V and I used to spend hours staring at the outfits in the museum, imagining what we’d look like in them, knowing we’d never get a chance to wear them. I turned to face Will, pleading with him. “Please, Will. You have no idea how much I wanted to wear one of these dresses when I was little. It’ll be fun!”
His eyes widened in fear. “Hell no! I just wanted to stop you wasting money. I’m definitely not going to do it!”
The woman from behind the desk was watching us now, a smirk on her face, clearly amused by our conversation. I wondered if it was the first male-female argument she’d seen tonight regarding dressing up.
I decided to take charge. “Yes, Will, you are. I’m paying. Come on!” And with that I dragged him over to the desk and handed the woman £40 before he could protest any further. It was a bit steep, I admit, but I’d saved so much money from not eating at the Diner recently that I thought I could afford to splash out. Hell, I deserved to splash out.
Ten minutes later, I was dressed in a lavish purple and white Victorian replica dress complete with giant underskirt, long flared sleeves, corset, and more cleavage than I usually put on show. I also had a long, black wig that was styled into ringlets. They weren’t the most comfortable of things to wear, but I vowed to keep them on all evening to get my money’s worth.
Will had chosen - or rather, had chosen for him - a black suit with a long coat and a much-too-ruffled cream coloured shirt for his taste, but I think he secretly liked it and he agreed to wear it as long as I was paying.
I had to shell out an extra £5 each for the deposit, and I desperately hoped I wouldn’t drop any food on the dress during the next few hours. Although, as far as the corset was concerned, I didn’t think I’d be able to eat anything anyway, so I paid the extra £10 and asked the woman to take a photo of the two of us using my phone. After that, we headed outside to test out our new looks.
***
It was hard to walk in my dress. It was so long that I had to pick up the ridiculously large skirt so I didn’t trip over, and the corset was feeling tighter with every passing minute. I stood up straighter and breathed in as much as I could.
Will seemed to be having problems, too; he kept pulling his trousers up while trying to keep his shirt tucked in. Lord and Lady we definitely were not.
Walking up the steps to the Mansion House, we joined the queue of people entering through one of the three main doors into the Grand Foyer.
The entrance room was a vision of white marble, or at least it usually was. The busts of long-dead Willowton Lords were covered in black cobwebs, the dazzling gold chandelier had green ooze dripping from its delicate crystals, and there was a rather childish crime scene outline of a body on the floor.
I was just staring at the strange position the fake person must have died in when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Jumping only slightly, I turned round to face a giant demon, at least three or four feet taller than me. It was laughing under its red and black mask.
“I sense this one has… Powers!”
Even trying to be a creepy giant demon, Daniel Fields couldn’t hide his voice very well.
“Hi Daniel.”
The demon slumped. Or as much as he could when he was eight or nine feet tall.
“I didn’t know you could walk on stilts.”
Will started lifting up the bottom of Daniel’s stripy silk trousers to see what was underneath, causing the head teacher to kick out reflexively, nearly losing his balance in the process.
“If you don’t mind…!” He looked back at me, or at least I thought that was what he was doing; his mask didn’t leave much room for manoeuvring. “Yes I can stilt walk. I can also ride a tricycle, juggle, fire twirl and fly on the trapeze. I went to Birston Circus School for five years.”
Daniel Fields never failed to surprise me.
“Well, anyway, you’d better hurry along, we’re holding the queue up. Have a horrific time, both of you!”
He started laughing as we walked off, and I could tell he was enjoying every evil minute of it.
“Man, that guy pops up everywhere!”
I nodded, agreeing with Will. “I don’t know how he has time to sleep.”
“Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he really is some kind of demon.” He paused dramatically. “Maybe he’s our killer…”
I shushed Will, laughing at the same time. “Maybe he’s in on it with Connor; they seemed pretty chummy at Rach’s book club.”
Will stopped walking. “Really?”
