Authors: Pam Harvey
Wednesday, 22 December, afternoon
E.D., Gabby and Hannah trudged across the low-lying sand dunes, their heads and bodies bent into the stiff breeze that was whipping off the ocean. They steered a path towards a small concrete retaining wall and followed a worn track that led through the scrub until they came to an open area of grass.
‘Let’s run for it,’ E.D. called. The others followed him across the grassy area and onto a dirt path that wound its way up to the foot of the lighthouse.
‘Do we break it down?’ E.D. said, pushing against the door. To his surprise, it creaked open. ‘Hey, I thought you said it was locked.’
‘It was.’ Hannah peered past E.D. into the gloomy interior.
Gabby followed E.D. into the lighthouse. ‘You coming?’ she said to Hannah.
‘Of course.’ Tentatively Hannah stepped into the darkness. An enormous spiral staircase dominated the inside of the lighthouse. Hannah looked up. Dim shafts of daylight from small windows cast a soft glow in the stairwell at regular intervals.
‘Is there a light switch down there somewhere?’ E.D. called. He’d started climbing the iron stairs. Hannah looked around but couldn’t see anything that looked like a switch.
‘Nothing,’ she whispered.
‘Great. We’re in a lighthouse and we can’t see a thing because there’s no light,’ E.D. muttered. ‘Hey, there’s a door here.’ Gabby and Hannah joined him on a small landing. ‘Locked.’ Behind them the door they’d come through banged shut.
‘Oh my God, what was that?’ Gabby wheeled around.
‘The wind must have closed the door. C’mon, let’s keep climbing. This is stupid—as if we’re going to find a will hidden here. There’s nothing in here except stairs.’
‘I’ll just go back and check the door,’ Hannah said. ‘Wait here.’ E.D. sighed loudly and sat down on a small iron-grilled landing.
‘So, Gabby, what do you make of all this anyway? You don’t think—’
‘I can’t open it!’ Hannah shrieked from below.
E.D. swore under his breath and headed back down. ‘Weird,’ he said, rattling the old, brass door handle. ‘It’s stuck.’ He pulled hard but it held fast.
‘Hey!’ Hannah shouted, banging on the wood with her fists. ‘Can anyone hear us? Let us out!’ E.D. hauled his backpack off his shoulders.
‘I think I put a torch in here,’ he muttered, rummaging through it.
‘HELP!’
‘There’s no one there, Han.’ Gabby patted her pocket. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got my phone.’
‘Don’t panic, Hannah. The others know where we are.’ E.D. pulled out his torch. He pressed the button. ‘Great,’ he groaned, banging it on his leg. ‘Battery’s flat. Let’s keep searching.’
Once again they began the climb. At first, the iron steps were wide and easy to navigate, but as the stairs curved and spiralled upwards, Hannah found herself getting closer to the edge where the steps were at their widest. She gripped the thin rail in her left hand tightly.
E.D. and Gabby pushed on as Hannah slowed down. She was now sliding her body against the cold stone wall and was starting to feel faint. She paused at a tiny window, reaching a hand out to cling onto a small red air vent protruding from just beneath the glass. She stared out over the water, breathing hard, trying to ignore the feeling of cold and dread eating away at her.
‘Gab?’ she called, her voice weak and croaky. ‘Gab?’
‘Hannah? Where are you? We’re at the top. It’s scary.’
Just another flight of steps further up, E.D. and Gabby gazed in astonishment at the space they found themselves in. A thin metal platform surrounded an enormous cylinder of glass pieces in the middle of the room, but when E.D. looked more closely he saw that the light wasn’t big at all. He whistled softly.
‘What?’ Gabby whispered, holding on tightly to a narrow pole connected to the floor just to her left. She didn’t want to look outside though it was impossible to ignore the rain spattering the glass and the sound of the wind howling all around them.
‘Look at that tiny light,’ E.D. said, staring into the centre of the glass cylinder.
‘Do I have to?’
‘It’s just a tiny little light, Gab. The size of my finger.’
‘E.D., I don’t want a lesson…’
‘It must be all these reflective lenses that make the light seem so bright,’ E.D. continued, shaking his head.
‘There’s nothing here, E.D. Let’s go.’
Below them, Hannah could hear the sound of Gabby’s voice but she couldn’t move. She felt as if her hand had frozen over, permanently attached to the air vent. She was gripping it so hard that her knuckles had turned white.
