“Wee awa.”
All my thoughts of ghosts came back to me. Then I realized that the sound was coming from under the bed. I crept toward it and lifted the comforter that was about to fall to the floor. Looking back at me was the face I had seen in the window, the face I had seen on the portrait in town. Her big eyes were staring at me in pure terror and I noticed that they were not bright blue, as in the portrait, but were greenish brown. I also realized, of course, that she was not four years old, but a girl of eleven or twelve with long light-brown hair. The hair was still plastered to her forehead the way it would be if she had been out in a rainstorm and had not dried or brushed since. She was still wearing a white nightgown but I couldn’t tell whether that had dried on her or was a fresh one. After her initial frozen shock the girl was now looking around like a trapped animal for a way of escape.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” I said gently. “I’m a friend.”
She stared at me, silent, unblinking.
“I saw you dancing in the rain,” I said, smiling at her. “That must have been fun. And you put a flower in my hair when I was asleep, didn’t you?”
She was staring at me, unblinking, not giving any sign as to whether she heard and understood what I was saying or not.
“Are you Colleen?” I asked.
Still she didn’t reply or move.
“Colleen?” I asked again.
A tentative smile crossed her face. She picked up a big rag doll with yellow hair that had been lying on the floor beside her. “Coween,” she said.
I was confused. “The doll’s name is Colleen?” I asked. “Or your name?”
It was her turn to look confused now, her eyes darting, ready for flight. “Coween,” she said again, holding the doll close to her now.
“And what’s your name then?”
She was starting to inch away from me. I could tell she wanted to get out from under the bed so that she had room to escape. Suddenly I saw her eyes shift from me and open wide in terror.
Mrs. McCreedy stood behind me and in her hand was a knife.
Twenty-six
“I knew I couldn’t trust you from the very beginning,” she said in a threatening voice. “You with your poking and prying where you’ve no right to be. Well, I hope you’re satisfied now because you’ve just condemned her to death.”
I scrambled to my feet, standing in front of the child to protect her. All kinds of thoughts were whirling through my brain. Colleen had never died at all. This crazy woman had kept her hidden away and captive all this time. The child on the floor whimpered and attempted to crawl away.
“It’s all right, Kathleen, love,” she said gently. “You’ll be safe, don’t worry.”
“Kathleen?” I frowned. “Not Colleen?”
“Coween.” The child scrambled under the bed to pick up the doll and then backed into a corner.
“I’m not going to harm her,” I said. “I saw her outside running around in the storm last night and I had to find out who she was.”
“Outside? Don’t tell me she’s managed to get out again, has she? I wonder how on earth she did it this time.”
“She opened the window halfway down the stair and she climbed down the ivy. I followed her route. That was how I got in.”
“But I leave the door locked.”
“Somehow she managed to open it,” I said.
Mrs. McCreedy shook her head. “She used to be such a docile little thing. She’d play happily with her toys and eat her food and that was that. But recently she’s grown restless. I found she’d got out once before but I thought we’d taken care of that.”
“I think she’s been outside several times while I’ve been here,” I said. “The two boys reported seeing a ghost, and I was asleep in a lawn chair when I heard singing in a strange language and awoke to find a flower in my hair.”
“I told the master it wasn’t going to work much longer and we’d have to decide what to do with her,” she said. “Is that why he brought you here? He wanted to show her to you and see what you’d recommend?”
“Mrs. McCreedy, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “And please put away that knife. I’m not a threat to anybody. I don’t know why Mr. Hannan invited Daniel and myself here and I don’t know who this child is or anything about her.”
She looked down at the girl who was now sitting on the floor, hugging the doll to her, humming to herself as she rocked back and forth.
“Go back to your playing, Kathleen. Everything is all right. You can tell Colleen everything is all right.”
Then she took my arm none too gently, her fingers digging into my flesh, and led me across the room and into the little scullery area, closing the door behind us.