‘We need to have a little chat.’
That’s what Amanda said to me as we sat down on the sofa. Once again, everything in the room was back to normal. It even looked quite homely – more than usual. The strange smell from before was still there, but intermingled with something like bread or baking. Mum was nowhere to be seen; nor were the blankets that were previously folded on the sofa. I tried to work out what else was different, then realised the answer lay in the brown vase on the coffee table. It had been brought over from the windowsill, where it had stood empty and dusty. Now it was cleaned up and filled with orange flowers I didn’t know the name of and things that looked like wheat and thistles.
‘I see you like my little autumnal bouquet,’ she said, brightly.
‘It’s …’
I had been about to say ‘it’s nice’ but decided to keep my thoughts to myself until I heard what they were going to tell me.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Dad chipped in. I looked up at him. I had never heard him use the word ‘beautiful’ in his life.
Over in the corner, Father Tobias said, ‘It is indeed. Very seasonal.’ He was sitting in the armchair, eating what looked like a mince pie. ‘Isn’t it, Katherine?’
I couldn’t really find much to argue with, so I just nodded. Dad tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘You should reply properly, Kitty, when Father Tobias talks to you.’
I glared at him. ‘He took my books.’
‘But you’ve got lots of books here,’ Father Tobias said, lifting up a stack of paperbacks from nowhere, as if by magic. I recognised some of the titles.
‘You’ve been in my room!’ I shouted, rising to my feet, but Amanda laid a firm hand on my shoulder and pulled me back down.
‘I’m afraid so,’ Father Tobias said. ‘On your father’s permission, of course. I was going from room to room, blessing them with holy water. Do you know what holy water is, Katherine?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me,’ he said, smiling.
‘It’s water that’s holy.’
There was a moment of silence, then both Father Tobias and Amanda laughed. Amanda raised her hand to her face as her eyes creased up and Father Tobias’s stomach moved up and down as he held on to the crust of the pie in his hand. At first, I thought Dad was going to tell me off. A look of annoyance passed over his face, but then he, too, smiled and let out a chuckle. It didn’t sound real though.
‘Yes, well, ask a silly question,’ said Father Tobias. ‘Yes, you are quite right, Katherine. Hit the nail on the head, there. It’s water that has been blessed.’ He took out a little glass bottle with a cork in the top, like a magician again, and held it up. It glinted in the warm yellow of the ceiling light. ‘Earlier today, we told your mother we were going to bless this room. With this.’ He shook the bottle and I saw the twinkle of some liquid swirling against the side. I almost thought I could hear a little splashing sound, but decided I must have been imagining it, since I was too far from the bottle to hear anything inside it. And anyway, it was too small to give off a sound even if I were right up close.
‘When I said this to your mother, we were prepared for her – or rather, for something inside her – to object to the suggestion.’
I heard Dad shift from foot to foot near my side. I looked up at his face, but his direction was turned away from me, towards the crackling fire.
‘I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear, Katherine, that she got quite agitated by the suggestion. Quite hysterical, some would say. And she started to say very strong, emotive and, some may argue, offensive things to me and Amanda and your father.’
I knew what he was talking about. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear any more.
‘Can I go?’ I looked up at Dad again, hoping he would turn to face me. But he just stared on, as if his eyes alone were responsible for keeping the flames burning in the grate. ‘Please, Dad, can I go? I want to go up to bed?’
‘But it’s so early, Kitty,’ Amanda said. ‘Stay here, just for a little while.’
I wasn’t liking this. Not at all.
‘I really think I should—’
‘Katherine, please. We want to explain. Amanda thinks she heard the door go earlier today and saw that your coat had gone. Did you come back? Did you hear anything?’
I could feel myself going red and my eyes were starting to burn.
WE WILL TEAR OPEN HER HOLES AND FILL THEM WITH NEEDLES
I heard the words in my head so loudly, I was convinced the others must have been able to hear them too. But I shook my head, and I looked pleadingly, begging them to believe me. ‘I didn’t hear anything.’
Amanda returned her hand to my shoulder. ‘I think you did, Kitty.’
I stopped looking at any of them and focused my eyes on the floor, trying to pretend I wasn’t there. ‘Please, I just want to go to bed,’ I said, quietly. And the tears started to fall.
‘There is a reason why we’d prefer you to play outside, Kitty. Rather than wander about the house.’ Dad was speaking now, and he came to sit next to me and Amanda on the sofa, so that I was squashed between them both. ‘This … this process … this journey your mother is on. It’s important. I’m sure you realise that. And we want it to work in the best possible way. But for that to happen, I think it might be a bit … well, a bit upsetting for you.’
I sniffed and shook my head again. ‘I’m not upset,’ I said, although the tear making its way slowly towards my chin might as well have been screaming liar! It was clear that I wasn’t exactly happy. And I felt too tired to carry on hiding it.
‘So, Kitty,’ Dad said, ‘we just wanted to explain that you didn’t have to worry. Whatever you may have heard. Whatever it sounded like. We can promise that everything is OK. Or it will be OK. You just have to trust us.’
Both Dad and Amanda put their arms around me. They probably thought I didn’t notice, but I could feel that their hands were touching.
‘And my books,’ I said, still in my small voice. ‘Why have you brought my books down here?’
