Oliver opened his mouth to answer but his grandfather dove towards May before he had a chance.
"And this must be May. Aren't you a beauty? At least those parents of yours left you something, eh? Whoever they were."
Oliver noticed May's cheeks touch with the familiar hint of crimson that often appeared in front of strangers.
"Thank you," she said quietly, shaking Ely's outstretched hand. "You don't look old enough to be our grandfather."
Ely chuckled, running a hand through his hair and Oliver suddenly noticed there were, in fact, flecks of grey in it. "You're very kind but I can assure you I'm quite ancient." He rubbed his eyes as if he were weary and when he took his hand away Oliver noticed heavy creases around them.
Oliver frowned, wondering why he had ever thought the man looked so young.
Their grandfather's expression became grave as he surveyed them. "But of course you must both be feeling quite distraught about your mother. I'm sure she'll turn up soon, no doubt there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for her disappearance."
Oliver nodded stiffly, thinking of Hawking once more and May mumbled her assent.
Mr Greene moved in front of them and offered his own palm in greeting. "Good to see you again, Mr Fox. We've had a long trip from London, would you mind if we went inside?"
"Not at all, not at all. Follow me," Ely said, spinning on his heel and traipsing back into the house.
They followed him and arrived in an impressive hallway where the wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet. The trunk of the tree grew up through the centre of the room, almost six feet wide with a carved, circular door hanging open on silver hinges. Inside, an alluring staircase of polished wood spiralled upwards out of sight.
"What do you think, guys?" Mr Greene asked excitedly.
"It's, different," Oliver said slowly.
"Yeah, great," May said uncertainly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
A tip-tapping noise came down the stairs. It grew louder and louder until a large, long-bodied black cat appeared at the bottom wearing a fancy bow tie around its neck. Its eyes were circular and fiery orange in colour. The animal sat and trilled a loud meow.
Ely lifted the creature into the air and the cat snuggled into his arms, looking back at them curiously. "This is Humphrey," Ely announced.
May stepped forward and petted him, making the cat purr loudly.
"Is there somewhere we could talk privately, Mr Fox? There are a few final things we need to go over," Mr Greene said.
Ely nodded and placed Humphrey on the floor where the cat began weaving in between his legs.
"Of course, not a problem." Ely turned to Oliver and May. "Why don't you go and get your things in from the car? Then I can show you two to your rooms," he said, dismissing them and ushering Mr Greene through a door to their left.
Oliver went back to the car and the driver popped the boot. He swung his bag onto his back and chucked May's to her before walking back up to the house.
"I can't believe this is happening," May said, fiddling with the strap of her bag.
"We'll just be here 'til they find her. This place isn't that bad," he said.
"Yeah, but it's not home," she said, almost accusingly.
"I didn't say it was," Oliver said with a frown.
They returned to the hallway where Mr Greene was shaking Ely's hand as they said their goodbyes. Mr Greene turned to them as they entered.
"If you have any problems you can always give me a ring," he said in a serious tone, passing them each a card with his contact details on. "I'll let you know if there's any news on your mother's whereabouts. Just sit tight."
Mr Greene clapped Oliver on the shoulder and walked through the front door, leaving him feeling thoroughly abandoned.
"Wonderful. Cheery-bye," Ely said, shutting the large, wooden door with a bang that echoed up through the house. He turned to Oliver and May. "Follow me."
Ely disappeared into the tree trunk as he ascended the staircase with Humphrey trotting merrily after him. Oliver placed a foot on the first step and looked up to see the stairway spiralling out of sight above him.
As they climbed, he caught glimpses of corridors that led away from the staircase. Some were dark and uninviting whilst others bright and intriguing. They reached the higher levels where tree branches curved along the ceiling and stretched out into the sunlight through crumbling holes in the walls.
Ely led them down a wide corridor where vines were splayed across the wallpaper resembling long, spindly fingers. They reached two doors on either side of a vast, amber-tinted window which caused a warm light to be cast across the mahogany floor.
