The Man With No Face (5 page)

“It’s all right, Rod,” he whispered. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Honestly. All that stuff about the little man with no face-I made it up. Just for a laugh.”

Some laugh, I thought.

“Look, I don’t know where you are,” he said. “So if you could find your way over to me we can get up the steps together. That’s it …”

That’s it? I hadn’t moved. I couldn’t. I was sitting, petrified with fear. I wanted to explain to Colin that I was at the steps, but it was just like the nightmare. The words wouldn’t come.

“Over here; you’re nearly there,” he whispered. “Don’t be frightened. Just give me your hand, Rod. That’s right. And now … Hey, Rod, what are you doing with my hand?”

The scream that followed must have been louder than the thunder outside.

Uncle Geoff certainly heard it in the shed, because it didn’t seem any time at all before the door burst open and a flashlight beam swept the cellar.

“You’re OK,” Uncle Geoff shouted to me as he jumped over me to reach Colin. “Just follow Auntie Carrie’s torch beam up the steps. It’s nothing. Just the lights fused.”

I knew that Colin wasn’t dead because I could hear his gasping and sobbing. But when Uncle Geoff brought him up the steps in a fireman’s lift, I saw immediately that Colin’s hair had turned pure white.

He was fine after he was treated for shock in hospital. They moved to a flat soon after, so there were no more cellar games. I can’t say I minded.