‘C’mon, Hannah,
move,’
she whispered, urging herself to let go of the rail and make her way up the final flight of stairs. Closing her eyes, Hannah gritted her teeth and with one last monumental effort, she released her hold on the bar. Feeling herself swaying, Hannah lunged for the next step, leaning her body against the wall to keep from falling backwards. As quickly as possible, she stumbled up the last remaining stairs.
‘Hannah, are you okay? You look as white as a sheet.’ Hannah watched Gabby’s look of concern suddenly turn to horror.
‘W-what?’ Slowly Hannah turned to look behind her. ‘What is it?’
‘E.D.?’ Gabby whispered. She closed her eyes and opened them again. ‘S-sorry, I thought…oh, nothing.’
Something smashed behind them.
‘Sorry. Just gave it a push and it came out.’ E.D. held a number of triangular lenses in his hand. ‘Hey, there’s something down there.’ He reached his arm into the central hole and wrapped his fingers around a long thin cylinder tied to a metal pole with a rough piece of leather.
‘E.D., what are you doing?’ Gabby cried.
‘E.D., you can’t…’ Hannah froze. ‘Oh my God, look—have you found the will?’ Hannah gasped as E.D. upended the tube and an old piece of paper slid out.
E.D. picked it up gently and unravelled it. ‘“The Last Will and Testament of Harold Thomas Croft.”’
‘Thomas?’ said Gabby.
‘His father, probably.’ Hannah went over to E.D. and started reading the will. ‘“I leave my property and residence to my wife, Jane Elizabeth. In the event of her death, all my goods and chattels are bequeathed to my eldest child, Elizabeth Valda Croft. In the event of her
death, my goods and chattels are bequeathed to my eldest son, Thomas Francis Croft.”’
‘That’s Thomas. He’s the only one left! So he gets everything that belonged to his parents.’
E.D. gave a low whistle. ‘And check out the address. A house there would be worth millions these days! That means Thomas could be a millionaire.’
‘Only if he hurries.’ Hannah pointed at the will. ‘See this? “If no claim is apparent in the first thirty-five years from the death of the last member to be bequeathed, then my home is to be placed with the trustee in possession of my last Will and Testament.”’ Hannah looked up. ‘Elizabeth died thirty-five years ago tonight. Thomas has only got hours left to lay claim to this will.’
E.D. rolled up the paper and put it back in the tube. ‘Let’s get out of here and tell him. How did you go with that phone, Gab?’
‘No reception,’ Gabby said. ‘I’ll try again.’
‘Right, okay, let me think. Hannah, you just sit down and get your strength back.’
‘I do feel kind of sick.’ Hannah moved back against the wall and sat down. ‘It must be the height or something.’
‘Okay, I’m still thinking.’
‘Still no reception.’ Gabby felt her stomach tighten. What had she seen a moment ago? She stared at the space behind Hannah. Although it just wasn’t possible, she could have sworn she’d seen an old man standing there.
Angus stared out the window and swore softly. He’d watched the others disappear over the rise, but that had been over an hour ago and he’d heard nothing from them since. He’d tried texting Gabby’s phone but for some reason the messages didn’t appear to be getting through.
He paced about the games room, occasionally flicking snooker balls around but more often gazing out the window and wondering what was happening at the lighthouse. Why were they taking so long?
‘Everything okay in here?’
Angus jumped. ‘Yes, Mrs Dalrymple. I…I’m just waiting for the others. They’ve gone to get some soft drinks from the vending machine.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Ling’s feeling much better. I’ve rung her parents and her mother is on her way down here. Do you want to go up and see her?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’m just going in to Beachport to grab a few things. Is there anything you guys want?’
‘Oh, um, no, I don’t think so. Thanks.’
Angus ran up the stairs and knocked gently on Ling’s bedroom door. The door opened and Ling stood there looking anxious.
‘Angus, there’s something wrong.’
‘Yeah, I know. Mrs Dalrymple—’
‘No. With the others. They’ve been too long. Come on.’
‘Where are we going? I don’t think you—’ ’I’m going to the lighthouse. Are you coming or not?’
Angus said nothing as he followed her down the stairs.
Hannah sat shivering, watching Gabby fiddle with her phone.
‘Anything?’ she asked.
Gabby shook her head. She looked over towards E.D., and in spite of the situation almost smiled. E.D.’s backside was sticking out from the chamber where he’d found the will. He was searching the rest of the area. Finally, he pulled his head out. ‘Nothing else,’ he said, then stopped suddenly, his eyes darting to the stairs.