I gave him a clip round the ear. “I’m joking! If Daniel Fields is a crazed psychopath, then there really is no hope for the rest of us.”
Daniel’s maniacal laughing floated over to us from behind and I looked at Will, his mouth turning up at the corners.
We were both still laughing at the thought when we entered the next room.
***
As usual, each and every single room of Chillingsley made me stand and stare in awe. The Dining Room - with its high ceilings, long table, and elegant place settings - was made only slightly less appealing by the fake food on display, most of which was oozing with slime and guts and was accompanied by glasses of what I guessed was meant to be blood.
The Red Drawing Room was stuffed with dead dummies, some of which looked a little too real for my liking (especially the deceased little girl on one of the chairs), and the Library was lit with eerie red lamps, casting ghoulish shadows onto the centuries-old tomes.
Will and I watched in amusement as one of Ralph Cooper’s idiotic friends messed about with an out-of-bounds bookcase and found the secret passageway that ran through the downstairs of the building. He was all jokes and showing off until he pulled the bookcase shut and inadvertently got stuck in the now blocked-off passage. Ralph, as ringleader, thought this was the funniest thing he’d ever seen (even Will and I had tears in our eyes from laughing), and decided to leave his so-called friend there.
Once they’d left the room and there were still desperate shouts and pounding noises coming from the bookcase, I decided to put him out of his misery. After all, if it was me who was stuck in that tiny space, I’d be far more hysterical than he was being.
Walking over, I pressed on the large, black book and let the case creak open.
The tall, lanky teenage boy - who had tears running down his face - jumped out of the small hole as soon as he could before leaping on me and hugging me fiercely. After a second or two of awkwardness, he let go of me, embarrassed, and ran out of the room.
“That was a good trick.” It was Mrs-bloody-Teasdale, who had obviously just entered the room and seen me apparently conjuring a snivelling male from a bookcase.
I walked quickly over to Will - who could barely breathe he was laughing so much - and pushed him out of the room, giving Mrs T a quick (and what I hoped was sarcastic-looking) smile.
The next thing we did was take a tour of the servants’ quarters, which had been a particular favourite of mine since childhood when V and I had learned how to wash clothes Victorian-style and helped to make old-fashioned biscuits in the kitchen.
Entering the servants’ kitchen was like entering another world; everything was done with such fine detail that it always seemed more real to me than any other part of the Estate, and the wooden tables, copper pots and giant jelly moulds always made me wish I knew how to cook. For a few minutes, anyway.
Of course, it wasn’t looking its usual charming self tonight. The normally smiling, helpful maids were now grimacing, dirt-covered ghouls, screeching with laughter at anyone unfortunate enough to enter their grime-encrusted kitchen.
One of the women - whom I thought I recognised but couldn’t quite tell under all the make-up and fake blood - grabbed hold of Will and slammed him against the wall, a little too violently for my liking.
“Could I treat a nice, young lad like yourself to some of our pie? It’s delicious! It’s made from only the finest human ingredients.”
Will looked slightly panicked. “Er… no, you’re alright, th
anks.”
The kitchen hand screeched her banshee-like laugh again and let go of him, giggling to herself madly as she disappeared down the small corridor towards the brew house.
“You OK, Will?” I tried to hide my smile as he peeled himself off the wall.
“No… I think I went to high school with that girl. She scared the crap out of me then and she still does now!”
I took Will’s hand, laughing, and led him over to the main table where various kitchen implements - that looked more like torture devices - were laid out.
I started picking them up and inspecting them, trying to guess what they were used for (V and I used to play this game when we were little), until I came to a silver plate cloche, taking pride of place in the middle of the table.
The sick people at Willowton did this every year, and I briefly wondered if Will knew about this particular joke.
“Hey, Will, what dish do you think is under here?”
He kneeled down to be on the same level as the cloche and hovered his hand over it. “Probably some of that human pie that Little Miss Freak was on about.”
