Mystery at Silver Spires (4 page)

“What, definitely?” asked Nicole. “I mean couldn't it have fallen out?”

“Well it
could
have done, but then she found that all the pictures in her bedroom were just a little bit tilted, and the book she was reading wasn't in its usual place.”

“I still think it could all have been a coincidence,” said Nicole. And I had to admit that was what I was thinking too.

Antonia closed her eyes and opened them again, with an air of mystery. “Maybe it was a coincidence,” she continued, “but when Aunt Angela was lying in bed that night she heard a rattle that sounded just like chains, followed by some soft thuds like footsteps, and by this time she was terrified, being all alone.”

“I would have phoned someone and got them to come round,” said Sasha, shivering.

“Yes, then dived under the bedclothes,” added Izzy shakily.

“Well, she did dive under the bedclothes,” said Antonia, “only when she dared to look out after a couple of minutes of silence, she saw a woman in a long white dress standing right over her. Aunt Angela screamed the place down and the woman turned to a shadow, then disappeared altogether.”

“And did she ever see the woman again or hear that anyone else living in that flat had seen her?” asked Emily amid gasps from Izzy and Sasha.

“No, because she moved out of the apartment one week later!” finished Antonia.

Izzy shuddered and snuggled down in her bed. “Was that the best or the worst scary story?” she asked in a small voice.

“I suppose it was both,” said Antonia. “Or neither. Just the scariest.”

“It was certainly that!” said Sasha quietly. “Let's not have any more. I'm already a bag of nerves!”

Nicole, who'd been lying down, sat up dramatically and folded her arms a bit huffily. “And now we've got to try and sleep!” she said. “Thanks very much, Antonia. Very helpful!”

Everyone laughed and I suggested that someone told a funny story or a joke. “Only not me, because I don't know any,” I quickly added.

“What do birds say at Halloween?” Emily offered, through a yawn.

“I don't know, what do birds say at Halloween?” we chorused.

“Trick or tweet!”

Then Emily laughed her head off, which was much funnier than the actual joke as she'd got big-time gigglitis and her face always crinkles up so much when she's laughing that hard.

“I can tell you some more if you want,” she went on, as soon as she was able to speak again.

“No, that'll keep us going just fine!” said Nicole, yawning as Emily and the others switched their lights off.

“Night,” said Antonia. “Sorry about my story.”

“S'okay,” said Izzy softly.

“Night,” someone else murmured.

“Bry!”

It was Emily whispering my name in the dark and I was a bit annoyed, because she'd woken me up from a lovely dream.

I looked over to her bed. “What?” I asked. Then I realized she was actually fast asleep and I must have just imagined she'd spoken. Or maybe I dreamed it. It was very confusing.

“Bry…”

“So you
are
awake?” I whispered.

“Only because you woke me,” she said in a voice that was thick with sleep.

“But I thought you woke
me
!”

“Shh! Listen!”

We both stayed completely quiet and from above us came the softest of footsteps.

“You still think it's a bird?” I asked Emily, my shoulders tensing slightly.

She paused before answering. “Something like that.” Then, when I didn't reply, she went on, “Oh come on, Bry, you don't believe in ghosts and neither do I!”

I nodded. She was right. It was ridiculous to imagine even for a second that this could be a ghost. It was only Antonia's story that had freaked us a bit. “No, but…”

“But what…?”

“But I want to know what it is.”

“How are you going to find out?”

“I don't know, but I will. Somehow.”

On Sundays everything happens a bit later than it does on the other days of the week. We get up later, we eat breakfast later and most people spend ages simply chilling in their boarding houses. This Sunday was just as hot as the day before, so everyone was outside enjoying the sun. Emily was working in her garden and Sasha and Izzy had gone off for a sculling session at Pollington Water, which is a beautiful lake nearby. Nicole had persuaded Antonia to go for a swim, even though Antonia had complained that she'd freeze. She'd only agreed after Nicole had suggested they could warm themselves up in the sun on the lawn at the back of the main building afterwards.

So I had the perfect opportunity to double-check every single room on the top landing and try to find a way up to the attic. I really wanted to go into Matron's room, to see whether there was a staircase in there, by any chance, but I wasn't sure if I dared. It was a cheeky thing to do. Of course, I could simply tell her about the noises, but I knew Matron – she'd only laugh and say we had overactive imaginations.

I didn't realize, until I went round the corner of our landing, that the three Year Nines who share the room on the left after the airing cupboard were still in their dorm. In fact, it was as I was passing their door that it opened and out they came, all talking excitedly about something. They stopped when they saw me.

“Oh! Bryony! Hi! What are you doing round here?” asked Nadia.

“I was just…er…looking for Matron.”

“I think she went outside. She said she was going to read her book round the side of Forest Ash in the shade somewhere.”

“Oh, right, thanks.” I turned to go back to Emerald until they'd disappeared, but Nadia called after me. “Hey, Bryony, you lot haven't heard any strange noises in the night, have you?”

I hesitated, but there was no reason not to tell the truth.

“Yes…like there's a bird or a mouse or something in the roof.”

The Year Nines looked at each other and I saw Annie nudge Gemma subtly.

“Yes, it's probably just something like that.”

I knew they were trying not to scare me. “Why, what did you think it was?”

“Depends whether you believe in ghosts,” said Nadia.

I smiled at her. “No, I don't.”

“Anyway, there's sure to be some obvious explanation,” Annie said. “We're going to tell Mr. Monk tomorrow.”

I went back to Emerald and stayed there until I was sure they'd gone out, then crept back out and walked along to the airing cupboard. It was more of a room than a cupboard, because you could walk right in. Along three walls were shelves with piles of towels and sheets and blankets and pillowcases, but there were no hatches or staircases anywhere, so I went on to look at the cleaning room again.