‘What?’ Hannah said, looking about frantically.
‘Ssshhhh. I thought I heard something.’ E.D. sat up, cocking his head towards the stairwell.
‘What?’ Gabby whispered. She held her breath.
Somewhere close a door creaked.
‘That,’ E.D. said, getting up.
‘Someone’s there,’ Hannah said, quickly getting to her feet.
Gabby looked at E.D. She didn’t know whether she was more frightened of what was happening or the look of fear etched on E.D.’s face. None of them moved. Soft footsteps could be heard on the stairs.
‘W-who is it?’ Gabby croaked, surprising herself that she’d actually spoken. Suddenly the footsteps stopped and for a moment there was total silence. An old man appeared at the top of the steps, staring at the cylinder clutched in E.D.’s hand. Then he spoke. ‘Give it to me.’
Hannah gasped. Standing on the top step and staring at them was the man she had seen in the photograph of Care ‘n’ Comfort Cottage. A lot older, perhaps, but still the same man. ‘Ronald Jamison!’
The man turned his scowling face towards Hannah.
‘Gabby,’ whispered Hannah. ‘I think I’m going to faint.’
Wednesday, 22 December, evening
‘It’s stuck,’ Angus said, banging on the door.
‘They’re in there,’ Ling said. ‘I know it.’
‘Hey, guys, can you hear me?’ Angus called, bashing the door again. He pressed his ear against the wood. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
‘Angus, go to the fish and chip shop and find Angelo.’
Angus took one look at Ling’s worried face and set off. Ling pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and edged her way around the base of the lighthouse so that at least she was partially out of the wind.
‘Give that to me,’ Ronald Jamison snarled, pointing to the tube in E.D.’s hand.
‘Time to get out of here,’ E.D. yelled, springing to his feet. He charged past the man and hit the stairs, bounding down three at a time. Gabby and Hannah dodged the old man and followed E.D.
‘Stop there!’ they heard Ronald Jamison shout.
‘B-but the door’s locked!’ Hannah’s voice echoed down the stairwell. The others ignored her. By the time Hannah got to the last landing E.D. was already making his way back up, Gabby not far behind.
‘You’re right,’ Gabby said to Hannah. They looked up as they heard the sound of the old man’s footsteps.
‘Oh, God, he’s coming down! What if he’s got some sort of weapon? We’re trapped in here.’ Hannah pressed herself against the cold stone wall.
‘Gabby, give me your phone. Maybe there’s some sort of interference up there.’ E.D. paused alongside one of the small windows and gazed out. ‘There was some rope by that little metal door up there.’ Hannah looked confused. ‘Try and open one of the windows near the bottom.’
While E.D. fiddled with the phone, Gabby and Hannah headed further down to the nearest window, desperately trying to find a way to get it open.
‘They’re too high,’ Hannah moaned. ‘Except maybe this one,’ replied Gabby, pausing alongside it. ‘But the glass?’
‘E.D., is there anything up there to smash the glass with?’
The clatter of E.D.’s steps paused briefly. ‘Hang on!’ He arrived a moment later holding up the tube containing the will.
‘E.D., you’re not going to…’
Crash.
With one firm blow, E.D. drove the end of the tube into the glass. From above them came a shout.
‘Give that will to me!’ the man bellowed.
Three horrified faces turned to look back up the steps. E.D. knocked away the last few pieces of glass then put his face to the opening and shouted. Wind and rain swept in.
‘I couldn’t get them to come,’ Angus shouted, running along the cement path towards the lighthouse. Dripping wet and breathing hard, he
paused in front of Ling. ‘Mira was really coughing. There was someone visiting them.’ Angus took another breath. ‘I tried talking to Angelo but he was too distracted.’
They both jumped backwards at the sound of glass smashing around to their left.
‘E.D.!’ Angus shouted, grabbing Ling’s hand and heading off to the other side of the lighthouse. A large, thick rope hung down from one of the windows. Hannah’s face appeared.
‘Boy, are we glad to see you,’ she called. Her head vanished and a moment later her feet appeared, dangling out of the window.
‘Careful, Hannah,’ Ling called.
Angus steadied the rope. ‘Don’t look down,’ he said.
