Page 20 of Curse of the Stag's Eye
Michael winced when Gaz grabbed his outstretched hand. I think he was squeezing it harder than he needed to. Probably from excitement. I might have a been a little disappointed that those two were hitting it off but I was prepared to stand back and not get in their way, if I had to.
“Now, I want everyone to imagine a circle of white light around us.” I closed my eyes as I spoke, taking very deepbreaths. “The only things that can cross over the circle are those who do so with love.”
Nikesh was positively brimming with excitement. His shoulders wiggled and he grinned from ear to ear.
“Go on,” I said. “Call out to him.”
Dawn closed her eyes. “We want to speak to Howard Baines. Keeper of Stag’s Head Lighthouse.”
Only the faint crashing of waves broke the baneful silence.
She spoke more loudly. “Can Howard Baines hear my voice?”
“Listen.” I dropped to a whisper. “Can you hear that?”
From downstairs came the plodding of heavy footsteps, this time accompanied by a faint murmur of voices.
Gaz, facing the door, flinched but I warned him not to break the circle. “What’s that buzzing?” he asked.
I said nothing but all eyes were on me. I swallowed hard. “I don’t hear anything.”
“I hear it too,” Michael said. “Like a repetitive whirr.”
Gaz broke his grip and pointed at me. “There’s something buzzing in your pocket. It’s your phone, isn’t it?”
I sighed and let go of Nikesh’s hand. From my coat pocket, I pulled my iPhone.
“You said it was in your bag and switched off.” Gaz wrenched it from me. “You have a text message reminding you to register the warranty on your new Bluetooth speakers, I bloody knew it.” He slammed my phone down on the table.
My mouth ran dry as a bone.
“Where are they?” Gaz slid off the bench, pushed past me, and flung every cupboard door open, one by one. He checked every box on the shelves, pulled out every drawer. He stooped to open the cupboard beneath the little sink and reached in behind the pipes. He drew out a cheap speaker and threw it to me.
I caught it, glad he hadn’t thrown itatme.
“Let’s just calm down,” Michael said. “I’m sure Rhys has a good explanation.”
Nikesh grinned at everyone. “I don’t get it.”
Gaz threw his hands in the air. “He’s faked the whole thing! The footsteps, the voices, all of it!” He turned his back to me. “He’s rigged it all up. And you’re in on it too, I bet.” He held a finger at Michael.
“He doesn’t know anything about it.” Every inch of my skin clenched. “And I didn’t fake everything. Alright, yes, I rigged up a couple of things, just to, you know, get the ball rolling, to get everyone into the right frame of mind.”
“Oh, Rhys.” Dawn slumped back in her chair.
My armpits turned to swamps. “The knocking in the museum was my doing, and the footsteps we heard when we were in the first bedroom, but everything else that’s happened was real, I swear.”
“This is why you’ve been banging on about your precious schedule all night.” Gaz wasn’t really listening. “What, it’s all on a timer, is it?”
Sweat gathered behind my ears. “Some of it was, yes. But I’ve stopped it all now.”
Dawn turned to Michael. “Oi, were you the face in the window at the coal shed? And the footsteps on the gravel outside the museum, when Gaz left us?”
“All him,” Gaz said.
Michael snarled at him. “I’d be careful about throwing around accusations. Slander is a serious offence.”
“No, wait, no. That all happened before Michael arrived.”
