by Mark Wright
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Copyright Page
Titles in Teen Reads
CHAPTER 1
“I wish summer could last forever,” sighed Tamsin happily.
“I know what you mean,” said Chase.
The two girls lay back on a grass verge, eyes closed. The sun was hot on their faces. Bees droned lazily, merging with the trickle of a nearby stream, making the two friends sleepy. This was the perfect summer holiday.
“Oi, you two! I’m bored!”
Tamsin and Chase gasped as cold water splashed over them. “Paul!” they shouted at once, sitting bolt upright.
Paul stood a few feet away in the stream, knee deep in water. He grinned slyly as he kicked up more water towards the girls. “You two are so boring!”
There were times when Tamsin could throttle her little brother. With his scruffy blonde hair and cheeky grin, he got away with murder with their parents.
“We’ve got all this countryside to explore and you two want to sleep?” Paul shouted, kicking up another spray of water.
Tamsin and Chase glanced at each other. They were such good friends, no words were needed.
“Right, you little git,” said Chase, scrambling to her feet. “You asked for it!”
Tamsin jumped after Chase and sprinted towards her brother. Paul’s eyes widened as they splashed through the stream towards him. He stumbled backwards, trying to get away, but his foot caught on a rock. Tamsin and Chase could only laugh as Paul’s arms windmilled round wildly. His mouth opened in a wide ‘O’ of surprise, but it was too late.
He splashed down spluttering into the stream. Tamsin and Chase laughed and slapped their hands together in a high-five.
*
“That wasn’t fair,” complained Paul as he squelched along the path running along the edge of a field. All around were green fields and hedgerows, rising and falling ahead of them into the distance.
Tamsin and Chase followed behind, trying not to laugh. “Serves you right,” said Tamsin. “Don’t worry, you’ll dry off before we get back to the cottage.”
“You hope,” added Chase. Paul looked back, glaring, then grinned and flicked water off his fingers at her.
“Let’s go to the village, I’ve got money for ice cream,” said Tamsin.
The three teenagers walked on in friendly silence, enjoying the quiet of the countryside. The summer holidays had been like this for over two weeks since they’d arrived in the village of Dewbank. Tamsin and Paul’s parents had rented a cottage in the area for the whole of the summer holidays. Chase was best friends with Tamsin at school, and was chuffed to bits when her parents had invited her to spend the holidays with them.
So far it had been blazing sunshine; long days running along endless country paths; trips out with mum and dad; splashing through streams and letting the cares of the school year slip away. They hoped it would last forever.
Tamsin’s promise of ice cream had lifted Paul’s spirits and he was almost dry when they reached the end of the lane leading onto the village green.
Dewbank was one of those perfect little villages that people couldn’t help falling in love with. There was a village green with a duckpond, a pub and a few shops, including a village store that sold the best ice cream they’d ever tasted.
Outside the shop, Paul licked greedily at a cone of mint-chocolate, while his sister and Chase talked about boys or something. He rolled his eyes and looked across the village green. Everything seemed to glow in the afternoon sunshine – apart from the bell tower.
The bell tower stood at the far end of the green. It was an ugly, dark stone needle that looked out of place in the rest of the village. It always looked to be hidden in cold shadow, even when the sun was shining. He didn’t know why it was called a bell tower, he’d never heard a bell ring all the time they’d been there.
Paul licked a trickle of melting green ice cream from the cone. He couldn’t take his eyes off the stone tower. There was something about it… something… he shivered, a wave of cold passing through him. His eyes scanned the height of the tower. The hands on the clock at the top were still, but… wait… was that somebody moving in the tiny slit of a window below the clock?
He shivered again, crying out as something brushed against his shoulder… “Argh!” He jumped, dropping the ice cream in shock. It splatted on the ground.
“I’m terribly sorry,” said Mr Brandy. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Paul’s heart hammered in his chest, but he tried to cover his fright when Tamsin and Chase walked over. “Don’t worry Mr B,” said Tamsin. “He’s a wuss.”