Slowly the rest of Hannah’s body squeezed through the tiny opening. Gripping the rope tightly, she eased herself down the side of the lighthouse, trying to ignore the wind buffeting her body and the steep drop to the ground below.
Inside the lighthouse, E.D. quickly wound the rope through the air vent. ‘We’ll hang on as well,’ he said, clinging firmly to the other end of the rope, his feet pressed up against the wall for maximum support.
They could hear the old man breathing heavily as he came down the steps. When E.D. looked up, he saw the glint of something in the man’s hand. Maybe Hannah’s right, he thought. He has got a weapon.
‘Oh no,’ Gabby groaned. ‘He’s nearly here!’
‘Concentrate on this first, Gab,’ E.D. called.
Gabby took a section of the rope and held it tight. They both felt the strain as Hannah slowly made her way down the short distance to the ground below.
‘He’s here!’ E.D. looked up as Ronald Jamison swung at him and managed to duck away in time. Something metallic hit the wall next to him, ringing sharply. At the same moment, the rope in E.D.’s hand went slack.
‘Hannah’s down,’ Gabby yelled.
‘Quick! Your turn!’ E.D. kicked sharply behind him, connecting with something soft. The old man grunted but E.D. didn’t let go of the rope. ‘Hurry, Gabby.’
As quickly as she could, Gabby climbed to the window edge and turned around. ‘E.D.!’ she screamed as Ronald Jamison went to strike E.D. again with a piece of metal pipe. E.D. moved quickly to one side but this time the pipe hit him in the side. Gabby felt the rope suddenly
slacken and she dropped half a metre before it tightened again.
‘It’s okay, Gab,’ E.D. called from inside the lighthouse. ‘I’ve tied the rope to the air vent! Keep going!’
Gabby half slid, half walked down the rest of the wall. Angus caught her before she fell and helped her stand up. ‘E.D.’s in there with this maniac! Ronald Jamison’s trying to get the will from him.’
They stared up at the window but the wind was making too much noise for them to hear anything. Suddenly, E.D. appeared, his torso bent backwards out of the window as if he was being pushed.
‘Oh, no!’ Gabby screamed.
E.D. disappeared back inside.
‘I’m going in,’ Angus said, grabbing the rope.
‘Are you sure?’ Ling said. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for Angelo?’
‘And what if he doesn’t come?’ Angus shook his head. ‘I’m going to help E.D.’ He grabbed the rope and started the slow climb up.
In the stairwell, E.D. was facing the old man. He might be old, thought E.D. grimly, but he’s pretty tough.
Ronald Jamison swung the metal pipe in slow
circles. ‘Come on, boy. Give me that will. It’s no good to you. No good to anyone any more.’
‘It belongs to Thomas Croft,’ E.D. said. ‘And he’s on his way to get it.’
That startled the man. He swore and flung the bar at E.D., only just missing him.
‘Hey!’ said a voice from the window, and Angus swung in onto the steps.
‘Hiya, mate,’ said E.D. to Angus without taking his eyes off the man. ‘About time you got here.’
‘Where’s the will?’
‘In my pocket. Safe.’
‘Not for long!’ the old man roared and charged down the steps, crashing into both boys. E.D. felt himself topple backwards and twisted his body so that he slammed into the wall rather than fall down the steps. Angus wasn’t so lucky. He fell back, the old man falling with him, and they both rolled down the stairs.
‘Angus!’ yelled E.D. and ran after them. In the darkness of the stairwell, he couldn’t see the tangled bodies until he was almost on them. At the last minute he jumped, landing in the flat area near the closed lighthouse door.
For a moment there was silence and then someone groaned. E.D. pulled at the old man
and rolled him over. He could feel Ronald Jamison’s warm breath on his arm, but the man was unconscious. Angus sat up, dazed. ‘You okay, mate?’
‘Brilliant,’ said Angus, trying to get up. ‘Except for this arm.’ He bit his lip as he leaned back against the wall, cradling his arm to his chest. ‘The old guy?’
‘Been better,’ said E.D. ‘But he’ll live.’
Suddenly, the door crashed open and a fury of wind and noise came rushing in. Angus stared at the man standing in the doorway. Ling, Gabby and Hannah stood behind him.
‘About time someone opened that door,’ E.D. said.
‘It’s the guy who was with Angelo,’ Angus whispered, his face creased in pain.
‘You have something of mine,’ the tall man said, his face a picture of astonishment and bewilderment.
Ling stepped forward. ‘This is Thomas Croft.’