Paws for Alarm (17 page)

‘Maybe.' I clung to my doubt. I didn't want to believe that Arnold could be in mortal danger. Yet, all those strange things had been happening ...

‘Let's get a good night's sleep.' Arnold turned off the desk light. ‘We'll come to the problem fresh in the morning.'

The twins were in bed and peacefully sleeping, which was more than we could manage. I lay awake, trying not to mind that I was occupying a dead man's bed; trying not to think how swiftly Rosemary's happiness had been swept away; trying not to believe that someone – for some unknown reason – might be planning to do the same to Arnold and me. I tried to lie quietly and not disturb Arnold. He was restless himself, however, and kept tossing and turning.

‘Sorry, honey,' he muttered. ‘Maybe I should have taken the sofa in the study so as not to disturb you. It's this damned arm — every time I'm almost asleep, it feels as though they're pulling the stitches out all over again and I jump awake.'

‘It's all right,' I said. ‘Just breathe deeply and count sheep, or something.'

Maybe we actually dozed off for a bit, unlikely though it seemed. The next thing I was aware of was that peculiar silence the dead of night brings. No traffic, no sounds of human life anywhere; just the occasional hum of machinery carrying on a hidden malevolent existence of its own in some secret subterranean depths.

Then I heard a noise that was all too human. I blinked into wakefulness.

‘Arnold ...?' I whispered uncertainly. ‘Are you all right?'

There was a low passionate groan.

‘Gee, honey,' Arnold mumbled. ‘I'm sorry. I'm just too bushed. Can't you take a raincheck?'

‘Arnold,' I said. That wasn't me. Wasn't it you?'

‘Hell no!' Arnold sounded more alert. ‘Maybe the lads are watching a late night television film.' Television closed down for the night hours ago.'

I saw a circle of tiny fluorescent numbers sweep through the air as Arnold groped for his watch and brought it into focus. ‘You're right,' he said. ‘It's two a.m.'

There came a long languorous sigh.

‘
That
wasn't me! It wasn't you – and it sure as hell wasn't Esmond!' I heard the thump as Arnold's feet hit the floor, then the bedside lamp flashed on.

‘Arnold —' My eyes closed in protest against the sudden blaze of light. I felt disorientated, far from home – and frightened. Everything I had ever read about Borley Rectory, headless coachmen, walled-up nuns, and all the dead but ever-present inhabitants of Olde England paraded through my mind. ‘Arnold – you don't suppose the house is haunted, do you? Do you think we have ghosts?'

A very earthly chuckle suddenly answered me, jolting my eyes wide open. The bedroom was just the same, ordinary, familiar – and yet, there was someone in it with us.

‘It came from over there –' Arnold advanced grimly on the farther wall. There's something funny going on here,' he said.

‘Arnold, come back to bed. We can investigate in the morning.' If we were being disturbed by spirits, I didn't want to know about it. ‘Maybe we ought to go to church – and see what the parson's feelings are about exorcism ceremonies.'

‘There's a rational explanation, Babe,' Arnold assured me. ‘There
has
to be.'

I wasn't so sure, but I wasn't going to wait alone in that big bed while Arnold antagonized the forces of darkness. I groped my way into my dressing gown and crept over to stand behind him. ‘Don't wake the twins,' I begged.

He didn't even hear me. He was prowling along the wall, face intent, head cocked to pick up any sound from the lath and plaster.

‘Please, Arnold, come back to bed.'

‘Presently, presently ...' He tapped experimentally at the inner wall. I don't know why – he'd have no more idea than I would whether the right sound was bouncing back at him.

But the quality of the noise echoing through the room changed. An uneasy puzzled note crept into it.

‘Funny ...' Arnold rapped the wall again. ‘Sounds hollow back there.'

‘Oh, my God!' Suddenly, it came to me. ‘Arnold – that's the wall between the two halves of the house. You're banging on Lania's bedroom wall.'

‘The noise is coming from there,' Arnold said stubbornly, just before the enormity of his behaviour dawned on him. ‘We've never heard anything from there before.'

