’s Laura’s last word, you know?’

  ‘I don’t think it has anything to do with what happened, though, do you?’

  ‘I don’t know. Cameron didn’t like being dumped.’

  Lis opened the book and started flicking through the handwritten pages. Laura’s girlish loopy writing sloped across the journal. ‘Really? Well, look, Kitty’s hardly likely to want to read these diaries word for word. We can just tell her the important stuff and fail to mention the bit about you and Cameron. What else was in the diaries? Any other clues?’

  ‘Not really.’ Delilah pulled herself together, looking happier. ‘The first three books were pointless – mainly lists of people she did and didn’t like.’

  ‘I used to keep a death list,’ Lis admitted. ‘Not now though, I’d like to make that very clear!’

  Dee managed a feeble smile. ‘There were a couple of interesting things in this one. Listen to this . . . “Dear Diary”, blah, blah, blah, “I can’t believe what Cameron did with that pikey skank bitch”. Nice, thanks, Laura. “I’m done with Fulton boys – except Danny, he’s different”.’

  ‘She didn’t sleep with Danny, did she?’ Lis didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if Laura had.

  ‘I don’t think so. If she did, it’s not in this volume.’

  ‘Where’s the next one?’

  ‘I don’t know. This is the last one and it finishes in July,’ Delilah said. ‘But things seemed to change in this one.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, Laura thought her dad might be having an affair, for one thing, and she also wasn’t very well. She was seeing a doctor for a sleep disorder.’

  What little stale air there was in the poky bedroom seemed to be sucked out through the walls and Lis struggled for breath. ‘Wh-what was wrong?’ But she knew the answer before Delilah even opened her mouth.

  ‘She was having nightmares. Listen. “Dear Diary, I’m so tired, but I’m scared to close my eyes. Why can’t I just dream about Taylor Lautner like everyone else? No. I get to crawl about in the copse. It’s so stupid. Now, in the day time, it doesn’t even seem scary, but I can’t think of any words to describe what it’s like once I’m asleep. I’m soooooo tired. Mum says the doctor will help, but every night is the same and I don’t see how the doctor can change my dreams”.’ Delilah stopped. ‘Lis? Are you OK?’

  The room was now spinning all around Lis. ‘No, I am seriously not OK.’

  ‘Darling, you’re freaking me out a bit. Have you taken something?’

  ‘No. Dee . . . I have the same nightmare.’

  ‘Eh? I don’t know if that’s—’

  ‘Possible? Well, looks like it is,’ Lis snapped.

  Delilah put the diary down, but she was unwilling to meet Lis’s gaze.

  ‘What is it?’ Lis asked.

  ‘Well, if you’re having the same dreams . . .’

  ‘Delilah, just spit it out, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Well, listen to the final entry. “Dear Diary. WTF? How random is this? Got home and there’s a dead bird on my bed. How grim is that? It must have flown in through my bedroom window, or something, and died! It’s minging. Mum is clearing it away now, but she’s being really weird about it”.’ Delilah stopped and looked at Lis pointedly. ‘Another bird. What do you think that means?’

  Lis stood up and paced across the room, her head spinning. ‘Laura got a bird and she died. Dee, I got a bird too . . .�
��

  Delilah shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t mean that!’

  ‘Is it a sign? Am I next?’

  Her friend had no answer to that one. Needing to steady herself, Lis leaned on one of the towers of books that rested against the wall. She started to feel her heartbeat slowing down. Then she saw the book her hand was resting on: An Occult History of Hollow Pike.

  Tick Tock

  Delilah realised at the same time Lis did. She sprang off the bed, red-faced and caught red-handed. She dove for the book, but Lis whipped it off the top of the pile and out of her reach.

  ‘Delilah, why do you have this book?’ she demanded.

  Delilah groaned. ‘Oh, Lis, I know what it looks like . . .’

  ‘Really? What does it look like? I think it looks like you blatantly lied to my face!’ Lis snapped.

  ‘Well, what was I meant to do?’ said Delilah, back on the verge of tears. She tried to take the book, but Lis held onto it. ‘After Laura died, the papers said it was a ritual thing and I panicked! I mean, what would you have done?’

  ‘Erm, told the truth? Delilah, what am I meant to think? You have the book and you were in the forest. Did you . . . ?’

