The Ghosts of Blackbottle Rock Read online

  ‘It felt like they to me,’ said Charlie. ‘Anyway, what makes batteries suddenly die like ours did?’

  ‘The theory is,’ Mohan explained, ‘that ghosts draw on the energy within batteries in order to make themselves visible, able to appear and interact with our world.’

  ‘That’s also why rooms get colder when a ghost is present,’ Wei-Li added. ‘They somehow make use of heat, which is a form of energy, in the same way.’

  Outside, massing dirty grey clouds cast the kitchen into a murky half-light that somehow unnerved Charlie. He was glad when Wei-Li skipped over to switch a light on.

  ‘I’ve got something! Mohan cried suddenly, the images on his screen reflecting in his glasses as he leaned closer for a better look.

  ‘Are you going through the camera footage?’

  ‘It’s the one in the attic.’

  They gathered around him expectantly, hunched over on his stool as he skipped back to whatever it was he’d seen and set the view to full-screen. Even with the camera’s night vision ability, the dark images were grainy and indistinct, like a clip from the earliest days of black and white film. Even though the camera was a fixed and nothing was happening, the way it kept readjusting and refocusing to compensate for the lack of light created the illusion that things were moving about, and Charlie wondered whether Mohan was mistaken. Finally, though, something did happen. They could see the photograph shoot off the dresser, becoming a blur crossing the middle of the screen.

  Charlie pulled a face. ‘We saw that with our own eyes!’

  ‘I thought I saw something else…’ Wei-Li said hesitantly.

  ‘Look!’ Mohan urged, irritated. ‘Look again – closer!’

  Charlie and Wei-Li leaned on Mohan’s shoulders, their faces beside his as he replayed the few seconds of footage again. And this time Charlie saw it too.

  Almost camouflaged by the flickering shadows, a black shape moved quickly from right to left towards the dresser, with which it seemed to merge and then vanish. The instant it did so was when the picture flew off.

  ‘Play it again…’ he demanded.

  Mohan ran it through several times, pausing and playing so they could examine every frame. And each time he did so, Charlie thought he could make out more of the figure swooping across the room.

  And it was a figure. A human figure.

  The edges of the shape were blurry and pixelated, but it was the silhouette of a man, leaning forward slightly as if in running posture. Charlie thought he could make out a long, black coat, and a black peaked cap was clearly visible. He shivered. It could only be one thing. Sharing the same eerie attic room with them that night had been a genuine ghost.

  He pulled away from the screen and stared out of the window at the darkening skies outside, but Wei-Li was still glued to the screen.

  ‘Play it one more time, Mohan,’ she asked.

  He sighed wearily. ‘We’ve seen all we going to see. I mean, I know it’s the best thing we’ve ever captured, but—’

  ‘It’s not the pictures I’m thinking of. Play it with the sound on max.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘There is no audio with the cameras!’

  ‘But…I heard something when you were looking at it earlier.’

  ‘That must have been when I was going through what I caught on my digital recorder. But there are no EVPs – I’ve checked.’

  ‘Just humour me.’

  Making a big show of his reluctance, Mohan called up the audio file he’d loaded onto the laptop and clicked ‘play’. There was a long period of silence punctuated by the occasional rustling and shuffling as they moved around the room. Eventually, Charlie heard the clatter of the photograph hitting the wall, followed a couple of minutes later by the smashing of glass as the mirror hit the floor. Then came Mohan’s agitated voice: ‘This is bad! Very bad – grab everything and get out NOW!’

  ‘I wasn’t panicking,’ he said hastily, swivelling round in his chair. ‘I would like to point out that it’s the policy of the FPI to abort a ghostwatch whenever the conditions indicate there might be danger to any member or—’

  ‘Look,’ said Wei-Li, pointing at the screen. ‘It’s still running. You were in such a panic – sorry, strategic withdrawal – that you forgot to turn it off. What I heard comes next.’

  Charlie looked at the graphic, which was a bit like one of those hospital heart monitors, with peaks for sound and a flat-line for silence, and it clearly showed there were few seconds of the recording left to run.

