by Amy Cross
When I reach the door, I lean a little closer, holding my breath so I can listen properly.
Silence.
Nothing.
And then a faint creak from the floorboards on the other side of the door.
I want to -
Suddenly the door swings open and Mummy steps out in her nightgown, almost bumping into me as she rubs her eyes.
“Jesus!” she blurts out, taking a step back as she sees me. “Christ, Cally, what are you doing there?”
“I heard something,” I tell her, suddenly feeling as if I'm about to cry. I don't want her to be mad at me.
“No, you didn't,” she replies, sounding tired as she reaches down, takes my hand and gently leads me back along the landing. “You really didn't, sweetheart. Sometimes old houses just creak a bit at night, that's all. It's them settling as the temperature changes.”
Looking back at the open door to their room, I realize that Daddy is still in there.
“You mustn't go creeping around at night,” Mummy continues as we reach the door to my room. “You have to stay in bed.”
“Why aren't you staying in bed?” I ask, looking up at her.
“Me?” She pauses, as if she's still tired. “I just wasn't sleeping very well. I had a bad dream, so I thought I'd get up and have a drink of water.” She stares at me for a moment. “Do you want to come downstairs with me and get a drink too?”
I nod.
“Just this once,” she adds, taking my hand and leading me down the stairs. “We're not going to make a habit of this, though.” She mutters something else under her breath, but I don't quite hear it.
“Shouldn't we get Daddy to come with us?”
“Daddy's fast asleep.”
“But he's in there with that thing!”
“With what thing?” As we head into the kitchen, she sighs. “Cally, you're not still going on about that, are you? I told you, there's nothing else in the house. We had it checked before we moved in, there isn't even so much as a mouse or an ant's nest or -”
“We have to go and get him,” I hiss, trying to pull her back to the hallway. “It might hurt him!”
“Cally, there's no -”
“Mummy, we have to! I don't think it likes us!”
“Cally, stop. This is nonsense.”
“Please,” I add, with tears in my eyes, “we can't leave him in there!”
“Cally -”
“Mummy, please!”
“Cally!” she shouts suddenly, with a brief, angry look that quickly passes. “For God's sake, enough is enough!” Crouching in front of me, she puts her hands on my shoulders and stares at me. “You can not keep acting like this, okay? There is nothing in this house to be scared of, not a single thing, and do you know why? Because Mummy and Daddy would never have brought you to live in a house where there was anything that could hurt one of us. You know that, don't you?”
“It's in there with Daddy,” I reply.
Sighing, she shakes her head.
“What was your bad dream about?” I ask.
“My dream?” She pauses. “That doesn't matter.”
“Was it about something in the house? Maybe it got into your dream and -”
“That's enough,” she says firmly, standing up and heading to the sink. “Nothing got into my dream and nothing's in the house. Now, do you want water or milk?”
“I want another house.”
“This is going to get really tiring, you know,” she continues as she fills a glass of water and takes a sip. Turning, she sighs again. “Okay, let's make a deal. This is the first night here, so we can write off a little silliness, but starting right now I need you to focus on all the good things about living here. There are no monsters or ghosts, it's a lovely house and we're going to start painting and decorating tomorrow, so it'll start to look so much nicer. We can paint your room first, if you like. Daddy bought some really nice paint that'll make it seem much less scary. Okay?”
“Paint won't make it go away,” I tell her.
“It'll make you feel happier,” she replies, finishing the glass of water before coming over and taking my hand again, and then leading me out of the kitchen. “In a few days' time, you'll see how silly it was to believe that there was anything here.” As we head up the stairs, I realize that she's going to make me go back to bed. “I was scared of the dark when I was your age too,” she adds. “It's natural in a way, but you mustn't let it take over. Sometimes, Cally, you just have to be a little bit brave.”
“I am brave.”
“I know you are, sweetie. And do you want to know a trick? Even if you're not feeling brave at a particular time, you can just fake it. Just pretend to be brave, and eventually it'll come true.” Leading me into my room, she lets go of my hand and grabs my duvet, fluffing it up and straightening it before patting the bed so that I'll climb back on. “You need to get some sleep now, so that you're full of energy in the morning when we start decorating. I need to sleep too, so let's focus on that, okay?”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Please?”
Coming back over to me, she takes my hand and makes me go to the bed, and then she lifts me on.
“You're a very lucky little girl,” she says, forcing a smile. “You have your own bedroom now, and we're going to make it the best bedroom ever. I bet all your friends would be so jealous if they could see it.”
“I don't have any friends here,” I point out.
“You'll make new ones at school,” she replies, pulling the duvet over me before heading to the door. “Do you want this left open or not?”
“I think its name might be Tenderling,” I tell her.
She turns to me.
“The word above the door,” I continue. “I think... I think that's its name, and maybe this is its room, and that's why it's mad at me. Or maybe this is its house, which is why it's mad at all of us.”