It didn't look any different to the way it had the day before, but I had to make sure I wasn't missing anything, so when I spotted a light switch I clicked it on, transforming the little room. Now I could clearly see all the brooms and buckets and cloths and detergents. And I could also see that, right at the back of the cupboard, going off to the left, was a staircase. I walked slowly towards it, holding my breath.

Was this how the princess in the story
Sleeping Beauty
felt on her fifteenth birthday when she started exploring parts of the palace she'd never seen before? There didn't seem to be another light switch anywhere, so I tiptoed cautiously up the steep, narrow stairs, my heartbeat starting to quicken as I wondered what I would find. Did ghosts walk around during the day? I snapped that thought out of my mind instantly, because it was ridiculous and I knew it. And anyway it was far too hot. In any ghost story I've ever read, the air is always cold.

My eyes widened as I climbed the last few stairs, because I could see the whole loft. There was a huge water tank with loads of pipes everywhere, making a faint buzzing sound and the occasional clunk. I didn't mind those noises. They were almost comforting. The beams sloped diagonally, following the shape of the roof, and there was a mass of dirty yellowy insulation. On a cold day it would probably be really cosy up here, even though it was a big area and a lot of it was empty. Along one side, old paint cans, brushes and rolls of wallpaper were stored. And next to them, dusty boxes. Then there were some unusual things that had obviously been dumped here instead of being thrown away, like a tailor's dummy and a globe, an ironing board and a microwave, a computer printer and piles of old curtains.

A proper window had been built into the roof and it was very slightly open. Had that window been closed I think the heat would have been unbearable. I started exploring very cautiously because, although I don't hate mice, or even rats, if one scuttled out of the silent shadows and ran over my toes, I might be terrified. And what if a bird or a bat flew into my face? That would be totally scary too.

But I was here to investigate and that meant searching every nook and cranny, so I ought to get on with it before anyone discovered me. The thought of being discovered made me freeze. Had I closed the cleaning room door? I couldn't remember. In the excitement of finding the staircase I'd completely forgotten that I didn't actually have permission to be up here. I had to carry on, though, and complete my mission. My eyes were still wide, trying to take in absolutely every centimetre of floor and wall and beam and insulation, but as I got closer to the far end I realized gradually that it wasn't the end. It lead round a corner. So then my mouth felt dry as my mind conjured up images of scrabbling, flea-infested rats, or – the worst possible nightmare – a dead body.

Stop it, Bryony
, I told myself fiercely.
There won't be anything…

But what I heard next made my heart pound in my chest: Matron's voice, muffled, as though she was quite far away. “Bryony? Did you want me?” She must have been outside our dorm.

This was terrible. I was sure now that I hadn't closed the door to the cleaning room. What if she came up the stairs and found me here, breaking school rules? I had to go. Right now, so I didn't get in any trouble. I could pretend I'd spilled something in our dorm and was in the cleaning room looking for a cloth to wipe it up with.

Then something happened that made me stop in my tracks. I was about to turn to walk on shaky legs towards the stairs, when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of silver-grey streaking through the tiny gap of the open window and I gasped at the shock and the speed. What was it? Some kind of animal. But what?

My legs trembled a bit as I went down the stairs, and my ears strained to hear whether Matron was still nearby. But there wasn't a sound. The cleaning room was silent and still. I
had
left the door about a centimetre open, though, and I felt weak with relief that I hadn't been discovered. I poked my head out really slowly and looked right and left, but no one was there. I shut the door behind me and hurried along the corridor and into Emerald, where I flopped onto my bed and thought through all that had just happened.

What was that silver creature? Then something clicked inside my brain. It must have been a squirrel. Obviously! I smiled to myself. Why hadn't I thought of that before? It had simply climbed up the wall and through the window. I mean it couldn't have been anything else. Certainly not a rat. It was far too agile – it almost flew out of the window. And only a squirrel would be able to get down the side of the building without hurting itself. I tried to visualize the wall. Was there ivy or something growing up it? I couldn't remember. We didn't often go round that side. But squirrels don't even need ivy. They run up tall tree trunks without any trouble.

In no time at all I was downstairs, then out of the building, staring up at the side wall of Forest Ash. It was almost completely covered with some kind of climbing plant that had grown up a trellis. The plant stopped at the roof but the attic window was less than a metre above it. So now I felt sure that the mystery was solved. The squirrel must have scrambled up and down this wall, clinging to the plant and the trellis. Easy peasy! I couldn't wait to tell the others.

After that Sunday the weekdays seemed lovely and peaceful and ghost-free. When I'd told the others about going up to the attic, they'd gasped and seemed a bit disapproving. “You might have got caught!” Nicole had said, making the others nod, wide-eyed. But then when I came to the bit about the squirrel, it was obvious they were relieved, especially Izzy. “Thank goodness for that, Bry!” she'd said. And she'd looked at me really gratefully.

I guessed the Year Nines must have reported the noises they'd heard to Mr. Monk, and he'd probably stopped the squirrel coming in. All I know is that none of us in Emerald heard anything more from the attic, night or day, and after a while I forgot about how fazed I'd been.

The following Friday was the introductory day for the new Year Sevens who would be coming to Silver Spires in September. Seeing them all around the place took me right back to my own introductory day. The main thing I remember was the feeling that I might not fit in because I wasn't somehow girlie enough. I didn't actually meet Emily that day; I didn't really meet anyone. It was as though I was there, but I wasn't a part of it. I just watched everything that was going on, and listened to other people talking and laughing and seeming excited.