I watched, trying not to laugh, as he reached out and lifted the lid.
The top of the cloche clattered to the floor as Will yelled, jumped up, and hung onto me for dear life.
It only took me a few seconds to join in with the screaming.
“Hi Beth!”
This year, the damn head that was always under the cloche was none other than my boss, Hannah Green. She had white make-up all over her face and was doing a pretty good job of looking like a corpse.
“Jesus, Hannah. I didn’t know you worked Fright Fest.”
The corpse head smiled, showing newly-blackened teeth. “Got ya! I wouldn’t have missed that reaction for the world. It is a bit uncomfortable under here though, only got a little cushion to sit on.”
I prized Will’s fingers off from around my waist and smiled at Hannah.
“I think I need a drink after that.”
Hannah tried to gesture behind her with her head. “There are free samples in the brewery.”
Will grabbed my hand and started walking towards the corridor. “That sounds more like my kind of thing.”
I waved bye to Hannah as we left the kitchen, ignoring her request that I put the lid back on over her head.
Hey, she wasn’t my boss here.
***
The Brew House always seemed formidable to me, whether it was Fright Fest or not; something to do with the giant, gaping wooden vats and the old-fashioned machinery lurking in shadowy corners made me uneasy.
Astonishingly, they still produced beer here for a local brewery, giving the whole place an air of authenticity that a lot of the other rooms didn’t have.
It was empty of people when we got there, and Will made a beeline for the sample table, picking up two of the small glasses and downing them one after the other. He had a third and fourth in his hand when he went over to the ‘History of Chillingsley Brew House’ information board.
I picked up one of the glasses and smelled it suspiciously before taking a gulp. I wasn’t the biggest beer fan in the world, but hey, it was free.
“Awesome.”
I turned round to face Will. “What’s awesome?”
“Did you know that servants at Chillingsley used to be given eight pints of beer a day as part of their wages? Even kids used to drink it.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me, maybe I should go and suggest it to Hannah while she’s stuck in that table.”
Will walked back over to the sample stand and deposited the empty glasses. “Yeah, remind me to get you back for that, by the way.”
I smiled, putting my own glass down. “Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t know about the Head in the Kitchen; they do it every year.”
He handed me another glass of free beer. “Well at least I’ll know for next year.” He smiled, his eyes lingering on mine. I broke his gaze and moved away to look at the information plaque, and at the same moment we were plunged into darkness. I gasped, nearly dropping my glass in surprise, and instinctively reached out towards Will, but I’d moved too far away and couldn’t find him.
“Beth?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I could hear my voice shaking.
A familiar cackling sound drifted over to us in the gloom, and I heard Will moan loudly, “Turn on the damn lights!”
I blinked as the room was suddenly illuminated.
The girl Will knew from school was standing next to the switches, giggling madly. “Got you, Wolseley. You know I always wanted to get you alone in a darkened room…”
I walked over to the table, deposited my glass, and pulled Will by the arm towards the exit. I was furious that this stupid, annoying girl had just scared the crap out of me. “Yeah, well he’s not alone, is he?” I screeched, a bit banshee-like.
I dragged Will out into the fresh air, slamming the large door shut behind me. “What the hell is her problem?”
Will looked dazed, as if he wasn’t sure what had just happened. “Are you OK?”
I nodded, walking off towards the bright lights of the marquee. “I’d just rather not be in the dark right now.”
***
We’d just emerged from the large crafts tent when we ran into The Couple.
“Sorry! I didn’t see… Beth? Will?” Rach obviously hadn’t recognised us straight away, and I smiled to myself.
I’d almost forgotten we were in costume; I’d become so used to them when we were in the mansion house and the servants’ quarters, where we matched the extravagant surroundings.
I curtseyed to Rach and Max, then immediately wished I hadn’t when I saw Max staring at the top of my corset, where certain things were threatening to pop out. Will noticed too and I cursed myself for not trying on a different size.
