Chill (12 page)

I would like to acknowledge certain invaluable sources of information, used when researching this book. The information on page 97 was based on
The Jacobites,
Anthony Kamm, National Museums Scotland Publishing, 1995, (p.15), and the quotation on page 97 was taken from
The Street and Place Names of Dunblane and District
, Archie McKerracher, Stirling District Council, 1992, (p.43). The information on page 96 was also based on
The Street and Place Names of Dunblane and District.

I would like to thank my editor, Gale Winskill, and of course friends and family for their support and encouragement, in particular my children Micah and Martha.

Have Dunadd’s ghosts really been put to rest?
Read on for a spine-tingling extract from
Shiver
,
the spooky sequel to
Chill
.

Samuel and Fiona began to climb the steep narrow steps, with the help of a searchlight.

Fiona gave a wistful glance back at the entrance. She could just make it out below them, as the darkness swallowed them whole and they left the light far behind. What if someone came into the library and closed the secret staircase off again, not knowing they were in here? They might remain here forever. Her blood ran cold at the prospect. It was a risk they would just have to take. She decided not to mention her fears to Samuel. There was no point in making both of them nervous.

“Where d’you think it comes out?” she asked instead, as they climbed.

The staircase turned an abrupt corner and opened out into a low passageway.

“We must be above the drawing room now,” Samuel replied.

“Try not to make any noise,” she added. “We don’t want anyone below to hear us.”

The way twisted and turned and soon it was hard to work out exactly which part of the house they were in anymore. They felt like mice, scurrying about behind the wooden panelling.

Eventually they came to a dead end.

“What’s the matter?” Fiona asked, peering over his shoulder.

“We can’t go any further,” Samuel said.

“But we must be able to,” she insisted, disappointment flooding her.

He shook his head. “This is the end, I’m afraid.”

“Where d’you think we are?” Fiona breathed.

Samuel hazarded a guess. “Somewhere up in the tower, I’d guess. The walls seem to be either brick or stone here.” He rapped on the side of the passageway with his knuckles. Some of it sounded hollow and gave off an eerie echo.

“But why has it been blocked off?”

“I don’t know.” Samuel was at a loss. “What a find, though. Can’t wait to tell the others.

“Maybe we should start heading back,” Fiona murmured, still concerned by the thought of being trapped in there, forever.

It seemed to take an age to find their way back again and, for Fiona, the sight of daylight at the bottom of the narrow stone staircase was a huge relief as she had started to feel claustrophobic.

“Phew! Am I glad to be out of there!” she gasped, as they burst back into the library.

Samuel wasn’t listening. “We’ve found a secret staircase. How brilliant is that?”

But Fiona was staring at something over Samuel’s shoulder.

“What is it?”

She shook her head, trying to formulate the words. She had just seen — or thought she’d seen — a small, dark, shadowy shape sweep past the open doorway; so fast she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it at all. But it left her with an inexplicable feeling.

“Hello?” Fiona called, walking slowly towards the entrance to the drawing room. “Is anyone there?”

“What are you doing?” Samuel began. Fiona put her
finger to her lips.

“Sssssh!”

Silence. Then … a child’s laughter. As faint as a breath of air. Hardly discernible.

“Did you hear that?” Fiona whispered hoarsely, spinning round to face Samuel.

He nodded. “It could have been anything.”

“Charles or Sebastian, you mean? I don’t think so,” Fiona said.

“Then what do you think it was?” Samuel asked nervously.

They looked at each other.

Anything was possible in this old house. Maybe they had found Catherine Morton’s laughing children.