‘Maybe the wind has changed, or something.' I caught at his pyjama sleeve. ‘Arnold, forget it –'

‘And Richard is away for the weekend –' Arnold continued plodding along the one track his sleep-drugged mind was presenting. ‘What's all this white stuff around the bookcase?'

‘I don't know.' I hadn't noticed the fine white powder ground into the carpet until he mentioned it. But then, I'd been too busy to read lately. ‘Arnold, let's just go back to bed and forget it –'

‘Take hold of the other end of the bookcase, honey. Let's shift it a bit. Maybe there's a disused chimney behind there, or something.'

‘Arnold, this is against my better judgement –' But there was no use arguing with him. He was heaving at his side of the bookcase and he'd only give himself a hernia or a slipped disc if I didn't help. Reluctantly, I grasped the edge nearest me.

‘This would be a lot easier if we took the books out of it first.'

‘It's coming, honey. You're doing fine.'

Gradually, the bookcase swung out from the wall. I was concentrating on keeping it steady so that we didn't get an avalanche of books into the room, waking the twins, when:

‘Christ!' Arnold exclaimed. ‘What the hell -?'

That was when I looked at the wall – or what should have been the wall — and screamed.

I couldn't help it. It was a reflex action. There was no wall there!

There were the remains of a wall – around the edges of a great gaping hole, almost a second doorway. Strips of wallpaper, raw plaster, and brick formed an arc opening on to the unfinished wooden back of a piece of bedroom furniture.

Even as we gaped at it, the dressing table was wrenched away and we stood facing the people on the other side of the hole.

This time, it was Lania who screamed. Piers, standing immediately behind her and clutching a slipping duvet around himself, seemed dumbstruck.

‘What the hell is going on here?' Arnold demanded.

‘That's just what I'd like to know.' Lania got a firmer grip on her dressing gown, but not before I had been able to see that she wore nothing underneath it. ‘What have you done to my wall – and why? Even if you
are
voyeurs, you seem to be carrying it to extraordinary lengths!'

‘Now wait just a minute —' Arnold began.

‘Try waiting yourself!' Piers stepped forward menacingly and we had a few moments of confused uproar.

‘Hold it!' I put up my hand, silencing everyone momentarily, and leaned forward to get a better view into Lania's bedroom. In the distance, two small pale faces had appeared briefly before withdrawing. It was a definite indication of guilty knowledge. I whirled abruptly to catch my own two in the process of a swift retreat.

‘Donna! Donald! Come back here!' I ordered.

There was a long thoughtful pause before they reluctantly obeyed. Meanwhile, I leaned forward again and raised my voice.

‘Angela! Peregrine! We saw you. Come here this instant!'

‘What?' Lania turned to the doorway on the far side of the room. Piers readjusted his duvet inadequately and took a few steps back.

‘Hurry up!' I insisted.

Slowly, they crept forward. So did the twins, until they stood each on their own side of the hacked-out aperture. They looked at each other warily, trying to communicate caution in the face of the adult enemy.

Suddenly, it all fell into place: the way the twins had been quoting Angela and Peregrine – even though they had been confined to quarters and incommunicado for the past week. Even Esmond's sudden appearance at the party last night was explained – he hadn't slipped in when Hazel left, he'd found his way through the bedroom wall. And no wonder he'd been so upset when I accused him of slacking – there'd been no mice here for him to catch. ‘Okay, you kids,' I said. ‘Start talking.'

‘Isn't it great?' Donald tried to brazen it out. ‘If those soccer hooligans ever come after Dad again, we've got an escape hatch for him. He can just disappear behind the bookcase and get away.'

‘We got the idea from television.' Peregrine appeared to feel that this explanation sanctified their endeavour. ‘From
The Wooden Horse.
You know, when the prisoners of war tunnelled their way to freedom –'

‘
You –
' Lania was shaking with fury. ‘You ripped our house apart because of a television programme?'

‘And you carried out the chunks of plaster and debris in your pockets,' I accused the twins. It was all coming clear to me. ‘And in your shoes.
That
was why you were limping – it wasn't blisters, at all. You were lying, too!' I was fighting to control myself, but I was even more furious than Lania.