  ‘It’s just our footsteps,’ said Mohan.

  He played it anyway, and all they could hear was the swishing of clothes and jumble of scurrying feet descending the stairs, quickly fading to nothing.

  ‘That’s when the battery dies,’ Mohan explained.

  But Wei-Li was still shaking her head. ‘Have you got earphones for the laptop?’

  ‘Not with me…’

  ‘I think my music player ones will fit,’ Charlie said, studying the port on the edge of the computer.

  They did, and they watched Wei-Li’s face intently as listened once more. She began to breathe more deeply, and then a tear emerged from the corner of one of her deep, dark eyes and trickled down her cheek. She took off the headset and handed it to Charlie, while Mohan played the last part of the file once again.

  Just after Mohan’s warning cry, as they were fleeing the attic room, he heard it. He had heard it before at – Blackbottle Rock. This time it was clearer.

  Children, men, women.

  Screaming…wailing…pleading.

  Desperate voices, scattered on a roaring wind.

  Worst of all, the pitiful screams of a terrified baby.

  Charlie snatched the headphones off and threw them on to the table, blinking rapidly. He gazed at Wei-Li, and their tears seemed to mingle into one across the room.

  thirteen

  Charlie knew the Witch was watching his every move. Watching, waiting. Plotting to destroy him. Sitting at the back of the little ferry as it chugged and bobbed through the water from Fowey on its way to Polruan, he knew she would be able to see him directly from her lair right at this moment.

  But the Witch wasn’t there.

  It was Sue.

  Sue sitting by the window, writing post cards. Sue greeting him with a cheery smile. Sue asking him if he enjoyed his sleepover.

  Somehow – Charlie didn’t know how – the Witch had gone. Forever.

  Even as he was waffling on about having a good time, making up some random stuff about playing computer games and listening to music, something was prompting him to tell her some or all of the truth. And then it dawned on him what that something was.

  She would understand.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘He’s popped to the store. We’ve run out of milk, and you know he can’t do without his giant mugs of tea! I’m so glad you’re getting on with your new friends…’

  ‘Actually…’ Charlie began hesitantly.

  She seemed to pick up that he had something on his mind, and put her pen down to give him her full attention.

  ‘Is everything all right, Chas?’

  ‘No – well, it is, but… I saw a ghost last night.’

  She didn’t laugh. She didn’t ask if he’d been up to no good. Her eyes were searching his to see if he was all right. Once he started, it all poured out; he told her everything and then watched anxiously for her reaction. She looked shocked. Well, maybe not shocked, but it certainly took her a minute or two to take it all in.

  ‘Charlie, it’s the kind of scary but exciting thing I wish had happened to me when I was your age, but this sounds like serious stuff and the sensible grown-up part of me is worried. You can understand that, can’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘But Wei-Li says these spirits need to be released – that’s what the FPI do. Although it was frightening, now, in a funny way, I don’t think it was dangerous. More sad than anything.’

  ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘We
still believe Henry Penhale is tied up in it in some way or knows something. We’re going to…er…investigate that a bit more, later today.’

  She gave a crooked smile. ‘I take it that the details of the plan are for FPI eyes only?’

  ‘Kind of. But it includes another ghostwatch tonight. Not midnight or anything, but after dark.’

  ‘I’m sure I can take it as read that you’ll be careful…’

  ‘Course!’

  ‘And that you’ll get out if anything dodgy starts to happen. And you’ll take your mobile and ring me if—’

  ‘Promise!’

  She relaxed a little. ‘Well, you might not share all of the FPI’s secrets with me, but speaking of Penhale I’ve got something to share with you.’

  On the table next to the post cards was a plum-coloured folder. She opened it and pulled out what looked like a photocopy of an old newspaper article.

  For Sale by Candle at Lloyd’s Coffee House in Lombard St, on Wednesday July 29th at twelve noon: Five Hogsheads of Madeira Wine of the most superior sort, twenty casks of fine French Brandy, all newly transported from the Continent and salvaged unspoilt from the foundered lugger Rosebud, Fowey.

  ‘Cornelius Penhale’s boat,’ Charlie commented. ‘What does sale by candle mean?’

