Page 44 of The Forgotten Boy

“Yours is the only family I have had since I was ten years old,” Ismay said firmly. “I stand with York to the end.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DIANA

NOVEMBER 1918

After Clarissa’s shocking revelation about Thomas and the ghost boy, which left Diana gaping like a landed fish, someone knocked on her door and the telephone rang and the headmistress was swept away into a whirl of business.

Diana grabbed a cup of tea and two slices of toast from the dining room that was filled with unusually subdued boys before returning to her room. She fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of vague impressions of galloping horses and bloody banners.

She woke unrefreshed before noon, took a quick bath, and checked in on Jasper, who was sleeping much more peacefully than she had. Laudanum would do that.

Emerging from the infirmary, she found Joshua once more hovering in the corridor. When Diana saw how he was dressed—heavy trousers, chunky knit sweater, waterproof mackintosh and boots—she groaned aloud.

“I’m going to regret having just bathed, aren’t I?” she asked. “Where are we exploring now? Hopefully, by your coat, in the wide outdoors.”

“I thought we should take a look around the area where Granddad found Jasper. Whether a ghost or something else led the boy there, we should check it out.”

Diana couldn’t argue with that logic. And the thought of being in the open air beneath Northumberland’s skies appealed. Surely that would wipe away any lingering effects from the medieval solar this morning. It might also wipe her away, she realized, after ten minutes walking through a scouring wind that made it hard to breathe.

Joshua eyed her sideways. “Wishing you were back in London?”

“At least I don’t have to trip over a hundred people just to get where I’m going. Speaking of which, where exactly are we going?”

Joshua pointed to some feature of the landscape that Diana couldn’t distinguish. “Granddad walks the wall every day at sunrise—rain, shine, or blizzard. This morning he decided to check out the old icehouse, probably because he was telling you about it yesterday.”

Diana squinted as they got closer to what looked like just another jumble of rocks, trying to trace a design. “Old icehouse?” she asked skeptically.

“Medieval, actually. All of this land belonged to the priory of Havencross. The icehouse was built around 1300, but when it became a private house it was deemed too far away and something nearer was constructed.”

Diana studied the area doubtfully. “Jasper came this far? Alone and in the dark?”

“Certainly argues for a very persuasive ghost.”

“If your grandfather hadn’t come this way, it might have been another hour or so before he found him. With this wind—” Diana shook her head. “We’ve got to put a stop to this, Joshua. Or someone’s going to die.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here.”

At Joshua’s insistence, when the first pass of roughly twenty-five feet in diameter revealed nothing of note, they examined it again on their hands and knees. Diana wondered if he had a magnifying glass in his pocket, planning to whip it out like Sherlock Holmes if he found a clue.

She wasn’t finding clues. She wasn’t finding anything except heather, dying thistles, and sharp stones. Diana sat back on her heels and stretched. The ache of exhaustion had settled behind her eyes, and she blinked away the collection of dark spots that danced before her.

Instead of disappearing, the spots coalesced into an opening between two of the stones precariously stacked on the old icehouse foundation. Diana couldn’t have said what caught her attention. Perhaps its angle? Gingerly, she worked one hand into the opening and pulled at the top stone.

It came out all of a sudden, knocking her off-balance and alerting Joshua.

“Found something?”

“I don’t know. Probably just some animal burrowed into the ground here.” But even she, London born and bred, could tell very quickly that this opening hadn’t been made by animals.

After half an hour of concentrated work, they had moved enough stones—and used some of the sharper ones to dig into looser soil—to uncover an opening that was at least three feet across with inlaid brickwork around its edge.

“The outlet of a secret tunnel.” Diana sighed. “I knew I was coming to the edge of the known world up here, but I didn’t expect to be transported to an adventure novel.”

“Priories, convents, and monasteries were wealthy places—some of them, anyway,” Joshua said, repeating his grandfather’s words. “They always had to keep in mind the threat of soldiers and marauders. It might even have served simply to hide portable wealth.”

“Whatever its original intent, it’s definitely the kind of thing that appeals to boys. Do you think—is there any chance this is what happened to Thomas?”

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