“You've got quite an imagination,” she replies, glancing up at the spot above the door before grabbing the handle, ready to swing it shut. “This is your room, Cally, not anyone or anything else's. I'm going to close the door so you don't start thinking there's anything out on the landing again, and this time I want you to be really brave and big, and sleep the whole night through. If you hear a noise, remember that it's just the house settling. Now I'm serious, get to sleep.”
“But -”
Before I can finish, she shuts the door, and I hear her heading along to the other bedroom. A moment later I hear her saying something to Daddy, and I suppose they're probably talking about how I'm being silly.
“It's name is Tenderling,” I whisper, with tears in my eyes, “and it is mad at us.”
Chapter Three
“No,” Mummy says, sounding exhausted as she sits at the kitchen table and talks to Grandma on the phone, “I just didn't get a very good night, that's all.” She rubs the back of her neck, which she's been doing a lot since she got up this morning, and her fingers seem to be feeling one particular spot.
Sitting opposite Mummy, I can hear Grandma's voice on the phone, but I can't make out what she's saying.
“I'll be fine,” Mummy continues, “it's just all the stress of the move.” She glances at me and smiles, but I can tell she's only smiling to make me feel better. “Mum, I have to go. Cally and I have got a lot to get done while David's out at the supermarket.” She pauses. “Okay. Speak soon. Bye!”
Setting the phone down, she rubs her eyes, and it's clear that she wants to go back to bed.
“You look tired,” I tell her.
“Well then maybe someone shouldn't have been caught wandering around in the night,” she replies, getting to her feet and tousling my hair as she walks past. “Finish your breakfast, sweetie, and then we'll get to work.”
A few minutes later, once I've eaten all my grapefruit, I head out of the kitchen and go to find Mummy. She's not in the living room or the new office, and the house seems strangel
y quiet. When I stop to listen, I realize I can't hear anyone else at all. Telling myself to be brave, I head upstairs and finally I hear a noise coming from the bathroom. When I get to the door, I see that Mummy's rubbing the back of her neck again, while twisting around in an attempt to see the same spot in the mirror above the sink.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a moment.
“Fine, sweetie,” she replies, quickly stopping and coming over to me. “Totally fine. Let's get ready to clear the garden, shall we?”
She leads me back downstairs, but she's already started rubbing the back of her neck again. It's like she's trying to feel something under her skin.
***
“There's an old man coming to the gate,” I tell Mummy as I spot a figure shuffling toward us. “Is he going to help us with the garden?”
Setting the wheelbarrow down, she turns and shields her eyes from the sun as she watches the old man for a moment.
“No, sweetie,” she says finally, taking her gardening gloves off, “I guess it's just one of the new neighbors, coming from that house over there. Come on, let's go and say hello. I bet he's really nice!” As she heads over to him, she rubs the back of her neck again. She's been doing it all morning, as if she's obsessed with it, but I haven't dared to ask her about it yet. She'd just tell me it's nothing, and that she's fine, and that I'm being silly.
“Morning,” the old man says as Mummy reaches him, and I hurry over to join them.
“Julie,” Mummy replies, shaking his hand. “Julie Taylor. And this is my daughter Cally.”
“That's a lovely name,” he says with a smile, reaching down and shaking my hand. “Is it short for something?”
“No,” I tell him cautiously. “Just Cally. Cally Elizabeth Taylor.”
“Elizabeth Taylor?” He laughs, causing even more wrinkles to appear on his face. “Well, that's absolutely one of my favorite film stars in the whole world.”
“We were going to come and introduce ourselves to the neighbors later,” Mummy tells him, “after my husband gets back from the shops.”
“And I beat you to it,” the old man replies, “coming and snooping like this. Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb.”
“Nonsense,” Mummy says, opening the gate and pulling it open. She's touching the back of her neck again, as if she can't stop. “Please, won't you come in for a cup of tea?”
***
“Yeah, we read about all of that,” Mummy says a little while later, as she and Joseph sit in the kitchen. I'm in the living room, looking for some of my toys in the packing cases, but I can hear the conversation from here. “It sounded horrible.”
“It was a tough time for the whole town,” Joseph replies, sounding very serious. “Heartbreaking, really.”
“It's just horrible to think that they might never find her,” Mummy adds. “I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for a family to lose a child like that, especially after everything else that happened.”
Stopping, I look over at the empty doorway. I don't know exactly what Mummy and Joseph are talking about, but I think it's something to do with the people who lived in this house before us. Figuring that I can find my Lego later, I head over to the door and stop before they can see me, hoping to listen to what they're saying. I know Mummy would probably just change the subject if she knew I could hear them.
“It's good to see the house being used again,” Joseph tells her. “It's been years since all of that, and... Well, I know it's a terrible thing to say, but I think it's about time that everyone moved on. I think most people finally accepted that they weren't going to find little Mary, and that even if they did...”
His voice trails off for a moment.
“I'm sorry,” he adds. “I didn't mean to come over here and immediately start talking about all the bad things. I guess it's just habit, no-one around here has talked about much else since it happened.”