“I am not!” said Paul, face reddening. “The bell tower. I thought I saw somebody moving in the window.”
Tamsin and Chase both laughed, but Mr Brandy whipped round to look at Paul seriously through his glasses. “The bell tower? Are you sure?”
“Don’t know,” mumbled Paul. He was embarrassed now.
Mr Brandy slid his hands into the pockets of his tweed trousers and smiled. “Why don’t you come over to the shop and tell me about it?”
CHAPTER 2
Mr Brandy’s shop had rapidly become the children’s favourite place to visit in Dewbank. A light, airy bookshop, a million miles away from the usual musty, dusty village bookshops they were used to. Always at his desk in the middle of the shop was Mr Brandy, with his tweed trousers and waistcoat, almost hidden behind the widescreen, state-of-the-art computer that sat on the desk.
“Oh sorry,” said Mr Brandy as Tamsin, Chase and Paul entered the shop behind him, “I’ll just turn that off.” He silenced the music blaring from the computer, looking slightly embarrassed. “Just listening to the new Kasabian album.”
Tamsin smiled. Mr Brandy looked like a geeky English gent, but he had an air of cool about him – he even had better taste in music than any of them.
“The latest in that vampire series you like came in this morning, Chase,” said Mr Brandy as Chase started scanning the shelves packed with books. He always seemed to have some new recommendation for them. “Now Paul, you seem to have had a shock.”
“It’s that creepy bell tower. There’s summat up there,” said Paul.
“I rather doubt that,” replied Mr Brandy. “It’s been closed up for decades. Longer, even.”
“But I saw somebody,” insisted Paul.
“You were seeing things,” said Chase, drifting over from the shelves with a book in her hand.
“Wasn’t,” mumbled Paul.
“Why is the tower boarded up?” asked Tamsin.
“There lies a tale,” said Mr Brandy. Tamsin thought he looked a bit uncomfortable.
“We’re not going anywhere,” said Chase, sitting down next to Paul.
Mr Brandy opened his mouth, looking doubtful but, seeing three expectant faces waiting for a story, he didn’t have much choice.
“Oh, very well,” he said, running a hand through his wavy hair and removing his glasses.
Tamsin sat on the desk and let her legs swing as Mr Brandy began. “Dewbank has a long and bloody history,” he said, cleaning his glasses with the handkerchief he pulled from a pocket. “In the 1600s it was a small but thriving community of farmers, but there was something darker at its heart. Witchcraft.”
Mr Brandy paused, looking at his audience – Paul peered up at him with wide eyes. He replaced his glasses and continued. “In this period of history, many were persecuted for being witches – both men and women. Anybody who had a talent for healing, for using herbs, even perhaps for delivering a farmer’s pig.”
Chase gi
ggled. “A pig?”
“It’s no laughing matter. Many innocents were sent to be hanged, many at the hands of Matthew Hopkins, the so-called Witchfinder General.”
“He sounds great,” said Paul – and meant it.
“Were all of them innocent?” asked Tamsin. “Were any of these people really witches?” Tamsin had an image of a haggard old woman in a pointy hat, cackling as she rose into the air on a broomstick.
Mr Brandy shrugged. “That’s not for me to say.”
“What about the bell tower?” asked Paul impatiently.
“I’m coming to it. The local history of the area talks of an incident in 1639. The Witchfinder General’s men had heard of a supposed witch living in the woods who had delivered a baby for a local woman. It was said the baby had a tail like the devil. Nonsense, of course. Hopkins and his men pursued this witch – she was called Aldetha Dewbank – to the village.”
“What happened?” asked Chase. Tamsin shivered. The shop had grown suddenly cold.
“This is where the story becomes a little sinister,” said Mr Brandy, fixing them with a piercing stare. “The usual fate for anybody accused of witchcraft was hanging. Aldetha fled to the village and made her way to the top of the bell tower, Hopkins right behind her.”