  ‘It’s a type of auction. A bit like eBay, but instead of the computer counting down the time they lit a candle, and the bidding ended the second it burned itself out. But don’t you see the significance of it?’

  ‘Not really. They saved some booze – but it doesn’t mention anything about Cornelius Penhale or Isaac Trewin who had the gravestones made – or anyone.’

  ‘But the booze is the thing! Taxes on alcohol from abroad were sky-high then, which was why there was a lot of smuggling. It would have been worth an awful lot of money.’

  ‘Yes – Cornelius probably wanted to replace the Rosebud, so I suppose he needed it. But I still don’t see—’

  ‘The ship was heading for the rocks, where it was smashed to pieces – wooden barrels aren’t going to survive that. They had to have been unloaded before the boat went down.’

  Charlie felt himself turning pale. ‘Cornelius Penhale saved his precious wine and left the people to drown!’

  ‘I can’t think of any other explanation. What Trewin had to do with it, and why he was saved, I have no idea. Maybe that’s for the FPI to find out!’

  Charlie fell into a trance-like state as he tried to work out how it all fitted together, but Dad’s return cut it short.

  ‘I got us some more chocolate for this evening!’ he announced breezily.

  ‘Ah…’ began Sue. ‘Charlie’s going to be out again tonight…’

  Dad’s angular frame sagged a little. ‘Aww…’

  ‘But it’s not a sleepover,’ she added, giving Charlie a meaningful look. ‘He’ll be out for an hour or two with his new friends, then back here.’

  Charlie nodded eagerly.

  ‘What are you up to this time?’ Dad didn’t sound annoyed, just curious.

  ‘Astronomy,’ Sue blurted out. ‘They’ve got a telescope, and they’re going to identify some constellations.’

  ‘Sounds great! In fact, I wouldn’t mind tagging along—’

  ‘NOOO!’ Charlie and Sue cried in unison, then both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  ‘Well, I only asked…’ said Dad.

  ‘Sorry,’ Sue explained, ‘but it’s a well-known fact that dads aren’t allowed to go gate-crashing kids’ adventures – especially on holiday. Besides, it means more chocolates for us!’

  He shrugged. ‘Go and have your adventure – but I want a go of that telescope before we go home.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Charlie addressed them both, but he managed to give Sue the faintest hint of a conspiratorial smile.

  Charlie was more nervous about The Plan than he was about the ghostwatch.

  They had carefully worked it out and even rehearsed it before he’d left Treffry House that morning. It all seemed fine in theory, but the real thing would require nerve and split-second timing. He dreaded to think what might happen if The Plan went wrong. All he knew was he would be the one in trouble if it did.

  Heavy clouds scudded overhead on a stiff breeze, as if trying to race the ferry bringing Wei-Li and Mohan across. Every now and then Charlie felt tiny spots of rain on his face, but then it would blow over just as quickly. The faces of his two friends were taut and solemn when they greeted him.

  ‘Is he on his own?’ Mohan asked.

  ‘Yes – there’s no assistant working in the Beachcomber as far as I can see,’ Charlie informed them.

  ‘So we wait,’ said Wei-Li, settling down on a bench that provided a good view of the shop. ‘You take up your position, Charlie, and the second Henry Penhale goes into his store for something, I’ll put my hat on.’

  She opened her bag to show him a glimpse of the yellow baseball cap. With a quick dip of his head to show he understood, Charlie crossed the quay and sat on the low harbour wall outside the Lugger pub. He was close enough to be able to nip round the corner and up the steps to the Beachcomber’s storeroom in seconds, yet positioned so he couldn’t be seen by Penhale as he moved from one place to the other.

  It was a long wait. They had no idea when – or even if – Henry Penhale would need to go to his store. Charlie began to feel self-conscious, sitting in the same spot for so long. Eventually, fidgeting around on the concrete wall to get rid of ‘numb bum’ syndrome wasn’t enough, and he had to get up and walk around a bit – while making sure to keep an eye on Wei-Li and Mohan for the signal.