I looked over at Father Tobias, who let out a little laugh. ‘Oh, I was just interested, my dear. That’s all. I was a little worried that earlier I may have given you the impression that I disapproved of reading. Of course, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Reading is a noble and important pursuit and must be encouraged in the young. But, of course, as I suggested before, there’s a right time and a right place for everything, and some of the material you’ve been allowed to acquire may be a little, er …’ he twisted his lips a bit, like he’d bitten into a sharp apple, ‘inappropriate. Unsuitable.’
I hadn’t even consciously decided to frown at him, but I was already starting to do it.
‘So, with your father’s permission, I have removed some titles.’ He coughed, a little awkwardly.
I stiffened, drawing away from Dad’s embrace. He was a traitor.
‘Which ones have you stolen?’
Father Tobias looked appalled. ‘Not stolen, my dear. No, I wouldn’t steal. It’s just been agreed … especially, taking into account the current situation—’
‘Which books have you taken from my room?’ I was half-shouting now, half-sobbing, and rose up off the sofa. Dad went to grab me, but Father Tobias raised his hand.
‘It’s quite all right. Let her be angry. She has a right to be.’ He leaned forward and picked up the stack of books once more. ‘I have given the ones I removed to your father for safe keeping. They include certain titles that cover, among other topics, ghosts haunting graveyards, reanimated corpses rising from tombs, several tales of alleged magic in the Middle East that have an unfortunate Arab slant to them, and one or two science fiction novels that imagine the aftermath of nuclear attacks on Great Britain and the United States of America.’
He paused, apparently to let this sink in. I was about to start screaming properly at him when he started up again.
‘However,’ he said, a little louder, as if he suspected what I was about to do, ‘you still have numerous volumes here that I’m sure will keep you most joyfully entertained. Look at this one, Katherine: Five Go Off in a Caravan. That sounds like a fun adventure. And look, here: First Term at Malory Towers. Another, erm, classic.’
I stared daggers at him.
‘I concede,’ said Father Tobias, ‘that the remaining books are all works by that prolific authoress, Mrs Blyton. And one by Mrs Christie, too. The Mysterious Affair at Styles. Did you enjoy the other one of hers you took off with you into the woods? Amanda found it on the mat near the front door.’
I nodded. ‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Did Miss Marple save the day, as usual?’ he said, chuckling.
‘No. There wasn’t anyone called Miss Marple in it.’ I was trying to keep my voice very steady and calm. I looked him right in the eye as I continued. ‘It was about witches.’
I saw him flinch a little as I said the last word. Encouraged by this, I pressed on. ‘And the things they can do to people. How they can make bad things happen.’
He now looked rather troubled, and peered down at the book in his hand. ‘Maybe,’ he said slowly, ‘I should re-evaluate my opinion of Mrs Christie and her output.’ He set The Mysterious Affair at Styles down on the table. ‘Well, if you’re enthusiastic about witches, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this one.’ He held up the last book in the pile. I looked at the front. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
‘I’ve read it,’ I said, flatly.
‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ he smiled. ‘It’s a masterpiece. And an excellent analysis of good and evil. Right and wrong. Important things, I’m sure you’ll agree.’
I said nothing. I was expecting Father Tobias to lead on to the magazine I’d found under the bed. If he found a few collections of ghost stories unacceptable, I was rather interested to see how he’d cope with the pictures in that publication. But his search in my room seemed not to have involved the chest of drawers, and he pressed on with a smile and cough. ‘Right, well,’ he said, tapping the sides of the books now stacked on the coffee table so that they were in a neat tower. ‘That leaves just one last thing to ask you,’ he said, standing up and dusting off crumbs from his black clothes.
‘What?’ I asked, interested in spite of myself.
‘Would you like a mince pie?’
I stared at him, confused.
‘A bit early in the year, I know, but your mother seemed keen on the idea. And Amanda here was kind enough to go out and get the ingredients.’
I looked up at Amanda and then back at Father Tobias. ‘Where are they?’ I eventually asked.
‘Why, in the kitchen of course,’ he said, beaming again. He reached out an arm and opened the door that connected to the kitchen. And behind it was a sight that left me speechless.
Mum was inside. She was fully dressed in black trousers, a white top and a light pink cardigan, and over the top of them she was wearing an apron. She was standing there, holding a tray lined with pies – mince pies, I presumed – and her hands were covered with dark blue oven gloves.
‘Hello, Kitty,’ she said, with a smile. ‘It’s so lovely to see you. I’ve not been well, you see. But I wanted to make up for it. I’ve been baking, as you can see.’
Her voice was warm and soft, as it used to be. Before it got scratchy. Before it became rough and strained and sounded like she was on the edge of tears the whole time. But there was also something strange about it. Something not quite right.
‘Why don’t you come in here and help me finish off the final batch,’ she said. ‘They need dusting with icing.’ She gave me another of her big, happy smiles and set down the tray of pies on the table.
I looked around at Father Tobias, Amanda and, finally, at Dad. And I was alarmed to see he looked like he was about to cry.
‘Go in, love,’ he said, quietly.
Mum was holding out her hand now, beckoning me in.
‘Next I’m going to make some gingerbread,’ she said. ‘Like we used to. You can help put the smiles on the faces. You’re good at that.’
I nodded. Dad gave me a very small push on the shoulder, and my feet started to move, carrying me into the kitchen.
‘You used to eat so much gingerbread. And sweets. Remember what I used to call you?’ she said, as I drew nearer. ‘My little Gretel.’
I nodded again. She was right. That is what she used to call me. But instead of comforting me, and making me happy that my mum seemed to be back, it just made me feel worried. More worried than I’d ever been before. And I couldn’t quite work out why.