He paused, then went on, “If the story is to be believed, Aldetha and Hopkins faced each other at the very top of the bell tower. She refused to be taken alive. Eyewitnesses said they could see fire blast from the witch’s fingers into the night sky, bringing a curse down on the village. The divide between this world and the spirit world, the world of demons and witches, would be weakened forever. Before she could be taken by the Witchfinder, she jumped to her death from the top of the bell tower, bursting into flames and vanishing before her body hit the ground.”
“That’s brilliant!” said Paul.
“No, it’s horrid,” his sister replied. “A horrible story.”
“History can be brutal,” said Mr Brandy, shrugging. “Matthew Hopkins, the Witchfinder General, left the area never to return. It’s said that if the bell ever rings in the tower, a spirit from the other side is trying to break through the divide between worlds. Of course, the bell was taken out years ago. Just in case. The clock was added years later, but that, too, doesn’t work.”
“Why not just knock the tower down?” asked Chase, producing some money to pay for the book she’d chosen.
Mr Brandy sat at his desk and rang the money up on the till. “I think it’s fair to say that the village of Dewbank relies on a certain amount of tourist trade from the story. It’s why the village was later renamed Dewbank.” He handed Chase her change. “Keeping the bell tower brings people to the village. And besides,” he said, his tale finished, “it’s only a story.”
“Still reckon I saw something up there,” said Paul as they left the shop. The three friends walked slowly across the village green, glancing towards the bell tower.
“You heard Mr B,” said Tamsin. “It’s just a story.”
“Creepy one, though,” said Chase.
Paul and Chase walked away across the green, heading towards the cottage and dinner with Tamsin and Paul’s parents.
Tamsin hung back, looking at the ugly, black tower. It’s just a story… An idea formed in her head and she smiled. “Hey, wait for me!” she shouted and ran after Paul and Chase.
As the three friends made their way across the village, they didn’t see Mr Brandy peering at them from the window of his shop, a serious frown on his face.
CHAPTER 3
“I just can’t stand a mystery,” said Tamsin when she’d outlined her plan to the others after breakfast. They’d arranged to spend the morning in Dewbank before meeting up with their parents for lunch. Tamsin outlined her plan as they wandered along the path towards the village.
“We can’t just break into a boarded-up bell tower,” Chase pointed out. She’d been looking forward to a morning in the sunshine reading her new book. Now her best friend was planning to turn them into criminals.
“Why not?” asked Tamsin.
“Because it’s illegal you dummy!” shouted Chase.
“Apart from that? Don’t you want to find out if there is anybody up there?”
“No,” said Paul, convinced his sister had lost the plot.
Tamsin stepped forwards a few paces and turned to face the others, arms folded.
“I know that look,” said Paul. His sister looked at them with a determined gleam in her eyes. “Please, anything but the look.”
Tamsin threw down her challenge with a raised eyebrow. “Not scared, are you?”
“Don’t try it, Tam,” said Chase. “It won’t work.”
“Wanna bet on that?” replied Tamsin with a cheeky grin. “Paul? Scared of the ghosties? Need your big sis to protect you?”
Paul glared. “I am not scared of ghosts.”
“Well,” said Tamsin, “why don’t you go running back to mum and dad? They can babysit you all day. And you can just hide out somewhere reading your book.” Tamsin turned on her heel and strode away down the path. “I’m off to find some ghosts!”
Chase and Paul looked down the path after Tamsin, then looked at each other. With a sigh, they started running after her. “Wait!”
Chase and Paul didn’t see the grin of satisfaction on Tamsin’s face.
*
“Still think this is a terrible idea,” said Chase as they stood at the base of the bell tower, looking up. It loomed above them, dark and forbidding, as if daring them to enter.
