He had not meant to go into the Hall, but it seemed to call to him. All the time he was looking for the heron he could almost feel the house pulling him. Perhaps he should let it. People said you could get rid of a nightmare by looking it in the face, and at home there had been a very old man, a rabbi and a scholar, who had told the children that you could drive out evil spirits by confronting them. You simply had to hold fast to your courage and your faith.
Leo did not think he had very much courage, but in this bright, clean, sunshiney morning, he thought he might have just about enough to look his nightmare in the face. He walked across the overgrown grass, and up the steps to the double doors. As he grasped the handle he was whispering a plea that the doors would be locked, but they were not, and they swung inwards with only a small protest.
The scent of damp and age and despair came out, and the bad memories swirled up, like a cloud of rancid flies. He flinched and almost turned back, but having got this far he must at least step inside. And once inside, it was not so bad. He did not remember much about the main part of the Hall – he supposed he had been too ill that night – and he looked around with curiosity. The schoolhouse at home had had an entrance a little like this – not as large, but there had been the same kind of floor, and the same wide shallow stairs leading to the upper floors. There was the door that led down to the furnace room. Someone had propped it open, and he could see the stone steps.
As he hesitated, trying to make up his mind to go through the door, something glimmered in the darkness beyond it. Something that was small and pale, and something that had long chestnut hair … As Leo stared, caught between fear and fascination, the outline half-turned, and he saw that a second figure, almost identical, stood there as well. Hands, small, soft, fragile, came up and beckoned to him.
There are moments in life when what you most want in all the world suddenly seems within your grasp, and logic deserts you. In that moment, Leo was aware only of a surge of delight. Sophie and Susannah! he thought, and went eagerly into the dark corridor and down the flight of stairs.
At first he could see them clearly, but as he plunged through the dimness, they seemed to recede and several times their outlines blurred. Then they were there again, moving away from him. Sophie turned and beckoned once more, and Leo went forward eagerly. This was where he had come that night, struggling against the pain in his head, fighting the fever and nausea.
Expecting at any minute to see the twins, he went on, towards the row of doors he remembered. He was level with the third door, when he realized that footsteps were coming into the corridor behind him, from the main hall. He stopped and looked back. Had someone followed him in? Perhaps it was almost twelve o’clock and Mr Hurst had come to look for him.
And then cold horror washed over him, because a soft voice came out of the dimness.
‘Children, where are you?’
It was the thick, breathy whisper Leo had heard all those years ago. It was with him, here in this narrow passageway. As he tried frantically to think what to do, a figure appeared in the corridor. It was indistinct in the uncertain light, but Leo could see that it was small and hunched over, as if the person was deformed. To walk towards it was unthinkable, so Leo turned and plunged towards the furnace room. Towards Sophie and Susannah, said his mind. They would be waiting for him. ‘We’ll always be linked,’ they had said on the night they had left Warsaw. ‘We’ll always know if you’re not all right, or if you’re in trouble.’
But that was six years ago, said Leo’s mind. They vanished six years ago; they can’t still be here, looking exactly the same, they can’t.
The words reached him again.
‘Children, are you here? I’ll find you wherever you are …’
And underlying the words, as if tapping out a rhythm, was a clicking. Machinery, thought Leo, and his mind looped back over the years. Old machinery starting up.
The furnace room was only a few yards away now. If he could get in there, he could slam the door against that horrid whispering figure. The iron door was closed, but a faint glimmer of light showed through the thick round window.