‘There was that storm a couple of days back,’ said the man, thoughtfully. ‘Lightning can give an electrical charge to metal, so old plumbing can sometimes be vulnerable. It doesn’t happen much nowadays, but in a house of this age … It’s just about possible the lightning caused a small fire up there, and the fire smouldered for a couple of days. At the moment that’s the best solution I can see. But we’ll send a report to you. Everyone else all right? We can call the paramedics to get you checked out if need be?’
He glanced at Michael and Nell, and Michael said, ‘No need for paramedics. I’m fine, thanks, and I’m very grateful to be safely outside. Thanks very much – to all of you.’
‘All part of the service, sir,’ said the man, who then sketched a mock salute, and went off to the waiting fire engine.
Michael said to Jack Hurst, ‘I didn’t realize you owned the place.’
‘Yes. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this.’
‘I’m sorry about the house. I escaped unscathed, but it doesn’t look as if Deadlight Hall has.’ He glanced at the drenched facade.
‘Oh, don’t be sorry about the house,’ said Hurst. ‘This is the final straw if I’m honest. I’m abandoning the whole project.’
‘You are?’
‘I scraped and scrimped to buy this ugly old pile,’ he said, staring up at it. ‘I was sentimental about it, see. There’s some connection to an ancestor of mine – bit of a wild boy from all the family stories. They vary a bit, those tales – some say he owned the place, some say he only lived in it, or that he used it for his bastards. Some versions even say he was part of some sort of murder scandal, about a century and a half ago. I don’t know the truth and it’s all a long time ago anyway, but I always felt an attachment to the place, and we’re an acquisitive lot, us Hursts. Buying it became a bit of an ambition for me. I worked and saved, and worked some more, until I managed it. I got it for a song, and I thought I could make money out of turning it into posh apartments. Bad idea and very bad decision. It’s an unlucky house – and it’s not often you hear a builder say that. But there’ve been a few bad incidents there over the years – probably all hearsay again, but people have long memories.’
‘What will you do with it?’ asked Michael.
‘Demolish it,’ said Jack Hurst at once. ‘Raze it to the ground and crunch it all up beneath the diggers and the bulldozers.’
‘And then?’
‘Develop the land,’ he said, with a sudden grin. ‘Standing here, I’ve been thinking. I reckon I’d get half a dozen luxury bungalows on this site, each with a third of an acre of ground. And very nice too. You might like to take a look when they’re done.’
‘We might indeed,’ said Michael.
As they walked over to their cars, Nell suddenly said, ‘Michael – I think there’s someone over there – in that bit of garden on the left.’
Michael looked to where she indicated. ‘I can’t see anything. Probably the firefighters are still around.’
‘It isn’t the firefighters,’ said Nell. ‘They’re all round the vehicle, packing up their equipment. Whatever I saw was blurred, like one of those photographs when someone’s moved as the shutters clicked, so I can’t be sure I saw anything at all. It might only have been the trees moving in the wind.’
‘Let’s walk to the side of the house and see. We’ll have to wait for the fire engine to move anyway before we can get the cars out.’
The house cast dense shadows on this side, but there was still an overspill from the fire engine’s lights, and it was possible to see that tall weeds grew up between the cracks of what might once have been a terrace. There was the outline of what had been a large lawn on two levels, with moss-covered steps between the two, and a cracked sundial, covered with lichen. On a bright summer’s afternoon, with cheerful voices, this could have been a lively, happy place. A family place, where children would have run free and enjoyed playing.
Children.
The two figures were indistinct – so much so that they could have been scribbled on the darkness by a child’s pencil. It was not entirely certain if they were even there.