“It’ll be fine,” Tamsin tried to reassure her friend, but now they were there, she wasn’t so sure. It was cold, the sun never seeming to penetrate this corner of Dewbank. Over by the shops, a few people milled around, but it was still early enough for them not to be noticed.
“Coast’s clear,” said Paul, peering around the side of the tower to make sure nobody was coming. Since Tamsin had thrown down her challenge, he was trying to show he wasn’t terrified. He had seen somebody up in the tower, he was sure of it.
The door to the tower was covered with wooden planks nailed into place. Tamsin grabbed the edge of one and pulled. It was loose and started to come away. “These must have been here for years,” Tamsin said. “The nails are rusty.”
With a squeal of metal on wood, the first plank came away. The three friends paused, waiting to see if anybody had heard, but the village looked as sleepy as it always did.
“This is too easy,” said Chase, grabbing the next plank with Tamsin and pulling. It, too, came away easily.
Soon they had removed four planks, revealing a heavy, wooden door. It might have been the original, its surface covered with moss, some of the heavy timber having rotted away.
Tamsin reached a hand out and placed it against the door, looking at Paul and Chase. If it was locked, their adventure was going to be over pretty soon. “Shall I?” she asked.
Chase nodded and Paul swallowed nervously. “Go on then,” he said.
Tamsin pushed. With a creak, the door opened.
Darkness lay beyond.
Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a good idea, but Tamsin wasn’t about to turn back now and lose face in front of her brother and Chase.
Without looking at either of them, she stepped forwards into the rectangle of black.
CHAPTER 4
Once through the door, dim, grey light spilled down from above onto the square entrance hall. The same black stone as outside rose up around her, but it all seemed perfectly normal. Stone steps rose up in front of her. Tamsin looked up, seeing that the steps made their way up all round the stone walls – they must take you all the way up to the bell tower itself.
“It stinks,” said Paul, emerging through the door.
“He’s not wrong,” said Chase appearing behind him, wrinkling her nose against the smell of damp and decay in the air.
Tamsin had moved further into the hallway. “Bet we’re the first ones to set foot in here in years.”
; “Can we go now?” asked Paul. “There’s nobody here.”
“We need to look everywhere,” said Chase, peering up the steps. “You saw your ghost at the top of the tower, remember.”
Paul’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Don’t know what your problem is,” said Tamsin, putting a foot on the first step. “It’s just a normal building. Come on, bet there’s a great view of the village from the top.” She started to climb, Chase close behind her, any fear she’d previously felt gone.
Paul sighed and reluctantly started up the stairs after them.
Their feet scraped on the rough, stone steps as they spiralled up and around the inside of the bell tower. They climbed higher and higher, shafts of light cutting through the murk from the narrow windows cut into the stonework.
Soon they turned one final corner on the steps. The staircase opened out as they climbed the final few feet and they found themselves stepping out into the bell tower itself.
“See,” said Chase, looking around. “Nobody here.”
Paul didn’t look convinced. “Ghosts can hide.”
Tamsin pointed upwards. “No bell.” Above them, where the roof of the tower came together in a point, a wooden beam spanned from one wall to the other. Where the bell should have been lashed to the beam was an empty space. “Mr B was right.”
“If the bell rings, a spirit is coming through from the other side,” said Tamsin, her voice echoing now they were this high up. She looked at Paul and waved her fingers at him. “Wooooooooo…” she teased in a ghostly voice.
“Stop it,” he said. “That isn’t funny.” He looked at his sister pleadingly. “Can we go now? I want an ice cream.”
“Not yet, I want to look at the village.”
Tamsin and Chase moved over to the thin window, trying not to bump heads as they both peered out. “It really is a pretty village,” said Tamsin, looking down on Dewbank laid out below them. The sun glinted across the duckpond.
“It seems higher than you’d think,” said Chase. “Look, there’s Mr Brandy.” They could see the tiny figure of the bookshop owner walking the distance from the village shop to his own premises.
