Chapter 18

Jess woke next morning to the sound of rain. Perfect weather for visiting a haunted castle. The first thing she did was to grab her mobile and walk around the hotel until she found a place where her phone worked. A text had come during the night! Two texts, in fact! Darling Fred! A text from him was the perfect start to her day. But wait! Neither of them was from Fred. One was from Dad, and one from Flora.

CLEAVAGES ARE NOT MY STRONG POINT, said Dad’s text. WHAT REALLY MATTERS IS A PERSON’S INNER BEAUTY, AND WHETHER THEIR FEET SMELL OF CHEESE.

Jess sighed. Now for Flora’s text. Flora, of course, had a fabulous dog called Lucky. Lucky was almost as impossibly blonde as Flora, though her nose was a little blacker and wetter than Flora’s.

HI BABE! HOW’S YOUR TRIP? said Flora’s text. HOPE HUNKY-DORY. GUESS WHAT! I’M GOING TO RIVERDENE AFTER ALL! FREYA’S COMING WITH ME, TO ‘LOOK AFTER’ ME. WE’RE LEAVING TOMORROW. BRILL OR WHAT? I’LL KEEP YOU POSTED. LOVE, FLO.

Jess felt a terrific pang of jealousy. How she would have enjoyed a trip to Riverdene with Flora and Freya. Still, at least if Flora was at Riverdene she’d be safely out of Fred’s way.

STILL GOD’S LITTLE FAVOURITE, EH? WELL, ENJOY! she replied. I AM STUCK HERE IN A GRIM HOTEL IN THE RAIN. MY SHOWER CURTAIN SMELLS LIKE AN OLD TRAMP AND MY MUM KEEPS FLIRTING HIDEOUSLY WITH THE WAITERS.

There was a waitress at breakfast, thank goodness. Lover boy with the gleaming brow must be off duty. Anyway, Mum didn’t seem in such a flirtatious mood this morning. She wanted an early start.

As they paid the bill, the gentle rain modulated into a sudden, violent storm. Torrents of muddy water raced down the steep hill, lightning flashed and thunder echoed round the hills. Jess’s mum held an umbrella over Granny as she climbed into the car. Jess leapt into the back and slammed the car door. By the time Jess’s mum got round to the driver’s seat, her hair was wet through. She looked like a scarecrow. Jess was glad Fred wasn’t here to observe this pitiful sight.

‘Goodness! What a storm!’ said Granny. ‘I feel quite chilled!’

In the back of the car was a tartan rug. Jess passed it through to Granny in the front. She received it eagerly and wrapped it round her legs.

‘I might not get out at the castle if it’s raining, Madeleine,’ she said. ‘I’ll just sit in the car, if that’s all right with you.’

‘Yes, fine,’ said Jess’s mum. ‘I still want to go and see this place, though. I’ve –’

‘– always wanted to go there!’ shouted Jess in Mum’s voice. They all laughed. It was the first time Jess had made them laugh for ages.

‘By the way, I had a text from Flora this morning,’ she said. ‘She’s going to Riverdene after all – with her big sister.’

‘Ah, well, that’s a different story altogether,’ said Mum. ‘Freya’s such a sensible girl.’

Huh! What did Mum know? Once Freya had been so mad about a boy, she had gone to a mystic and asked her for a love-spell. Plus – and this was such a dark secret even Freya’s dad didn’t know – she had celebrated her first term at Oxford by having a pig in high heels tattooed on her backside.

‘I expect you miss Flora very much, dear,’ said Granny as they drove through the torrential rain, out of the town and into hilly countryside.

‘Yeah, but at least we can keep in touch via texts,’ said Jess with extreme cunning. So far she had managed to disguise all Fred’s texts as Flora’s.

They followed the signs to Berry Pomeroy, and almost immediately found themselves driving along a narrow claustrophobic track through a wood. So this was the most haunted place in England. For the first time on the whole trip, Jess was actually looking forward to seeing something her mum wanted to show her.

At the end of the long wooded drive they emerged into a sort of clearing. There was a car park sheltered by dripping trees, and a short distance away the ruins of the castle rose, ghastly, dark and fractured, into the sky. Jess’s mum parked the car, and just as they were getting out, the rain stopped with almost spooky suddenness.

‘I’m still not coming round it,’ said Granny. ‘I bought this newspaper two days ago and I haven’t finished it yet.’

‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘We won’t be long.’

Mum bought a couple of tickets from a man in a booth, and Jess looked up at the towering ruins. Strange, twisting vapours rose from the ancient stones. The whole place was steaming in a really eerie way.

‘Berry Pomeroy Castle,’ said her mum, reading from a guidebook, ‘was built in the late fifteenth century as a main family seat of the Pomeroys . . . Wait a minute, that’s a bit boring . . . It was abandoned sometime between 1688 and 1701, and was left to fall into decay. It quickly became overgrown and steeped in mystery, folklore and legends.’

‘Look, Mum,’ said Jess. ‘Do you mind if I just wander about on my own? No offence, right? I just want to sort of tune in to the atmosphere. I can read the guidebook myself. You don’t have to read it for me.’

‘Hah!’ said her mum. ‘You, read a guidebook? All right. I’ll shut up.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll read it, and if there’s anything you want to know, just ask.’

‘Thanks. See you in a minute,’ said Jess, and walked off. She looked around. Broken, ruined walls towered above her on all sides. Some rooks cawed in the nearby wood, and their calls echoed around the walls in a sinister way.

Jess walked off to the right, through a ruined doorway, down a gravel path to a round tower with a strange, empty window that looked, somehow, as if it were scowling. Dripping spiral steps led downwards inside the tower. At the bottom was a sandy floor. A draught of air passed across Jess’s face. She felt cold and horribly lonely.

Suddenly she felt she wanted to talk to Fred. She hadn’t had a text from him for ages. She got out her mobile and rang him on his. There was no reply. It was switched through to voicemail.

Jess didn’t leave a message. She didn’t want to sound like an idiot – desperate and needy. Instead, she had a brilliant idea. She would ring him at home! He probably hadn’t gone out to work yet – most of the catering jobs seemed to be at lunchtime or in the evenings. At this time of day – mid-morning – he was bound to be at home.

Her fingers shook with excitement as she dialled Fred’s home number. She could hear it ringing in that divine house where Fred’s magical presence was a daily reality. Then, suddenly, somebody picked up. It was Fred’s mum.

‘Anne Parsons?’

‘Oh, hello, this is Jess. Is Fred there, please?’

‘Oh, hi, Jess! No – I’m afraid he’s gone away for a few days.’

‘Oh – I thought he had a job?’

‘No – he got the sack yesterday for spilling things and not being polite enough. Honestly, what an idiot! So he’s gone off to Riverdene with somebody – Luke, I think.’

Jess’s heart leapt in shock. Fred was going to Riverdene! He was bound to meet Flora there. Unless – and at this thought an icy spear seemed to stab right through her heart – unless he and Flora had hatched a secret plan to go together.