"This is your room, May." Ely gestured to the room on the right. "It was your mother's when she was growing up," he said with a sad smile.
Oliver instantly burned with curiosity.
"And, Oliver, you'll be staying in my son's old room. Your uncle Pilford was a bit of a neat-freak but you can be as messy or as tidy as you like." He smiled.
Oliver started at the news that he had an uncle and felt a pang of fury at his mother for never telling him. He buried the feeling as guilt writhed inside his stomach like a worm. He didn't want to be angry at her until she had returned safe and sound.
Oliver stepped up to the tall door, turned the intricate handle at its centre with a squeak of metal then moved into the room.
The ceiling was high but the bedroom felt cosy. It was swathed in rose-tinted, evening sunlight that bled into the room from a glass-paned door which led onto a balcony. A small fireplace crackled quietly on one side and a bed was tucked in a corner next to it.
There was a worn, red armchair in front of the fire and a teak bookcase sat beside it. Oliver approached it and found the shelves empty. Dust marked the edges where books had sat, suggesting they had recently been removed. He frowned, wondering why they hadn't been left in place.
Oliver turned and went through the glass door, gazing out from the balcony. It overlooked a steep garden that ran down to a mass of trees, beyond which, were fields and farmland as far as the eye could see. Magenta-coloured clouds hung in the sky which was painted in pastel shades of pink, orange and purple. It was so unlike the city townhouse he was used to but he couldn't deny that the setting was beautiful.
Looking up, Oliver saw the large canopy of the tree that grew through the house, swaying in the wind. Withered, brown leaves came floating down in a sudden breeze that caused the hairs on his arms to rise.
He noticed that the balcony allowed him to enter May's room so he moved across the platform, slid the other door open and joined his sister and Ely.
Oliver recognised his mother's style in the decoration of the large room. Soft, pink cushions were piled on the bed and silk curtains hung around the balcony door. There was an oak wardrobe on one side of the room and an exquisite dressing table which held trinkets he itched to examine. With a flutter of fear he recalled her devastated room back at their old house but forced the image away.
"What do you think of your room?" Ely asked him.
"It's great. Thank you," Oliver said, a little overwhelmed.
"No need to thank me. I'm more than happy to have you here. It really is marvellous to meet you both finally."
"Why haven't we met you before?" May asked, turning to face him.
"I'm sure your mother had her reasons," he said vaguely.
"What about our uncle? Where's he?" Oliver asked curiously.
"Pilford? He works for a university," Ely said.
"Can we meet him?" Oliver asked hopefully.
Ely opened and closed his mouth before answering. "Perhaps, one day." He began backing towards the door. "I'll leave you to get settled in."
Ely exited the room before they could ask any more questions.
May eyed the room and ran a finger across a silken throw on the end of the double bed. "I can't believe Mum used to live in this place and she never brought us here," she said, sounding hurt.
She s
at down on the edge of the bed as Oliver walked over to the dressing table. There was a selection of necklaces hanging on a knob by the mirror. He picked one up and let it run through his fingers, the small crystal on one end glistening as it caught the light.
May sighed. "Is this it then? Mum's really gone?"
Oliver frowned and turned back towards her. "Just until they find her."
"But where is she? What if something awful's happened to her?" May's eyes watered but she didn't cry. "That Hawking guy, her room - what if we told Ely? Maybe he'd be able to convince the police?"
Oliver picked at the gem hanging on the chain in his hand, avoiding her eye. "Why would he believe us? All the evidence is gone."
"But we could try," May implored.
Oliver dropped the necklace back onto the surface and looked up at her. "He'll just think we're making it up, like everyone else does."
She sighed in resignation and Oliver began rummaging through the drawers in the dressing table, curious to see more of his mother's possessions.
"We don't have to start school right away, do we? I can't bear facing people just yet," May said, sounding exasperated.