“We're going to start redecorating today,” Mummy tells him, sounding a little happier. “We've got all the paint and equipment, and we're going to really brighten the place up. I think that's what it needs, really. We thought about doing it before we moved in but, well, it was cheaper this way. Every penny helps, right?”
“It's a beautiful house,” he replies. “There should be a family here, and children. It's the right thing. I never liked seeing it standing empty for so long.”
Stepping out into the hallway, I head cautiously and quietly to the kitchen door. I stop when I see Mummy's elbow, and I realize that she's rubbing the back of her neck again.
“Hang on,” she says, suddenly leaning back until she sees me. She smiles. “I thought so! We're being spied on. Come here, Cally.”
“I was just looking for my Lego,” I tell her as I head through to join them. “I'm worried we didn't bring it all.”
“We brought every brick,” she replies, heading over to the fridge and pouring me a glass of juice. “We'll unpack properly as soon as we've finished painting, and then we'll do a full Lego inventory, okay?”
“What happened to the people who used to live here?” I ask, turning to Joseph.
“Oh, they -” He pauses, as he looks a little worried. “They moved away.”
“Why?”
“To live somewhere else,” he replies, glancing at Mummy as if he's worried about what to say.
“They went to live in another house,” she says, setting the juice on the table in front of me. “People do that sometimes. Like how we moved here.”
“But why?” I ask, staring at Joseph. “Did something happen?”
“No,” he replies. “They just moved, that's all.”
I stare at him for a moment. “You're lying.”
“Cally!” Mummy says, sounding shocked. “Don't be so rude!”
“Sorry,” I reply, taking a step back.
“It's okay,” Joseph continues. “It looks like you have a perceptive one here.”
“Was it because of Tenderling?” I ask.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to catch in his throat. “Where...” He pauses, before clearing his throat. “Well, Cally Elizabeth Taylor, where did you hear that word?”
“I read it,” I tell him. “Above my bedroom door.”
He looks over at Mummy.
“It's nothing,” she says, with a smile that I don't think is quite how she's really feeling. “You know what children can be like. They latch onto the smallest things, and their imaginations can grow completely out of control.”
“Absolutely,” he replies, but his smile doesn't seem any more genuine. “It can be... Well, it can be difficult moving into a new house and a new area.”
“But we're going to repaint the whole place,” Mummy continues, and this time her smile seems normal. “Cally's helping me today, and then tomorrow after she starts school I'm going to really get started on the painting. This time in a week, you won't even recognize the place.”
“Huh,” Joseph replies, keeping an eye on me, as if he's worried about something. “Well, that would certainly be a good start.”
***
That night, after I've been put to bed, I listen to the sounds of the house for hours. Although I hear lots of creaks, I'm not sure that I hear anything suspicious, and I don't get the feeling that there's anything out there on the landing. In fact, I finally manage to fall asleep, as if nothing's wrong at all. I still think there's something in the house, but for some reason it doesn't seem to be watching us in the same way anymore.
Chapter Four
They're talking about me.
Sitting by myself in the playground, I open my packed lunch and find the food that Mummy prepared for me: a sandwich, an apple, a carton of juice and some crisps. Still, I can tell the three girls by the swings are whispering about me, and I know they'll be looking at me if I glance up.
“Hey,” a voice says suddenly.
Turning, I see that one of the girls has come closer, while the other two giggle and watch.
“Hey,�
�� I reply cautiously.
“Is it true that you live in the house where that stuff happened?” she asks.
I stare at her, not really sure how to respond.
“That's what people are saying,” she adds. “That you live in that house.”
“I don't know,” I reply, looking back down at my food.
“The one on the corner on the edge of town,” she continues. “The one slightly on its own hill, with lots of old trees around it. Is that your house?”
“Maybe.”
“So you do live in the house where that stuff happened.” She pauses. “What's in your sandwich?”
Pulling the cellophane away, I lift the bread. “Egg.”
“Do you like egg?”
I nod. “Mummy knows it's my favorite?”
“Mummy?” She giggles. “So you live in the creepy house?”
Turning to her, I can see that the other girls are watching us intently.
“I'm Chloe,” the nearest girl says suddenly.
“I'm Cally,” I tell her.
“Yeah, so is it true? You live in that house?”
“It's just a house.”
“Yeah, but it's where those people died and, like, their kid went missing.”
“What people?”
“Don't you know?”
I shake my head.
She turns to the other girls and calls out to them: “She doesn't know about the house where she lives!”
“God, how dumb is she?” one of the others says with a grin.
“I guess I can tell you, then,” Chloe continues, turning back to me. “You live in the house where Mary Madison disappeared and her parents died.”
“No I don't,” I tell her. Nearby, one of the dinner-ladies glances at us before turning back to talk to her friend.
“You do too,” Chloe says. “My Dad was talking about it yesterday, how people've moved in. Mary Madison's parents were found dead in the most horrible way ever, and Mary was gone. That was a few years ago now, but still...” She pauses. “It's creepy.”
