Chapters 16 and 17: Phantom of the Hastings Caves

Chapter 16   His fingers touched the cold hand

Dave’s dad was  just about to go upstairs to bed when Dave came down into the hall holding his folded white stick.

“Dave? Are you off out?” his dad asked.

“Yes, I’m just going to Jack’s house.”

“Is Jack all right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the first anniversary of Jack’s mum’s death soon, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It can’t be easy for him,” said Dave’s dad. “Have you got your key to get back in, Dave?”

“Yes. ’Night, Dad.”

Dave tapped his stick against the garden walls as he made his way down the road to Jack’s house.

Jack was waiting outside the front door.

“We’ll go round the side of the house,” he said. “I don’t want to disturb Dad.”

Dave followed Jack round the side of the house, down the steps to the back garden and into the cellar. Jack unlocked the cellar door.

“Bend your head, Dave,” said Jack. “The ceiling’s low.”

They bent their heads and went in. Jack switched his torch on.

“Put your hands on my shoulders if you want, Dave,” Jack said.

Dave folded up his stick and put it in his jacket pocket. He felt for Jack’s shoulders and put his hands on them. Jack led him through the narrow central aisle of the cellar to the back wall.

“Right, here’s the hole in the wall,” said Jack. “You go first.”

Jack guided Dave to a wooden box under the hole in the back wall of the cellar. Dave got onto the box and felt for the hole. He squeezed through it. He landed on the floor of the hidden passageway that led to the caves.

Jack followed him.

They stood up and brushed the sand from the wall off their clothes and hair.

They walked along the passageway until they reached the steps that led down to the caves. 

“You do know this is mad, don’t you?” Jack said as they went down the steps and through the hole in the sandstone wall into the Midnight Landing area of the Smugglers Adventure. Jack flicked a switch in the wall and the Midnight Landing area was bathed in dim light.

“OK, it’s a bit mad,” said Dave as they crawled out from behind the boat and straightened up. “But she could die in here all alone.”

“Ghosts don’t ... sorry, she could, yes ... hey, Dave, the waxworks look a bit creepy at night,” said Jack.

“Have you put the lights on?”

“Yes. But they’re only dim. There’s a blue light around the boat and an orange light around the waxwork holding the lantern.”

“Oh, right.” Dave felt along the boat in the display. His fingers touched the cold hand of the waxwork smuggler sitting in the boat.

“Jack?” he said.

Jack didn’t answer.

“Jack. Are you still here?”

“Yes, sorry. When I saw you touch that waxwork’s hand, I remembered last year.  Dad and I went to see Mum’s body in her coffin the day before her funeral. I touched her hands. They didn’t feel like they’d felt when she was alive. I told Steve about it and then he told me about how his parents left him locked in the flat for three days when they went out and took a lot of drugs. ... Dave? What’s wrong?”

Dave had grabbed Jack’s arm and put a finger to his lips.

“Did you hear her?” he whispered. “She just swished past.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Look around. She swished past us. She must be wearing the dress. Maybe she’s washed the trousers and top in the sink in the staffroom. … Can you see anything?”

“Nothing,” said Jack. “Do you want to look around?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

Jack yawned and followed Dave through the caves and up the Monks’ Walk.

“Do you think she came this way?” Jack whispered when Dave stopped at the ticket desk.

“Possibly,” whispered Dave. 

“Dave, listen to me. We don’t know whether she’s a ghost or not. But we know that she doesn’t want to be found,” whispered Jack. 

“Switch off your torch,” said Dave . “It might frighten her. Let’s stay still and quiet for a while ... ”

“OK,” said Jack. “But five minutes, that’s all. Then we’re going home.”

He switched off the torch and they stood near the entrance door in the darkness.

Then Jack heard a man’s voice coming from the other side of the door.

“Liridona... Liridona...”

Chapter 17   He drew a finger across his throat

Joy got off the train from Brighton at 12.50am. She walked sleepily towards the gates at Hastings Station. She was surprised to find the ticket man still on duty.

“Hello, how are you?” he said.

He recognized Joy because she travelled quite regularly on the Brighton to Hastings trains.

“I’m a bit tired,” said Joy. She fumbled for her ticket. When she found it at the bottom of her pocket, it was too crumpled to go in the machine. She handed it to the man.

“You don’t usually work this late,” she said.

“I do now. There have been too many fare dodgers recently. When they try to get through without paying, I do this.” He drew a finger across his throat.

“Oh, are you from Albania?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“A taxi driver from Albania did the same thing. When we were talking about thieves, he drew his finger across his throat.”

“Are you getting a taxi home now?”

“Yes, I will if there is one.”

The man smiled. “Your friend the Albanian taxi driver is outside,” he said. “He’s a friend of mine, too. He just dropped someone off here.”

“Thanks,” said Joy.  She went out to the taxi rank.

The Albanian taxi driver was about to drive off when he saw her coming towards his taxi. He opened his window.

“Collier Road?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said.

When Joy was settled in the seat beside him, the taxi driver said, “You’re out late.”

“Yes, I had some work to do in Brighton.”

“That’s a long way to go to work at night.”

“Yes, but I had to,” said Joy. “How are you, anyway?”

“I’m OK. I miss my country, but I’m OK.”

Joy was glad he hadn’t asked what kind of work she had been doing. Comforting traumatized children for Social Services was confidential work.

“But you’ve got Albanian friends here,” she said. “The ticket man...”

“Yes, he’s my friend. He’s a good man. People from my country are the same as people everywhere. Good and bad ... but he is good. I have some good friends from my country here.”

They drove in silence. Joy was too sleepy to talk much.

Then the driver said, “Here we are. Number 27.”

“You remembered,” said Joy. She looked at the meter and handed him a five-pound note.

“Of course I remembered. How is your head now?”

“Fine, thanks. But I wish they would catch the burglar. The woman who pushed me over.”

“If you see her any time, call my taxi firm and ask for Fred. My real name is Ferdinand, but everyone calls me Fred. I will help you chase her.”

He handed her a company card as she got out of the taxi.

“Thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said as he closed the car door and drove off.

She stood under the light of the lamppost for a moment while she fumbled in her pocket for her door keys.

She didn’t see Enver watching her from the shadows.