"At least you make friends easy. I think it took me about four years to make friends at our old school," he exaggerated.
May laughed. "That's because I actually attend school though," she said with a grin.
Oliver shut the final drawer, letting out a breath of frustration. "They're all empty."
"I guess Ely must've cleared out Mum's stuff to make room for ours," May said with a shrug.
"I'd like to see her things though," Oliver said, a mischievous glint entering his eye. "I wonder where he put them."
May raised her eyebrows at him. "Maybe he'll show us."
"Or we could just have a look around ourselves?" he suggested.
"I don't know if he'd be very happy with us snooping around," May said doubtfully.
Oliver walked purposefully towards the door. "Well if he has nothing to hide he won't mind us exploring, will he?"
3
Hidden in the Dark
There were two other doors in the corridor so Oliver tried the first one, just along from his mother's old room. He turned the handle but it was locked.
Oliver moved to the room opposite and, with a surge of excitement, found it open. He peered inside, finding a gloomy bedroom with heavy curtains drawn across the window and a thick, musty smell in the air.
Oliver ran his fingers across the wall, feeling the grooves of textured wallpaper beneath his touch. He discovered a light switch and flicked it, illuminating stacks of boxes piled on the floor and atop a bed.
"Should we go in?" May asked, peeking under his arm.
Oliver nodded and crept into the room. He brushed his fingers across a box on the bed and found a layer of dust deposited on it. A tingle ran up his spine as he got the distinct feeling that the room was somehow sacred, perhaps having remained untouched for years.
He pushed his fingers under the lip of the closed box and lifted it but the cardboard resisted, unmoving. He frowned and tugged at it harder but the box wouldn't open.
"That's weird," he muttered.
"What is?" May asked, hovering by the doorway.
"I can't open it." He tried the box beside it but was met with the same problem.
He lifted one onto the floor and knelt down beside it. Despite pulling hard, the cardboard didn't even tear.
"Leave it," May insisted through gritted teeth.
He turned to find her looking at him anxiously. "Aren't you curious?"
She nodded and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, but it doesn't look like Ely wants us going through this stuff. He's glued the boxes shut."
"If it were glue I could rip it," Oliver muttered thoughtfully.
"Olly, come on," May said with a slight edge to her voice.
He rolled his eyes and exited the room. "Do you reckon we might have another uncle or aunt we don't know about?"
"Maybe," May replied, sounding hopeful. "We should ask Ely."
They descended to the floor below and tiptoed down a corridor that ended in a single, large door. Oliver turned the handle and pushed it open, wincing as the hinges creaked. May clapped a hand to her mouth as she started giggling and Oliver grinned.
He peeped inside and found an enormous bedroom with a fourposter bed draped in grey material at one end. At the other, was a colossal desk made from dark wood engraved with symbols and patterns around the edges. It ran the length of an entire wall and had a hollow space beneath it where a four-wheeled stool was located. Piled atop the desk was a mountain of papers and books.
"This must be Ely's room. Maybe we shouldn't go in?" May said, but Oliver was already crossing the hardwood floor to investigate the desk.
A leather-bound book lay open at its centre portraying a diagram of a hand, facing palm up in the middle of the page. Arrows pointed to various lines on the image with strange words annotating it.
Oliver turned the page to find a more detailed diagram that displayed various fingers and different angles of the hand. A floorboard creaked behind him as May crept up to the desk.
"Do you reckon he's into palmistry?" Oliver asked.
"What? Like fortune telling?" May asked, looking doubtful.
"Yeah, look at these." He showed her the diagrams.
"My friend was into all that stuff. This doesn't look like that, though." May frowned and her forehead filled with tiny creases. They vanished as she picked up a piece of paper that caught her attention. "What do you think this is?"
Oliver cast his eyes over the drawing of a spiral that was interspersed with circles at random intervals.
"No idea," he said.
