Peter James: The House on Cold Hill

She was feeling lonely. On weekends in Brighton she would have walked round to Phoebe, Olivia or Lara’s house, or they would have come round to her, and made music videos together, or she’d have seen Ruari. Right now her parents, and her gran and gramps, were flat-out downstairs, busy unpacking boxes and getting the house in some kind of order — at least, the rooms they could live in for now, until the builders and decorators had got the house straight. Which was going to take months. Years. Forever.

The large window looked past the row of garages, over the vast rear garden and the lake, a couple of hundred yards in the distance, to the paddock, and the steep rise of the hill beyond. Her mother had told her the paddock would be perfect for the pony she had always hankered after. That brightened her a little, although she was keener at this moment on a labradoodle puppy. She’d spent a lot of time googling dog rescue centres and labradoodle breeders, and looking up all sorts of possible alternatives on Dogs 101. So far she’d found no rescue places or breeders in their area with any puppies, but there was one breeder about an hour away who was expecting a litter soon.

It was coming up to eight o’clock. No doubt one of her parents would be up soon to tell her ‘no more screen time’ and to get ready for bed. She went over to her dressing table, picked up her phone, and for some moments gazed wistfully at a video clip of Ruari, with his sharp hairstyle, nodding his head and grinning to a piece of music. Then she dialled Phoebe on her FaceTime app.

It was still light outside, despite the dark clouds and the rain, which had not relented throughout the weekend, pattering against the rattling window in front of her. ‘Uptown Funk’ was playing again at full blast. That was another plus about this new house — her room was at the far end of the first floor, with empty rooms between, so she could play her music as loudly as she liked without her parents coming in to tell her to turn it down. Mostly in their previous home she’d had to resort to wearing her headphones. At this moment she didn’t even know where the headphones were. Buried somewhere in one of the four huge boxes of her stuff that she had still not yet unpacked.

Beep, beep, beep.

The phone went dead.

‘Come on, come on!’ The internet connection here was rubbish. Her dad had promised to get it sorted tomorrow, but he was so useless at dealing with things it would probably take a week, knowing him. They were all going to have to change phone providers. God, it wasn’t like they were in the back of beyond or anything — they were only ten miles from Brighton. But at this moment, they might as well have been on the moon!

She tried again. Then, dialling for the third time, she suddenly saw Phoebe’s face filling the screen, blonde hair hanging over her forehead, and her own face in a small square in the corner.

Her friend, grinning and chewing gum, said, ‘Hey, Jade!’

Then she lost the signal, and Phoebe with it. ‘Come on, come on, come on!’ she shouted at the screen, and redialled. Moments later she was reconnected.

‘Sorry about that, Phebes!’

‘You OK?’

‘I am so not OK! I miss you tons!’

‘Me you, Jade! Mum’s in a shit mood with Dad, and taking it out on me. And all the gerbils escaped. It’s, like, not been a great day. Mungo was running around with my favourite, Julius, in her mouth, with his legs wriggling, then she shot off down the garden.’

‘Did she kill him?’

‘Dad buried him — what was left of him. I hate that cat!’

‘No! Did you get the rest of them back?’

‘They were all under the sofa in the sitting room, huddled together, looking terrified. Why would they want to escape? They had everything they needed — food, water, toys.’

‘Maybe they don’t like the weather and decided to go south for a holiday?’

Phoebe laughed. Then she said, ‘“Uptown Funk”! Turn it up!’

‘OK.’

‘What do you think — I’ve bought the latest Now CD for Lara for her birthday?’

‘Does she still have a CD player, Phebes?’

There was a long silence. Then a defensive, ‘She must have.’

‘I don’t think we have one any more.’

‘Whatever. When are you coming over?’

‘I have to negotiate an exit from here with the Cold Hill House Escape Committee. But my parents say I can have a birthday party here. Three weeks’ time! I’m going to have a retro photo booth with Polaroid cameras! And we’re going to have pizzas — everyone can order them and Dad said he’d collect them.’

‘Epic! But that’s three weeks, can I come over and see your place before then?’

‘Yes. I’ve got a great room — the biggest bath you’ve ever seen. You can almost swim in it! Can you come the weekend after next? Sleepover Saturday night? Ruari said his mum’s going to drive him over on the Sunday.’

‘Maybe we can have a swim in your pool, if it’s nice?’

‘I’ll have to get Dad to remove the dead frogs first. And fill it and heat it. That is so not going to happen.’

‘Yech!’ Then suddenly Phoebe’s voice changed. ‘Hey, Jade, who’s that?’

‘Who’s what?’

‘That woman!’

‘Woman? What woman?’

‘Er, the one right behind you? Hello!’

Jade spun round. There was no one. She turned back to the phone. ‘What woman?’

Then her phone screen went blank. Annoyed, she redialled. She heard the sound of the connection being made, and then Phoebe’s face reappeared.

‘What did you mean, Phebes? What woman?’

‘I can’t see her now, she’s gone. She was standing behind you, by the door.’

‘There wasn’t anyone!’

‘I saw her!’

Jade crossed over to the door, opened it and looked out onto the landing. She held up her phone, pointing it down the landing so Phoebe could see, then she closed the door behind her, walked back across the room and sat down again. ‘There’s no one been in, Phoebe, I’d have heard them.’

‘There was, I saw her clearly,’ her friend insisted. ‘I’m not making it up, Jade, honestly!’

Jade shuddered, feeling cold suddenly. She turned round again and stared at the closed door. ‘What — what did you see?’

‘She was, like, an old lady, in a blue dress. She had a really mean look on her face. Who is she?’

‘The only old lady here’s my Gran. She’s here with Gramps, helping unpack stuff downstairs.’ Jade shrugged. ‘They’re both a bit weird.’

Twenty minutes later, when she had ended the conversation, Jade went downstairs. Her parents were sitting at the refectory table in the kitchen, piles of unopened boxes still on the floor around them, drinking red wine, with the bottle on the table in front of them as they opened all the ‘Good Luck In Your New Home’ cards sent by friends and relatives. Sapphire was crunching dry food in a bowl close to the Aga.

‘Hi, darling,’ her mother said. ‘Are you ready for tomorrow?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Time for bed. Big day — your new school!’

Jade stared at her glumly. She was thinking about all her time at school in Brighton. She had loved being in charge of the School Walking Bus. Making the phone calls every morning, starting off with one friend, collecting another, then another, so by the time they arrived at school there were ten of them altogether. Now the rest of them would be doing this tomorrow, without her. She would be going instead to bloody St Paul’s Catholic College in Burgess Hill. Nowheresville .

And they didn’t even go to church regularly!

‘Where are Gran and Gramps?’ she asked.

‘They went home a short while ago, darling,’ her mother responded. ‘Gramps was very tired. They said to say goodbye and give you their love.’