  But it never came. An hour passed, and Charlie could see Mohan, who in his boredom had been playing about with his phone, his music player and every other gadget he had with him, talking earnestly to Wei-Li. Charlie didn’t need Wei-Li’s psychic powers to know that he was fed up and wanted to either call it off or try a new plan. He decided to take matters into his own hands, and left his post to go over and discuss it with them.

  ‘Tell her this is ridiculous!’ Mohan said imploringly when Charlie arrived, no doubt hoping he would back him up. ‘We should have come up with a plan to get his storeroom unlocked then create a diversion. We could have just got Kev to unlock it!’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that!’ Wei-Li insisted. ‘We knew it could take a long time. That rug was taken from Rosebud Cottage for a reason. It could be the key to this whole business!’

  Charlie suddenly felt like a referee.

  ‘It’s nearly lunchtime anyway. Maybe we just ought to get a bite to eat and come back later. He goes into the storeroom more than once in a day, so even if we miss one time we’ll get him the next.’

  ‘Yes,’ parroted Mohan. ‘We ought to have a break and come back later.’

  Charlie could see Wei-Li knew she was out-voted.

  ‘Just a short break, then. But this is so important that I really think—’

  ‘Hang on…’ Mohan cut in, looking beyond her. ‘He’s out!’

  Charlie spun round, and there was little Henry Penhale with his snooty, upturned nose and thick glasses, today wearing a ridiculous pink jumper. He strode towards the steep steps leading up to the store as if he owned Polruan.

  As soon as he had his back to them, Wei-Li cried, ‘Back to your position and look for the signal, Charlie!’

  Charlie ran across the quay, passing within feet of Penhale as he went up the outside staircase, and disappeared round the corner. There were two phases of this plan where things could go very wrong, and the first one was coming up. It was frustrating not to be able to see it happening, but he knew that at this very moment Mohan would be approaching Henry Penhale and telling him there was an emergency in the shop. At the same time, Wei-Li would slip into Beachcomber and pretend to faint. But would Penhale believe Mohan, or might he simply stay put? If he did return to the shop, would he spot Wei-Li running in?

  Things moved fast now.

  Only seconds after he’d got back to his post,
he saw Wei-Li put her yellow hat on then immediately hurry out of sight towards the shop. Charlie made his move, and as soon as he turned the corner he saw Penhale huffing and puffing back to the Beachcomber. Mohan must have been convincing. He now took up a position where he could see both the shop and the storeroom, ready to phone Charlie if Penhale came back early. Without hesitating, Charlie ran up the steps two at a time. His heart sank when he saw the door was closed. Had Penhale locked it?

  To his relief, the handle turned freely. He quickly slipped in and closed the door behind him, fumbling in the darkness for a light switch. As he did so, he thought he heard a faint sound coming from somewhere inside the store and froze. But all was silent, and within seconds he’d found the switch. The sudden flood of bright light made him blink. He was surprised at how small the storeroom actually was – but at least there was no possibility of anyone else hiding in here, so the noise must have been in his imagination. Tall shelves lined both walls, and piles of boxes of crisps, confectionery and other stuff formed a row down the centre that was taller than Charlie. It was cramped and stuffy, barely room to move about, let alone hide a big heavy rug. Where could it be? He scanned the shelves, the gloomy corners of the room, and he was creeping towards the far end when his foot caught something.

  It was the edge of the rug, sticking out from the gap beneath the bottom shelf. Charlie dropped to his knees and pulled it out, and there was just enough room to unroll half of it. It just looked like an ordinary rug. Ancient and faded, but the kind of thing you’d see on the floor of any old house. There was some sort of swirling green pattern on a deep red background that just might contain a clue or even code, but there was no time to study it. All he could do was stick to the plan and take pictures on his phone to study later. He got a few images from the first half of the rug, then wrestled with the cumbersome thing so he could reveal the other. As he grunted and struggled, there was a sudden tearing sound and Charlie stopped, staring in horror at the gaping hole he’d made. His fingers hadn’t gone right through – it was just a rip in the backing of the rug, but a pretty obvious one that Henry Penhale was bound to see if he decided to look at the underside for any reason. Just how valuable was this thing, anyway?