I’m standing in the kitchen, looking out over the back garden. Daddy’s tree looks gorgeous. Pippa and I decorated it by ourselves with tinsel and holly-shaped lights. And contrary to what Mum said, it’s not dead yet and still won’t be by Christmas.
The strange thing though is Pippa’s life-size walking doll, which is tied to the post of the swing by a rope, and currently getting very, very wet in the rain.
“Pips,” I say casually, going into the living room. “Pips, what’s your doll doing outside?”
Pippa shrugs but keeps her attention riveted on the TV.
“Seriously Pippa, why is it in the garden? I thought you liked it.”
Pippa shrugs again but doesn’t seem in any hurry to offer an explanation.
“Did Seth put it out there?” I prompt her.
“No,” she says finally. “I put it there.”
“Why?”
“You’ve got to promise not to tell Mum. Or Seth. Or anyone. Because they’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Okay,” I say gently. The truth is I already have my suspicions as to what she is going to say. “You have to tell me though, because if Mum sees it out there she’s only going to go and bring it back in and be really mad at you for ruining it.”
I sit down next to her on the couch.
“I don’t like it, Kaity,” she says quietly. “It did weird things. You know you saw that bruise on my knee yesterday and I told you I tripped?”
I nod.
“I did trip, but I swear that the doll stuck its leg out as I walked past.”
I nod. Given some of the things I’ve heard in school, this doesn’t seem that far-fetched.
“And I think it did things in the night. I put it in the closet when I went to bed, and when I woke up it was sitting in the chair looking at me. And last night, after you’d all gone to sleep, I crept downstairs and shut it in the freezer.”
“And this morning Mum yelled at you for leaving it on the stairs,” I add, remembering that particular argument from earlier today.
“And that toy car that Seth trod on and got mad about? I think the doll put it there. The toy car wasn’t even mine. I don’t like cars and I know it wasn’t yours, but Seth was convinced we’d put it there on purpose.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about what Seth thinks,” I say.
“Do you think I’ve gone crazy?” Pippa asks shyly.
“No, sweetie, but you know that nasty Santa at the mall, the one who gave you the doll? I think he just got a bad batch of toys, faulty ones, and that’s why he was giving them away for free. He was just trying to seem nice, but really he was giving toys that don’t work properly. Don’t feel bad though because I don’t think you’re the only one complaining.”
Pippa nods unhappily.
“We shouldn’t leave it out there though, because Mum won’t understand and she’ll just be mad at you for leaving it outside in all this sleet. I’ll go and get it, and we’ll stick it in the cupboard under the stairs in the basement and tie it up. That way if it’s going to bother anyone it will bother Seth, and you won’t have anything to worry about, okay?”
Pippa nods again.
I don’t bother getting my coat. I just run outside to get the doll. I notice there are footprints in the path alongside the garden. Seth must have been lurking again. No one else uses that path.
I look into the doll’s creepy bottomless eyes as I untie it.
“Creeeeepy,” I say to it, as if it was in any doubt. I grab the rope Pippa used to tie it in the first place, and when I get back inside Pippa gives me a wide berth as if the doll is suddenly going to come to life and attack her.
I go downstairs and into the cupboard while Pippa watches warily from the top step.
“Tie it tight,” she calls.
So I do. I find a solid water pipe and loop the rope around the doll’s waist and feel like I’m tying up a kid instead of a doll because it’s so life-like. I tie six knots and loop the rope twice more, before locking the door behind me as I leave.
“There,” I dust my hands off. “She’d need a hacksaw to get out of that.”
Pippa doesn’t look so sure, but when I go up the stairs she flings herself at me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Thanks, Kaity,” she says. “You’re the best big sister ever.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say.
“I thought I was going mad. I thought you’d all be angry at me for being crazy.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say. “It’s just a fault with that batch of dolls. We’ll get rid of it after Christmas.”
Is it wrong of me to secretly hope it will get out and scare Seth for me in the middle of the night? I shall go to bed hoping for screams.