Deadly Games (11 page)

“Listen.” Sid's voice was slow, calm and loving. “I mean what I say. I can look after you. Really look after you – like any father would.”

But May and Leslie shook their heads again, gazing up at him blankly, as if he weren't getting through.

“I love you,” said Sid. “I'll always love you.”

They've spent so much time resisting love that they can't recognise the genuine article, thought Jenny. Then she realised that, once again, she and her twin would have to focus their wills, this time much harder than before. But was David capable of anything but trying to keep himself alive? Somehow, she would have to inspire him.

“David,
we've
got to reach May and Leslie too. We've got to focus.”

He nodded, still hanging on, screwing up his face in grim determination.

At first, it was like trying to penetrate an iceberg. But the more the twins concentrated, the more they felt they were beginning to get behind the cold walls of hatred and yearning.

Suddenly the familiar pale glow began again,
surrounding May and Leslie, radiating across the stagnant water and up the clammy walls of the well.

“We're winning,” said David between clenched teeth.

The pale light turned a dazzling sunshine yellow and the twins were surrounded by images of the old repair yard in summer. The place was barely recognisable, with most of the machinery buried in bushy undergrowth, a small, hummocky hill running over the engine shed and the upper branches of the tree that grew out of the signal box in bloom.

Wild flowers were everywhere and sheep grazed on meadow grass that ran beside a small stream. A small whitewashed stone cottage was nearby and on a bench outside sat Sid, reading a newspaper, carpet slippers on his feet.

May and Leslie were playing in the stream, the silver droplets of water gleaming on their tanned skin. They were no longer ghosts but real healthy children, dashing under a golden sun towards Sid, who had put his paper down and was waving a greeting. Then Gumbo scampered out of the house and rolled on its back in the grassy warmth.

Sid picked up a towel from the back of the seat and began to dry May's and Leslie's hair, both at the same time. As he did so, the images grew faint and the yellow light of high summer began to
draw down into the pale light of the well. Then it vanished altogether.

“There,” said David, knowing that focusing his will, reaching them and seeing their wild, romantic hopes, had cost him the last ounce of his strength. “Now you will believe us.” He closed his eyes against the pain of it all. It would be such a relief to slip under the water, which seemed much less cold now. All he wanted to do was to sleep. He
had
to sleep.

“David!” yelled Jenny. “Hang on!”

But he couldn't. David's hands slipped off the ladder and he disappeared slowly under the surface.

The dark water took him and grew warmer, more comforting, as he sank deeper. He felt relaxed, at peace, and fully accepted that this was going to be the end. He would miss Jenny – but how deeply he wanted to sleep! The pain had gone and with it all his suffering.

Then David felt strong hands under his arms and realised instinctively that this time there was no need to struggle. In seconds he broke the surface and to his amazement began to rise up the well shaft seemingly unaided. Darting a backward glance, David saw the cat floating up behind him, her body completely still, utterly trusting. He passed Sid on the ladder with Gumbo peering
from his pocket, and jenny, her eyes wide with incredulous relief

Reaching the top of the well, David found himself set gently on the ground. Behind him he heard a faint mewing sound and saw the mother cat streak off into the undergrowth.

Now freezing cold, with his circulation only just returning, David staggered back to the well and began to help Jenny and then Sid scramble over the top of the ladder. As he did so, David saw May and Leslie standing on the island. He had never seen them so clearly before. They were gazing up at him, holding hands, and for the first time they looked innocent and helpless: Then they faded away into nothing.

Sid had lit another fire and its warm glow spread inside the twins, giving them an overwhelming sense of relief and well-being.

“They understand now,” said Jenny. “We broke down all the barriers they'd put up – I'm sure of that. Now they know how much you love them.”

Sid nodded, while Gumbo stretched itself out in front of the flames, basking in the comfort of the fire, just as it had done in the sunshine of May's and Leslie's fantasy vision of summer.

“There's something about that rat's eyes,” muttered Sid. “Always thought they were familiar.”

“Familiar?” echoed Jenny.

The twins gazed into Gumbo's eyes.

“Mrs Garland,” Jenny exclaimed. “They're Mrs Garland's eyes.”

The rat moved a little closer to the flames and they could smell the peppermint on its breath.

Sid gave Gumbo an affectionate glance. “She'll watch over the kids with me. I'll be setting up house here now.”

“We must go home,” said David, getting up from the fire reluctantly and stretching. “We'll have to think up something to tell our parents. They won't believe any of this.”

Jenny rose regretfully to her feet, knowing they wouldn't be able to visit Sid in his new home, otherwise the jealousy might start up all over again. “What about your promise?” she demanded.

“Promise?” He looked up at her vaguely.

“You said you'd go back to the hospital and get well again.”

Sid spread his hands out to the blaze. “Things have changed,” he said. “Got to look after myself better now. Got responsibilities, like.”

“Yes,” Jenny replied. “You're right about that.”

“Will you let me off?”

“Looks as if I'll have to,” she said.

The twins shook hands with Sid and the old
man seemed genuinely sorry to see them go. “Best of luck then,” he said.

“You're going to need that,” replied David. “They're a bit of a handful, those two.”

“Yeah, but I reckon I can sort them out now.”

David and Jenny gazed back at the fire to see May and Leslie close by, holding out their hands to the warmth. Gumbo was sitting between them.

Anthony Masters was renowned as an adult novelist, short story writer and biographer, but was best known for his fiction for young people.
Many of his novels carry deep insights into social problems, which he experienced over four decades by helping the socially excluded. He ran soup kitchens for drug addicts and campaigned for the civic rights of gypsies and other ethnic minorities. Masters is also known for his eclectic range of non-fiction titles, ranging from the biographies of such diverse personalities as the British secret service chief immortalized by Ian Fleming in his James Bond books
(The Man Who Was M: the Life of Maxwell Knight)
.
His children's fiction included teenage novels and the ground breaking Weird World series of young adult horror, published by Bloomsbury. He also worked with children both in schools and at art festivals. Anthony Masters died in 2003.

Discover books by Anthony Masters published by Bloomsbury Reader at
ww.bloomsbury.com/AnthonyMasters

A Pocketful of Rye
Confessional
Finding Joe
Hidden Gods
Murder Is a Long Time Coming
The Men
The Seahorse

Children and Young Adult Books
Cries of Terror
Dead Man at the Door
Deadly Games
Ghost Blades
Ghost Stories to Tell in the Dark
Horror Stories to Tell in the Dark
I Want Him Dead
Nightmare in New York
Scary Tales to Tell in the Dark
Shellshock
Vampire Stories to Tell in the Dark
Werewolf Stories to tell in the Dark

For copyright reasons, any images not belonging to the original author have been
removed from this book. The text has not been changed, and may still contain
references to missing images.

This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Reader

Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,
London WC1B 3DP

First published in Great Britain in 1996 by Orchard Books

Copyright © 1996 Anthony Masters

All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise
make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
(including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying,
printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the
publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication
may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

The moral right of the author is asserted.

eISBN: 9781448213139

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