The twins cringed. Arnold put a restraining hand on my shoulder, but I shook it off.

‘This is monstrous!' Lania raged. ‘A nightmare!' She glared across the opening at us. ‘My children would never have dreamed of doing such a thing if it weren't for your undisciplined brats! They're the worst possible influence and —'

‘Now hold it right there!' I snapped. ‘Mine could never have thought up such an idea by themselves. It was your little rays of sunshine who knew the layout of the house. If you hadn't been too busy alley-catting around to pay the proper attention to them –'

‘I think we'd better sleep on this.' Arnold pulled me back into our room. ‘We can discuss it in the morning like civilized people. We can't do anything about it at the moment, and arguing isn't going to get us anywhere.'

‘An excellent idea.' Piers moved forward tentatively and grasped Lania's arm. She shook him off. His duvet began slipping again. He was trying his best, but it was too bulky to drape like a Roman toga.

‘Mummy –' Angela piped up innocently – ‘what's alley-catting?'

‘Mummy –' Peregrine was also swift to the defensive attack – ‘what's Uncle Piers doing here so late? And why is he wearing a duvet?'

Those kids were going to be able to take care of themselves. They'd probably had plenty of practice.

Lania lashed out. Her hand connected with tiny ears and the air was filled with soul-satisfying howls.

For once, I was in total agreement with Lania. I turned grimly towards the twins. They began edging away.

‘Honey –' Arnold tried to restrain me. ‘Honey, let's leave it until morning –'

‘Shut up, Arnold!' I advanced on the twins and did some lashing out of my own. Fresh howls rent the air.

‘I say, old man –' Piers called across to Arnold. ‘I think we ought to leave this to the ladies and do something more practical ourselves. Shall we move the furniture back into position and call it a night? As you say, we can begin sorting things out in the cold, clear light of day.'

‘Good idea.' Arnold began tugging at the bookcase. He straightened abruptly as a new thought hit him. ‘I suppose these houses are insured?'

‘Bound to be, old man. Mind you, I don't know what category this sort of damage would fall under. Act of God, perhaps? ... No, perhaps not ...'

‘Maybe you'd better find the insurance policy and check it out —' Arnold paused, another unwelcome thought hitting him. ‘I mean, maybe Richard had better.'

‘Quite so.' Piers looked across at him uneasily. ‘Perhaps we ought to have a council of war in the morning ... get all our stories straight.'

Morning eventually dawned, so dark and wet it was barely distinguishable from the night. Nearly as black as my mood, in fact. Another jolly day in Merrie England, fraught with danger and peril for all concerned. Especially my nearest and dearest. I could hear the twins shuffling about in the hallway outside, hungry for their breakfast but nervous about coming in and facing me. They were right.

‘Why don't we tell Richard -?' Arnold poured himself another cup of coffee. ‘Tell Richard that Lania was having a nightmare – and that was how come we heard her? She cried out in her sleep.' He was warming to his story. ‘She cried out several times – it was a really bad nightmare. We heard her and started investigating – and that was how we found out what had happened to the wall.'

‘Why don't we just tell Richard the truth?' I asked coldly. ‘It will hardly come as any surprise to him.'

‘Oh, now, honey, we want to try to keep this respectable –'

‘I fail to see why
we
should worry about Lania's respectability when
she
doesn't.' Since he was pouring, I held out my cup for more coffee. I'd already had too much and it would probably give me a first-class case of caffeine jitters, but who cared? I'd had little enough sleep last night; now I needed to keep awake.

‘I think Richard has enough problems without our adding to them.' Arnold had a point there, but I was in too bad a mood to concede it.

‘We've all got problems.'

‘You're right.' Arnold's mind flew to his own problem. ‘I wanted to spend the day going through my research.' He looked yearningly towards the study. ‘Only now we've got to try to sort out this mess.' His own mood was visibly worsening and I watched him with gloomy satisfaction.

There were louder scuffling noises from the hall. Arnold was diverted.

‘Was that the kids?' he asked. ‘Don't they want to come in?'

‘Not if they're smart –' I raised my voice. ‘If they're smart, they'll run away from home.'