Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) by David Gatward (english reading book TXT) 📗

it? It was Beverley, but also not, and that thought made no sense to him at all.

‘Helen, are you there?’

Beverley’s voice was back to normal now and Anthony figured he’d just been hearing things that weren’t really there. Which was a relief.

‘This is a safe place, Helen,’ Beverley continued. ‘A place of love, of family.’

Was the room getting warm? Anthony thought. Or was he making that up as well? It was entirely possible. But he did feel warmer, he was sure of it.

‘Helen . . .’

Another tap, then another, and another, coming from the window, and whatever warmth Anthony had just been feeling disappeared in an instant as a raking shiver drove itself up his spine, goosebumps sending his skin into an uncanny tingle.

‘I’m going to have a look,’ Dan said.

‘No!’ Beverley shouted. ‘Do not break the circle!’

‘Don’t you dare move!’ shouted James, and Anthony noticed that desperation again in his grandad’s voice for whatever it was they were doing to actually work.

Dan didn’t move and Anthony was relieved that his uncle had decided to listen to his granddad. It was because of him they were doing any of this after all, wasn’t it? But that was something he’d always noticed about his uncle and aunt, and that was how they really did seem to think that world revolved around them.

‘It’s probably just a bird,’ Anthony said, attempting to help keep Dan sitting down. ‘They tap at the windows sometimes, eating bugs and stuff.’

‘I guess so,’ Dan said.

‘You okay, Mum?’ Anthony asked, and unable to stop himself, he quickly peeked over the table and saw her, eyes closed, face just a little white.

‘Yes, I’m fine, Love,’ she replied.

Anthony snapped his eyes shut again and tried to go back to focusing on Nana. It was sad, what had happened, and she had been really awesome, young, too, but he didn’t feel as sad as everyone else. He wasn’t really sure why. It certainly wasn’t that he hadn’t loved her. How could he not have? Her biscuits were amazing and she would always give him a little bit too much money for his birthday, wouldn’t she, on top of what Granddad gave him?

‘Oh my God, she’s here . . .’

Beverley’s voice sounded surprised and the words sent another shiver through Anthony. Was this for real? He’d seen more than enough TV shows about hunting ghosts to know just how much of it was total bollocks. But now that he was in the middle of what he’d seen on the screen, he wasn’t so sure. It certainly felt real, didn’t it? But what did that actually even mean? Weren’t they all just sitting together with their eyes closed thinking about a dead person? Do that, and any sound, any sensation, would be twisted by the imagination into something it wasn’t, right?

When Beverley spoke again, her voice was softer, Anthony thought, distant almost, like it was coming from outside of the room.

‘Where . . . am . . . I . . .’

‘Helen?’

Anthony heard the emotion in his granddad’s voice as he said Nana’s name.

‘Helen, it’s me, James. Is that you? Are you there? I miss you.’

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Patricia said, her voice hard, and Anthony heard his aunt getting to her feet.

The next tap at the window was rapid, a rat-tat-ta-tat-tat, again and again and again, and Anthony heard Patricia scream just a little.

‘Sit down!’ James said, his voice loud and firm.

Beverley spoke once more, and again her voice was soft and far away.

‘Bright light . . . the bright light . . .’

Hearing this, Anthony started to change his mind about what was going on. It had been a bit spooky and weird up to now, but this bright light stuff? Wasn’t that what you apparently saw when you died? Yeah, it was, wasn’t it? He’d seen it on a documentary about near-death experiences. There was that really cool story about someone who had watched their own body being operated on, who had then told the surgeon about the whole thing, start to finish. So, it made sense then, all of it, what this Beverley was doing; she was simply trying to help Granddad, wasn’t she? Making it up, too, he had no doubt, but Granddad needed closure and if he heard that Nana was heading off to Heaven, floating off towards the light? Well, there was nothing wrong with that, was there? It was actually rather nice, he thought.

‘You can go to the light, Helen,’ Beverley said, her voice her own again, though Anthony thought how it sounded like she was struggling to control it, to keep it her own. ‘It’s safe, I promise.’

‘But I don’t want her to go,’ James said. ‘I want her to stay. To be here, with me!’

‘This was the before,’ Beverly said, speaking in that hauntingly faint voice once more. ‘Not the now . . . a bright light . . . blinding . . .’

Tapping at the window again, but this time it wouldn’t stop, as though not just one bird but half a dozen were out there, tap-tap-tapping at the glass. And then Beverley’s voice was no longer faint, but a droning moan, as though of someone at the bottom of a well, calling out, but without words.

‘Mum . . .’ Anthony said, almost without thinking, unable to disguise the fear in his voice.

‘It’s okay, Love,’ Ruth said.

But Anthony wasn’t so sure that it was, because the tapping was still going on, and Beverley’s moaning was twisting into something else, a scream scratching at the back of it.

Tap-tap-tap! Tap-tap-tap!

Anthony heard a sharp movement then the eeriness in the room was ripped apart by a wrenching howl that heaved itself out from Beverley’s throat.

‘Right, that’s it!’ Dan shouted.

Anthony opened his eyes to see Beverley on her feet and it looked to him like she had just had an electric shock, standing there as she was, stiff as a board, eyes wide, mouth pulled open, arms by her side, her fingers splayed outwards. Uncle