He glanced around the desk and spotted a pile of books that had been haphazardly placed on a wad of papers. They wobbled precariously as he lifted the top book and the one beneath it slid forward, shooting towards the floor.
Oliver winced as it hit the wood with a loud thud and they stood in tense silence, waiting to see if Ely had been alerted by the noise.
Oliver sighed with relief a moment later and stooped down, crawling under the desk to retrieve it. As he lifted the book a small scrap of paper was disturbed from beneath it. He reached for it, grasping the piece between two fingers.
"DINNER'S READY!" Ely's voice boomed up the stairs.
Oliver jerked upwards in shock, hitting his head on the underside of the desk with a loud crack.
"Argh," he groaned, pulling in a sharp breath of air between his teeth.
"Quick, get up," May said in a panic.
"Don't worry about me it's not like I smacked my head or anything," Oliver said, crawling out from underneath the desk.
He stood, placing the book back on the desk and stuffed the piece of paper into his back pocket before rubbing his head to ease the pain.
They snuck out of the room and Oliver shut the door quietly, feeling a rush of adrenalin pump through his veins. He turned to find May grinning at him and he shoved her playfully in the arm before leading the way back to the staircase, tiptoeing as they went.
As they descended, the sound of talking carried up to them from below. They reached the entrance hall and Oliver looked around, uncertain of where to go.
"Ely?" he called out but received no response.
They followed the voices through to a large kitchen where several people were gathered around a breakfast bar that was topped with black, grey-streaked marble.
The group looked young, perhaps in their early twenties; the men were dressed in smart suits and the women in party dresses. They laughed and chatted amongst themselves seemingly unaware of Oliver and May's presence.
"Um, excuse me?" May said but none of the strangers reacted.
The two of them lingered awkwardly in the doorway for a moment then Oliver stepped further into the room and the group turned to face them, looking surprised.
A woman broke apart from her companions, flicking a long strand of wh
ite-blonde hair out of her eyes. She glanced back towards the others with a meaningful glare and they fell silent, eyeing Oliver and May curiously.
"Can I help you?" Her voice was smooth and velvety and her smile revealed a set of brilliant, white teeth.
"We're looking for Ely," Oliver said, watching the strangers over her shoulder who were beginning to whisper amongst themselves.
"Oh, you must be his grandchildren. He's been telling us all about you. I believe he's in the dining room." She gestured to a doorway behind her.
"Thanks," Oliver said vaguely, retracting his gaze from the group.
They walked through the doorway and pushed past a trio of older men who were dressed in business suits. There were others gathered around a long dining table, piled high with food. The lighting was dim but not dark enough to hide the strange looks they received as they crossed the room.
Ely was sat on a red, chintzy sofa with a plate of food on his lap. He spotted them just before they sat down next to him.
"You must be hungry. Grab a plate and have whatever you want. The broccoli quiche is delicious," he said, gesturing to the buffet.
Oliver's stomach rumbled but he was too curious to eat just yet. "Ely, who are all these people?" he asked in a low voice.
Ely smiled. "They're just some friends and acquaintances." He stuffed a cocktail sausage into his mouth with a shrug. "Lots of people come visiting here. Grab a plate." He gestured to the food again.
Oliver frowned and gazed around at the party. He stood and heard May follow him as he approached the table, picked up a plate and filled it. As he returned to his seat a thought occurred to him.
"Are any of these people related to us?" he asked his grandfather curiously.
Ely shook his head and Oliver felt dejected.
"Will we get a chance to meet any other family?" May asked him eagerly as she swallowed a mouthful.
"Um, probably not. No," Ely said in a high pitched voice then cleared his throat and continued to eat.
"Why not?" Oliver asked in frustration.
"Well, my children live quite far away, you see? I rarely get to see them myself." He sipped at a glass of red wine as he spoke, avoiding eye contact with them.
Creeping Shadow (The Rise of Isaac, Book One) Page 3
