داخل خونه‌ی قدیمی

Chapter three

Inside the old house

But he was lucky. He saw nobody, and nobody saw him. He walked quickly out of the ward and out of the hospital. Outside, he saw that one of the nurses had left her bicycle against the wall. Howard stared at it. He had a strange feeling that he had done all this before. Somehow, a bicycle was important. But why? He couldn’t remember. But he knew he could ride a bicycle. He shook himself, got on the bicycle and rode away quickly.

Somehow he knew the way. It was like having a map in his head. There was Primrose Avenue, and there, yes, there was the big old house. It was hidden behind trees.

Howard started to walk up the drive. It was like the dream. He knew the way exactly. He was certain the answers were here, the answers to all of his questions.

Suddenly, he jumped into the shadow of the trees and stood very still under the branches. He could hear voices. He looked out slowly and saw a van, a white van. It was parked outside the house. Two people were standing by it. They were talking. They were wearing dark uniforms.

Then he saw who they were. The police! Of course! A woman had been murdered in this house, and the police were guarding it. He had to be more careful. He had to go round to the back of the house. Nobody would be able to see him there. He crept through the trees silently. He stayed in the shadows.

Again, he knew the way. Here was the back of the house and here was the drainpipe beside the balcony. He climbed up easily and opened the window. Somehow he knew it wasn’t locked. He climbed in and stood in the dark. He was breathing deeply, but he wasn’t afraid. The house felt warm and friendly. He felt his way across the upstairs hall with his hands. Then he started down the stairs, step by step, slowly and carefully. Suddenly he felt afraid – very afraid. But why?

The house didn’t feel friendly any more. Something was waiting for him downstairs, something evil and cruel and–

Howard cried out. He was terrified. Someone was lying on the floor below! He could see a white shape, with the arms out at the sides.

Then the moon appeared from behind a cloud and shone through the window. Howard’s legs felt weak. The body he had seen on the floor had seemed real. Was he remembering something or was he just dreaming it?

He could see clearly now. It wasn’t a body on the rug below. It was only some white marks. The police had made white marks on the floor. They had wanted to show the place – the place where the body had been. There was nothing to be afraid of, but had he remembered something else? He looked again, nearer and nearer. Then he turned away. He was feeling sick. Beside the shape of the head, the rug was dark, dark with blood.

Howard almost fell down the last steps. He ran across the hall. He crashed into tables, chairs and a large, heavy wooden box. The moonlight shone on its top. It was covered with Chinese dragons. He turned away. He couldn’t breathe. He had to get outside. He had to get into the cold night air.

Suddenly he stopped. Voices! He heard the sound of a key in the lock. He looked around wildly. He had to hide, but where, where? The Chinese box? No, not there, not with those dragons! But he had to. There was nowhere else. He climbed in.

The voices came nearer and stopped just by the box. It was the two police officers Howard had seen outside. In the box he tried to breathe quietly. The voices were clear.

‘I want you to have a look around,’ one was saying. ‘You haven’t been here before, have you?’

‘What happened exactly,’ the other said. ‘The old lady was murdered and–’

Howard thought about the police officer. Was he pointing - to the shape at the bottom of the stairs, pointing to the dry blood?

But now he was speaking again, ‘We’ve got the man that did it. You know that, don’t you? He wanted to steal that dragon. We think the old lady heard something. Maybe she was watching television. She came to the bottom of the stairs. He was coming down silently and when he saw her– crash! He hit her. We don’t know what he hit her with. He just hit wildly in the dark and ran back upstairs, and got out through the window. But this time he made a mistake. He slipped and fell.’

In the box Howard was listening very carefully to every word. Was he hearing the true story now? He thought carefully. Why couldn’t he remember? ‘– in the dark’, the police officer had said. No, that was wrong. It wasn’t dark. But how did he know this? Why was it important?

‘The cleaner found him the next morning. He was unconscious under the balcony. He was sleeping like a baby, but he’d hurt his head. The dragon was on the ground beside him.’

Their voices were getting weaker. They were going away. Howard waited– fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. Then he opened the top of the box a little. Everything was still outside, still and dark. The moon was hidden again. He climbed out. He tried to be very quiet.

The room was very dark, and he couldn’t see anything. He held his hands in front of him and moved one foot slowly, then the other. If he could switch on the light, just for a minute, he would be able to see the shape of the room– and the doors. His hands touched something hard. The wall! Good. If he followed the wall, he would find the door. Yes, here it was and here was the handle.

Howard suddenly felt light and happy. In a second he was going to be in the fresh air. And he was going to be free from the heavy walls of this house. They seemed like a prison to him now. He had to go to the police. He had to tell them they were wrong, terribly wrong about him.

He opened the door and stepped quickly through the doorway–