“Where on earth did you get those clothes from?”
I mentally thanked Rach for steering the conversation in a less embarrassing direction. “You can hire them for the evening from the museum. You two should do it, you’d look brilliant!” Rach would definitely look more Lady-like than me.
Her eyes lit up and she turned to face Max, whose unimpressed expression was exactly the same as Will’s had been when I’d dragged him to the museum desk. “Please?”
Max looked at Will for backup, who responded with a, “Be strong, man!”
Unfortunately for Will, Rach looked him up and down and came back with, “Like you, you mean?”
I laughed at the look on Will’s face when he realised he was probably as under the thumb as Max was, and I realised I was having a good time - a really good time - for the first time in ages. The only thing that would make it better would have been…
“Veronica!”
I glanced at Rach, thinking she must have developed psychic powers, before following her eye line to a couple of people standing next to one of the pillars outside the Mansion.
Her eyesight must have been better than mine; in the darkness it took me a few seconds to recognise her from this distance. “Who’s she with?”
Will answered flatly, “Norman.”
***
I watched V and Norman for a minute or so, the other three in silence behind me, and after a while Rach mumbled something about looking in the marquee. I didn’t reply.
Will came and stood next to me and I glanced up to see him shrug, looking as bewildered as I was. I turned back to watch Veronica and Norman and from what I could tell at this distance, they were talking animatedly. Or, at least, Norman was; Veronica was looking at him with what might have been fear. Or it could have been boredom. I couldn’t quite tell.
“I can’t see anything from here.” Grabbing Will’s hand, I started walking towards the Hall, making sure to keep behind big groups of people as much as possible. We managed to get to the stairs and we both slid behind one of the pillars about twenty feet from where Norman and Veronica were standing. If we poked our heads round we could see them pretty well; I only prayed that
neither of them would turn in our direction and see us spying on them.
I still couldn’t hear what they were saying from this distance but I could see their faces more clearly now, coloured green by all the tiny lights. Veronica didn’t look scared or bored after all - she looked angry. Almost as angry as she’d been with me at the Diner.
Norman, on the other hand, seemed worried; he kept putting his hand up to his temple as if he had a headache.
I took Will’s hand again and dragged him to the next pillar along, walking behind them so neither Norman nor Veronica would catch sight of us. I still couldn’t hear anything but I was scared to get too close in case they did see us; I couldn’t afford to piss either of them off any more than I already had.
V suddenly turned towards us - as if she were about to walk away from Norman - and I quickly pulled my head back behind the pillar, nearly knocking it into Will’s in the process.
I held my breath and could feel my heart beating rapidly beneath my newly-found cleavage. I looked at Will - who seemed just as jumpy as I was - and it dawned on me just how strange my life had become. Now it was me spying on Veronica, and Norman of all people. I wondered if Connor had also been giving V advice on staying away from Norman.
None of it made any sense.
Veronica hadn’t walked past and I hadn’t seen her walk into the crowd so I peeked my head tentatively round the pillar again, with Will doing the same. She was still standing next to Norman, but now Norman had his hand around her wrist, seemingly trying to stop her walking off.
Veronica didn’t look happy by this turn of events, and was struggling out of Norman’s surprisingly strong-looking grip. When she’d freed her arm she yelled something at him - from this distance I couldn’t tell what - and stormed off towards the gardens. Norman turned to watch her and then lurched off in the direction of the marquee.
We waited for a minute or so and then made our own way towards Chillingsley Gardens.
***
Will and I crept towards the elegantly decorated archway that served as the entrance to the gardens, and we were about halfway across the gravelled space in front of the Mansion House when someone called Will’s name.
Stopping abruptly, we turned to see his colleague - Michael Cushion - peering hesitantly at us, and it took me a few seconds to realise why he looked so uncertain; I’m guessing Will had never turned up to the grocery store looking like this.