SK8Five Adventures and The Mystery Of Hammond Hall

MALC MEETS STELLA STEVENS

CHAPTER 5

MALC MEETS STELLA STEVENS

Hammond Hall was only 10 minutes 'skate' away from the park. Malc skated towards the Hall door, while everyone else hid behind the high wall at the entrance. He paused at the huge black door, holding the petition in one hand, glancing over his shoulder to see the other four faces watching and waiting.

Malc reached out to press the bell.

He heard a faint 'ding-dong' in the background.

"I hope no-one's home, I hope..........Malc's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. His hopes were in vain. He rolled back from the door thinking that he should about-turn and flee down the path, telling the rest of them that no-one was home. He glanced over his shoulder and could just make out four heads peering over the wall.

"Bang goes that idea!", he thought.

The door opened. Standing in the dim light of the hallway wasn't Old Mrs Willsford, unless she'd found the 'elixir of youth!' Instead, a women aged about thirty-five with long jet black hair and piercing emerald green eyes looked surprised at the quivering person who had disturbed her evening, and said "Well, what can I do for you young man?"

Malc felt the palms of his hands sweating.

"I wonder if you would like to sign this petition to help us get a skatepark?" he said, remarkably calm for someone gripped with fear.

He handed her the piece of paper, which she studied carefully before saying "Give me a pen then".

Malc rummaged furiously in his pocket for the pen and when he finally pulled it out he couldn't believe his eyes. His face turned a deathly shade of white, his stomach churned, he felt sick. The woman had turned the petition over and was now studying the drawing Joey had made earlier of the face at the window!

She snatched the pen from Malc, "And what might this be?" she said, holding up the paper to Malc's. Malc gulped.

"I don't know" he stuttered, " I think it's my younger brother's drawing of a cartoon", he laughed nervously, "He watches far too much TV". He thought he was beginning to ramble, so he shut up.

It seemed as if she had studied the picture for hours, but it was only minutes when she eventually turned the page back over and said "He's got a vivid imagination, your brother". She signed across the page Stella Stevens.

"Is Mrs Willsford in to sign too?", he could hardly believe he was saying it.

Ms Steven's (if that was her real name) eyes narrowed, as she looked up from the petition. Her mouth seemed to twist at the corners into a kind of snarl.

"No she isn't, she snapped,she's gone on a last minute holiday and I'm looking after the place for her , is that okay with you?"

She thrust the petition towards Malc, saying "I've signed your measly petition, now goodbye".

Stella wasn't pleased, thought Malc. The door slammed shut and Malc jolted backwards. It was over, he'd done it. His palms were still sweating and his legs felt like lead, but he was alive! He turned and skated back towards the gang.

"Who is she, what did she say?" said Joey, as Malc reached them.

Before Malc had a chance to answer Kris signalled to get away from the Hall, so they skated down the street as far as the No. 26 bus shelter, and gathered inside.

"Okay, spill the beans, Malc" demanded Pete.

After he had told his heroic tale, Malc prodded Joey in the ribs saying, "I thought I was going to be tomorrow's breakfast when she saw your drawing. I'm sure she recognised the face, she seemed to turn a bit nasty after studying it".

"One poached Malc on toast, please" spouted Joey, squirming away from the prodding finger.

Jenny, who had been fairly quiet so far, began summing-up. "So, are we all agreed that we need to investigate further?" Everyone nodded , yes.

"We must find out if Mrs Willsford really is on holiday. Pete, you check with the milkman and the newspaper shop to see if deliveries have stopped. Jenny, you check the local telephone book for a S. Stevens. Malc, you go to the library and look for some history on Hammond Hall , there might be a way in without using the front door. Joey, take your drawing home and study it to see if there is anything you missed or forgot to add, and I'll speak to my Dad about Mrs Willsford's family background, etc.", ordered Kris.

There was nothing more to be done.Malc was the hero of the night and had kept his cool. Before they split up to go their different routes home, the group agreed to meet the next evening in Mallard Park at 6 p.m. to compare notes on their tasks. It wasn't until Pete was about to drift off to sleep that evening that he remembered Hammond Hall was on his Sunday paper round, tomorrow. He sat bolt upright, half asleep, wondering if it was still dark when he reached the Hall, he'd never thought about it until now. He scanned his memory cells. It was dark! He flopped back onto the pillow. If Mrs Willsford was on holiday she won't want a Sunday paper, he thought. But if they are not cancelled he will have to deliver it. He decided he would speed up to the letterbox, ram the paper in and rush back to the main road. His brain was melting. He was too tired to think straight. He turned over and began to dream of something simple....food. Roll on breakfast!

The house was quiet when Pete got up and silently had his first meal of the day. Cereal, with toast and jam.The rest of the household were still asleep, no way were they getting up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday, so Pete was left to organise his own breakfast. He didn't mind, it meant he could raid the fridge if he was still hungry! The streets were quiet, not much traffic around at this time on a Sunday. Pete liked that, as he could speed along on his bike without worrying too much about cars.

Leaning his bike against the wall outside Arnie's News shop, he walked into the shop to pick up his sack of papers. Arnie himself was behind the counter, counting out 20p sweetie mix-ups.

"Arnie, has Mrs Willsford at the Hall cancelled her newspapers?, he enquired straight away.

"Not that I know of, she's not on holiday is she?" Arnie replied. "Catch!"

He threw Pete a penny chew, which he plucked out of the air with the reflexes of a top class goalkeeper.

"Someone told me she was" said Pete, unwrapping the sweet paper.

"Well, she usually cancels when she's away, so better keep putting them through her letterbox until someone says different" said Arnie. This wasn't what Pete wanted to hear.

He gathered up the sack, threw it over his shoulder, and shouted to Arnie that he would drop off the bag sometime the next day, as the schools were on holiday. Arnie was too engrossed in his work to answer back, he'd already lost count three times!

Hammond Hall was the last drop-off on Pete's round, and as he cycled past the No. 26 bus shelter he began to get nervous. He reached the big iron gates and all seemed peaceful. He pushed them open and paused at the top of the driveway. He drew in a deep breath.

"One, Two, Three, go! "he said to himself, and began pedalling like fury down the drive towards the front door, where Malc stood last night. Head down and legs pumping, by the time he looked up it was too late, he knew he wasn't going to stop in time, he slammed on the brakes, the bike hit the bottom step and stopped, but Pete kept going. The last thing he saw was the black door, as he smashed into it and then everything else turned black. He was out cold.

When he slowly opened his eyes, his head thumping, he wasn't lying in a crumpled heap on the front doorstep, he was on a camp bed in a dimly lit room with bare walls, a sink and a few bits of furniture. He was inside the Hall! He tried to get up, but he felt too weak.

He wondered how long he had been there, when he heard footsteps coming towards the door, he closed his eyes and pretended he was still unconscious. The door opened and a woman's voice spoke.

"What are we going to do with him?"

A male voice answered back. "Wait until he comes round and we'll ask him what he knows".

Pete's heart was racing. He didn't dare open his eyes. The door closed and Pete heard a key turn in the lock. They had gone. He lay motionless, scared to blink an eyelid, hoping this was just a nightmare and he would waken soon. It wasn't!