‘Leave him,’ Veronica said. ‘He won’t even notice.’
They filed down the corridor towards the front door and Grace followed them. Outside, Veronica gave Steve the whisky bottle and the coal, and Meredith gave him a loaf of bread and a pot of salt. She looked at the others. ‘We still need a coin.’
Dan held out a coin, his stance, hand on hip, clearly indicating his contempt for the proceedings. Steve juggled the other items in his arms to receive it. Then they gathered around, and Claire looked at her watch and counted down the seconds.
‘Three … two … one … Happy New Year, everyone!’
Grace had expected lots of hugging and kissing, as would have happened in her family, but instead, after a few choruses of ‘Happy New Year’, Dan piped up, ‘All right then, back inside – hurry up, Steve, it’s bloody freezing.’
Steve walked towards the front door, twisted the handle and pushed, but nothing happened.
‘It’s locked,’ he said. He put the items in his arms on the ground, and tried it again, first with one hand and then with both, rattling it.
‘Let me see.’ Meredith sounded annoyed. She shook the handle, but it didn’t budge.
Grace began to shiver. Please get the bloody door open, she prayed.
Then she heard a long, piercing scream.
At first she thought it was one of Jack’s screeching owls, but as it came again, she registered the familiar pitch of it.
‘That’s Millie,’ she shouted, charging towards the door. ‘Get the bloody door open NOW!’
Grace barged in front of Meredith, grasped the door handle and shook it hard, but it wouldn’t budge. She looked at it in a panic, mind and heart galloping together.
A hand grasped her arm and she instinctively shook it off. ‘Grace,’ Claire shouted, ‘this way, come on.’
They charged along the side of the house to the back, flinging the door open. Grace raced through the dimly lit kitchen, into the corridor towards the lounge. When she reached the room, she paused in horror.
In the muted light, a shadowy figure stooped over Millie’s pushchair. As he straightened, Grace saw that it was Feathery Jack, and he held Millie in his arms. Millie’s small face was panic-stricken. Grace rushed across and snatched her daughter.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she demanded, fright becoming fury in an instant.
Jack appeared confused as he looked from Grace to Claire. ‘Ah heard the bairn skrikin’,’ he said.
Millie began to cry hysterically and Grace tried to shush her. She whirled around, her only aim to get away from this house, but her escape route was blocked by a crowd of worried faces.
‘What happened?’ Veronica was asking.
‘She must have had a nightmare or something,’ Claire said.
Grace could feel all their eyes fixed on her, burning into her, bringing her close to screaming herself.
‘Poor little mite,’ Liza murmured. ‘Will she be all right, Grace?’
‘She’ll be fine,’ Grace replied through clenched teeth, ‘but I think I’ll take her home.’
She walked across to try to put Millie back in the pushchair, but Millie clung tight and sobbed harder. Grace attempted to soothe her, rocking her gently back and forth.
‘Bit of a bad omen, that, isn’t it, us all sprinting round the back,’ Dan commented. ‘I think you were the last-footer, Steve, not the first,’ he chuckled.
‘Rubbish,’ Meredith said. ‘This’ll be Timmy, up to a bit of mischief, no doubt.’
Grace’s blood ran cold at the idea of a ghost child in here alone with her daughter on the stroke of midnight, while she stood locked outside with this strange family. A spike of fear shot through her. ‘I need to take Millie home,’ she said. ‘Now.’ Her voice came out low and strange. ‘Let me out.’
No one moved, everyone just kept staring, but then Claire’s kind face appeared in front of her. She held Grace’s arms as she said gently, ‘I’ll walk you home.’
‘Can you take the pushchair?’ Grace asked, and then headed towards the door, holding a shrieking Millie tightly to her. Everyone parted to let her through, but no one said a word. She avoided their eyes, making her way quickly outside and onto the road. The cold hit her like a blow as the darkness enveloped her, and she hurried down the hill. The light was on in the pub, and she used that as a guide. They were almost at the cottage when she heard footsteps behind them.
‘Is Millie all right?’ Claire asked breathlessly as she caught up.