till morning?’
‘I know that’s what you think you saw,’ Mum continued, ‘but I was standing right here and I couldn’t see anyone.’
‘He was here!’ I insisted. ‘He was right here! What, was I imagining him or something, is that what you’re saying?’
Mum didn’t speak, but her face said it all.
‘I dunno,’ Ameena shrugged. ‘I saw what happened to him up on the roof, and I don’t think that’s something you come back from. Even if you are an imaginary evil monster guy.’
I glanced between them, still amazed at what I was hearing, but fully aware I wasn’t going to win this argument. Not against both of them.
‘Fine,’ I scowled, ‘let’s all go back to bed. But if you both get murdered in your sleep, don’t come crying to me in the morning.’
* * *
I’m not sure how long I lay there on my bed, propped up against my pillows. An hour? Two? The world outside was still wrapped in darkness and morning felt like a long way away.
I hadn’t been able to relax since returning to my room. I was certain I’d seen Mr Mumbles, but the more time passed the more unbelievable that seemed. Mr Mumbles was dead. Very dead. You couldn’t get much deader. But I’d seen him.
Hadn’t I?
What if he hadn’t been there? Could it have been that I’d been dreaming somehow? Or hallucinating? The lack of sleep and the flashback of the breaking glass could have sent my imagination into overdrive. It was possible, I supposed. And Mum must’ve been there for at least a few seconds before she switched the light on, yet she hadn’t seen anyone in the room besides me.
I felt the muscles in my back relax a little. The headache that had been pulsing behind my eyes since I’d come back to bed eased off a few notches. Maybe Mum and Ameena were right. Maybe I was worrying about nothing. Nothing that a few hours of sleep wouldn’t fix, anyway.
A glance at my bedside clock told me it was barely after four. School had been closed for the past few days while investigators tried to work out how every pupil and teacher had managed to develop temporary amnesia at exactly the same time; so I could sleep on for as long as I wanted.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself a smile. I could still remember the looks of panicked confusion on the faces of the teachers and students as they ‘awoke’ to find themselves standing in my front garden. The police and the school inspectors and anyone else who fancied could investigate all they liked. There was no way they’d figure out the truth. It was just too weird. There was no way they’d ever find out about—
The soft giggle from the end of my bed seemed deafening in the silence. My childhood instincts screamed at me to pull the covers over my head and hide, while my more grown-up ones ordered me to sit up and face whatever was with me in my room.
In the end I came up with a compromise. I kicked off the covers and rolled out of bed, pushing myself into the corner of the room and as far from the source of the sound as possible.
A small, frail figure stood watching me from the gloom. Her flowing white dress was caked thick with dried blood. In her hands she clutched a dirty porcelain-faced rag doll. Raggy Maggie’s single eye bored into me as the girl waved one of the doll’s stubby arms up and down.
‘Peek-a-boo,’ sang Caddie. ‘I see you!’
Chapter Two OF MONSTERS PAST
Silence filled the room like a void. Caddie was still standing at the foot of my bed, still making the doll wave at me. Her dark eyes watched me, unblinking, but she made no attempt to move closer.
A thousand thoughts crashed together in my head. I reached out and plucked one at random.
‘How did you get here?’
She didn’t answer.
‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded – more loudly, but not loud enough to wake anyone up.
‘She doesn’t want to play with us any more,’ the girl spoke softly.
I hesitated, trying to figure out the meaning behind her words, if there even was one.
Caddie looked just like she’d done four days ago. The smear of lipstick was still a red blur across her lips. Her face was still a rainbow of badly applied eyeshadow and blusher and whatever other names they give to make-up. Beneath it all her skin was still as pale as bone, and her lifeless stare still gave me the willies.
‘Who doesn’t—’
‘Oh, you remembered,’ she said. Her face broke into a wide smile.
Again I paused. ‘Remembered what?’
‘She won’t play any more,’ Caddie said, apparently fighting back tears. ‘We were having so much fun, but then she just wouldn’t play.’
Confusion had taken over from terror now. I had no idea what the girl was talking about, although there was something about her words that seemed familiar.
‘S’not fair,’ she muttered. ‘Every time I find a new friend to play with they get broken.’
Broken. A circuit connected in my brain and I realised why I felt like I’d heard this before. I had heard it before. Caddie was repeating everything she’d said to me in the school canteen – the first time I’d seen her here in the real world. I remembered Mrs Milton, my head teacher, lying on the floor. Sobbing and babbling. And broken.
I ran back over the meeting in my head. If I could remember what she said next then I could prove to myself I was right. What was it she’d said? What had I said? Something about Billy.
‘Not telling,’ she spoke.
Of course, that was it.
‘I told you, silly, I’m not telling,’ I blurted out, as quickly as I could. She started to speak before I was half finished.
‘I told you, silly,’ she giggled. ‘I’m not telling!’
It was as if I was looking at a recording. Every word, every inflection of her voice was exactly like it had been in the school. Any second now she’d ask me if I wanted—
‘Tea?’ she enquired.
And now I thought about it I realised it wasn’t just Caddie. When Mr Mumbles appeared on Christmas Day I’d first seen him in front of the living-room window. He’d stood there, hat pulled down, coat swishing in the breeze, beady eyes boring holes in mine.
He’d looked exactly the same when I saw him again tonight. The same stance in the same position in the same room. It was as if my encounters with both him and Caddie were being somehow replayed or re-enacted.
I detached myself from the corner of the room and cautiously moved towards the bed. Caddie’s eyes followed me, but she made no other movement. She was still talking – telling me I’d get a cake if I was extra good – but I was no longer really listening.
The bedsprings squeaked when I stepped up on top of the mattress. It was impossible to walk around the bed without having to go through Caddie and her doll, but I could go over it and reach the door without having to pass too close to them.
I thudded down on to the other side of the bed. The closed bedroom door was just a few steps away now. My eyes remained locked with Caddie’s as I backed towards it, my hand searching for the handle.
‘Raggy Maggie likes sugar, don’t you, Raggy Maggie?’ was all she said as I slipped out on to the upstairs landing.
The door to Ameena’s room was directly across from mine. It used to be where Nan slept when she lived with us, but – apart from Christmas Day – it had been empty ever since she’d gone into the old folks’ home a few years back.
The door wasn’t fully shut. I nudged it open