  Delilah collapsed onto the mattress. She pulled her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. ‘No, of course I didn’t. Don’t be insane!’

  ‘OK . . . gonna need some sort of explanation in the next five seconds . . .’

  ‘You don’t know what it’s like, Lis. I always screw up. Everything I touch turns to crap. It always has. Just ask my mum; she couldn’t get out of here quick enough. You’ll leave me. Kitty’ll leave me when she finds out what I did with Cameron. Everyone leaves me sooner or later.’

  Lis saw the lost little girl on the mattress and felt for her. She seemed almost frail, like a baby bird that had tumbled out of the nest. She crouched down next to Delilah, not letting go of the book. ‘No one’s going to leave you, OK? But you’d better tell me what you’re doing with this book, right now. Dee, I’m not kidding.’

  Delilah peeked over her knees. ‘What can I say? I’m a witch.’

  ‘Oh. My. God.’

  ‘A modern witch. No brooms, no pointy hats and no ritual sacrifice! Is it that hard to understand? My mum was Wiccan, so are my dad and step-mum. Earth magic – it’s songs and chants and charms. It isn’t Buffy. I can’t do lightning bolts or fly! And it’s peaceful. What happened to Laura is nothing to do with Wicca. That was something else – something much, much darker.’

  Lis scanned the bookshelves: Teen Witch, A Modern Guide to Wiccan Practice, Candles for Beginners. It all seemed pretty innocent. Nonetheless, she needed to be sure. ‘Delilah, how can I believe a single word you say? You lied!’

  Exhausted, Delilah rolled her eyes. ‘Lis, sweetie, it’s only a silly little book at the end of the day. I took it to read. I haven’t been using it as an instruction manual for ritual murder!’

  A wry smile edged across Lis’s face. ‘But it doesn’t look good, Dee. Think about how Laura died. It was a ritual thing. We saw the photos.’

  ‘And it was way beyond me. I don’t even know what kind of magic that is.’

  ‘What does Kitty think?’

  ‘Kitty doesn’t even know I stole the book,’ Delilah confessed.

  Lis sensed that she was getting the truth now. ‘Fine. Does the book shed any light on what’s happening?’

  Delilah reached for it and this time Lis handed it over. ‘It’s actually fascinating.’ Delilah opened the book to a page she’d marked. ‘I didn’t realise the extent of the legends.’

  ‘About Hollow Pike?’

  ‘Absolutely. Did you know Roman soldiers wouldn’t attack the village because they thought it was protected by the gods?’

  Lis shook her head.

  ‘Infertile women used to come here to see witch doctors. Druids used to make a pilgrimage here for summer solstice – pretty major stuff!’

  ‘What changed?’

  ‘The witch trials in the seventeenth century,’ Delilah said, and her eyes looked dark in the candlelight. ‘All the Hollow Pike witches were hanged, burned or drowned.’ Delilah turned to another bookmarked page showing an old etching of a young woman bound to a stake as tongues of fire licked at her feet. All around, the villagers of Hollow Pike looked on, watching her burn.

  Lis puffed out her cheeks. ‘Well, it looks like they missed one because someone in this town is still all about weird ritual sacrifices!’

  ‘It looks that way,’ Delilah agreed sombrely.

  Companionable silence fell over the room. The thought of tiny little Delilah taking on Laura was ridiculous, Lis knew that, but when would she finally feel like an insider? She was getting tired of all the skeletons tumbling out of closets (or lockers). ‘Tomorrow we’re taking that book back to Mrs Gillespie, OK? She’s pretty pissed off.’

  Delilah opened her mouth to argue, but on seeing Lis’s Kitty-like expression, she gave in. ‘OK,’ she sighed.

  The next morning, Lis and Delilah skipped first period in order to return the stolen tome to its rightful owner. There was something taboo about being in town during school hours, and Lis felt closer to Delilah now that they were both playing truant. The fact that they’d shared secrets had also created a strange sense of sisterhood.

  Lis saw Hollow Pike in a totally different light now that the witchcraft fiction was rapidly becoming fact. Every dark corner and slim alleyway was now filled with imaginary witches and murderers. The market was all hustle and bustle. It seemed bright and friendly but, through Lis’s knowing eyes, it was suddenly sinister. She saw a stall holder reach under a curtain to hand a customer a plain brown package – was it just fruit or something magical and mysterious?

  One stall was selling pet supplies and some smaller animals, such as hamsters and gerbils. As Lis passed, just for a split second, she thought she saw the salesman hand a woman a thin green snake, the serpent briefly coiling around the lady’s wrist before she dropped it into her handbag. What sort of town was she living in? Or was her imagination simply working overtime?

  They turned off the main street and headed down the winding cobbled alley that led to the Friends of the Church shop. Lis felt nervous, but she was glad to be out of the claustrophobic market.

  ‘What are we actually going to say?’ Delilah asked when they reached the door.

  ‘I think we should be honest. I don’t think she’s that bad, underneath it all,’ Lis replied.

  ‘Careful, you’re sounding a bit Sesame Street, Lis.’

  Lis laughed and the pair burst through the door on the count of three.

  They immediately froze. They were so busted; at the counter was Mrs Gillespie, looking as hideous as ever, with Ms Dandehunt, their headmistress. The oddest part was that the look on the head’s face suggested she’d been caught in the act. Whatever conversation the two women had been having stopped dead, the pair as rigid as the ancient mannequins in the window.

  ‘Hello, children!’ Ms Dandehunt said brightly, snapping out of her statue state. ‘How are you on this lovely morning?’

  Lis was unsure how to respond so she remained silent. Unfortunately so did Dee. Lis attempted a smile, but the atmosphere in the store was so tense she could hardly move her facial muscles.

  ‘Mrs Gillespie and I were just finalising some plans for the Winter Fayre,’ Ms Dandehunt went on. ‘Mrs Gillespie always donates some things to the bric-a-brac stall.’

  ‘That’s right. Bric-a-brac,’ Mrs Gillespie put in, touching her ruby red lips with a gloved hand.

  ‘Oh, OK,’ Lis replied.

  Ms Dandehunt zipped up her bright green cagoule and pulled an orange pom-pom hat over her bowl cut. ‘Righty-ho! I’d best be off, although it’s always lovely to see you girls.’

  Their headmistress wobbled out of the shop. Without a doubt, it had been one of the strangest encounters of Lis’s life. Ms Dandehunt hadn’t been able to get out of the shop fast enough, and she hadn’t even mentioned their obvious truancy!
Lis longed to know what the two women had been discussing. She seriously doubted it was bric-a-brac. Lis found it hard to imagine the women even being friends. They were both bonkers, of course, but Ms Dandehunt was as cuddly as Mrs Gillespie was creepy.

  As Lis wondered about it, Delilah approached the counter.

  ‘I didn’t know you knew Ms Dandehunt,’ she said to Mrs Gillespie.

  ‘Small town like Hollow Pike, everyone knows everyone,’ the crone said, picking up a pricing gun. ‘Now, I assume you’re here to return something you picked up by accident?’

  ‘Me gustaría tres pasteles, por favor,’ Jack’s accent butchered the Spanish tongue once again.

  ‘You want three pastels?’ Lis asked.

  ‘Three cakes.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’

  Lis and Delilah had rejoined school before second period and were now safely in their Spanish class. They’d told Mr Gray that they’d needed to visit the Family Planning Clinic and he’d ushered them in without another word. Male teachers were always so easy in that way, mention sex or periods and they turned to stone – a modern Medusa effect.

  Kitty looked over her shoulder and whispered, ‘So what did Laura’s diary say?’

  ‘Nothing juicy,’ Delilah hissed back. ‘She thought her dad was having an affair with someone at work. She saw them having a steamy lunch.’

  ‘That’d explain the Birmingham hotel bit,’ Jack pointed out.

  ‘And why Mrs Rigg won’t back him up,’ Kitty added. ‘But I can’t see why he’d cut out Laura’s heart for that. Bit extreme!’

  Delilah then told them of the dead bird that Laura had discovered on her bed. Lis’s blood ran cold once more. Too many similarities: the dreams, the birds, even the same crush! And Laura’s mum had commented on how she and Laura looked alike.

  Chancing a glance over her shoulder, Lis saw Danny watching her. Flushing red, he turned away, pretending to be interested in the Spanish exercise. Then he looked back, his gaze lingering longer than it should, and it was Lis’s turn to blush.

  ‘Maybe we should keep looking for the fifth diary,’ Delilah finished. ‘It seems likely she carried on after the last entry.’