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  Behind the man was a young girl – younger than Ben, perhaps ten or eleven years old. She was pale and thin, with her mouse-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were wide and were constantly moving, looking at everyone and everything, darting back and forth. She was wearing a pair of charcoal-grey trousers and a white blouse with a plain blazer over it. Maybe it was her school uniform, but there was no insignia or design on the blazer.

  The man put the wooden box down on the dining table opposite where the children had lined up. The top was rounded and there were metal handles fixed to each end. It looked more like a small trunk, or a pirate’s treasure chest. Metal bands were braced round the wood and there was a large keyhole set in the front.

  The man’s voice was strong and deep, echoing in the large room. ‘You may ask your colleagues to leave now, Mr Magill. I’m sure we can cope between us.’

  Ben grinned at Miss Haining’s expression as she stamped from the room. Mr Casswell raised his eyebrows at Mr Magill, who spread his hands as if to say it was nothing to do with him. Mr Magill followed Miss Haining and Mr Casswell to the door, then closed it firmly behind them.

  ‘Thank you all for coming. This won’t take long,’ Mr Magill announced, turning back to face the line of children. ‘And it’s absolutely nothing to worry about. No one’s in trouble or anything.’

  The man with the box was standing looking at them, his hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets. After a short pause he spoke. ‘As Mr Magill says, this will only take a few moments. I shall probably ask one or two of you to stay behind for a few words, but the rest of you – as soon as I tap you on the shoulder, you can go.’

  He started at the end of the line furthest from Ben and Sam. Bradley Mulverton was the first and he stared back at the man sullenly. The man turned to glance at the mousy-haired girl, who was now sitting on the table beside the wooden box. She was swinging her legs and now shook her head.

  The man tapped Bradley on the shoulder. ‘You may go.’

  It was different with Megan Philps, who was next in line. The man seemed hardly to look at her. He had taken a mobile phone from his pocket. It was the sort that folded shut and he flipped it open, holding it up in front of Megan and staring at the screen.

  ‘Yes, please, if you would stay behind for now.’

  ‘Can I sit down?’

  The man ignored her, but Mr Magill told her she could wait on the bench beside the other dining table. Soon a couple more children had joined her. The man passed slowly along the line, still glancing at his phone every now and again – occasionally staring at it for a while before deciding whether to keep someone behind or let them go.

  Sometimes he turned to the girl, who either nodded or shook her head to give her opinion. The man always did what she suggested – if she nodded they stayed, if she shook her head they could go.

  Finally, the man reached Chris, who was standing next to Sam. Ben could see that the man’s face seemed lined with sorrow and dark determination. He glanced at the phone and Ben leaned out of line to try to see what he was looking at. But the man lowered the phone again. Was he getting texts or checking his email or something?

  ‘You can go,’ the man told Chris.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Chris mumbled. ‘See you,’ he said to Sam and Ben and Jaz, before hurrying over to where Mr Magill opened the door for him.

  The man stepped across to look at Sam. He glanced at her and began to raise his phone. Then he hesitated and frowned.

  ‘Have we met before?’ he asked.

  Sam shook her head. ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘Maybe at another home or school?’

  ‘I’d remember,’ she told him.

  The man clicked his tongue, but did not reply. He raised the phone and held it in front of Sam. His frown deepened. He turned to look at the girl sitting on the table behind.

  She was also frowning, her mouth slightly open as if surprised. Staring at Sam.

  ‘Gemma?’ the man prompted.

  She swallowed and nodded quickly. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was quiet and nervous. ‘Definitely yes.’

  ‘Please wait with the others,’ the man told Sam.

  He barely glanced at Ben, didn’t even bother to check his phone. ‘You can go,’ he said. ‘And so can you,’ he told Jaz.

  ‘Why are you keeping them here?’ Ben demanded. His voice was shaking, but he had to know what was going to happen to Sam.

  The man turned away without answering. Mr Magill patted Ben on the shoulder.

  ‘Come on. Time to go. Sam will be OK. It’s nothing to worry about. Just a quick test. And I know how much you hate tests. Both of you,’ he added, leading Ben and Jaz to the door. ‘It’s nearly time to go up for bed. You’ll see Sam in the morning and she can tell you all about it then. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Ben agreed sulkily. But it wasn’t OK. And he wasn’t going to bed until he knew what was happening.

  *

  The bolt had already been drawn back. Maybe someone had left the door unbolted by accident. Or maybe, Ben realised, someone was already up on the gallery, watching what was happening in the main hall.

  He couldn’t think who it might be – unless Jaz or one of the other kids was as curious as he was about what was going on. Just in case, Ben took the steps carefully and slowly. He kept close to the wall, knowing from experience that this meant the old wooden stairs were less likely to creak.

  He paused almost at the top and peered round the corner, across the dimly lit gallery.

  A dark shape stood at the other end – stick-thin arms outstretched as she held the gallery rail. Her nose was a distinctive blade of shadow. Miss Haining.

  For a moment, Ben wondered if he should creep back down the stairs. But only for a moment.

  There was a table along the gallery. A long, narrow table used by the decorators who had finished and left months ago. They’d also left rolls of lining paper and a pot of dried-up paint with a brush stuck into it. You could pick up the whole pot by the brush handle.

  The table cast an even darker shadow across the gloom. Ben waited until he was sure that Miss Haining’s attention was entirely fixed on the hall below, then darted out and into the shadow. He crouched down, hidden by the table, and looked out between the balustrades. He held his breath, alert to the silhouette of Miss Haining and ready to run if she came his way.

  But she too was watching events below. The half-dozen children who had been kept behind were sitting on the bench beside one of the dining tables. Ben could see Sam beside Big Jim at the end of the bench.

  The man in the suit was standing by the other table. His voice carried easily to where Ben was hiding.

  ‘I want you all to look at something. That’s all. Nothing difficult.’

  The girl – he had called her Gemma – was sitting beside the box, her attention fixed on the children opposite. The man took a large black key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the box.

  He spoke quietly – so quietly that Ben couldn’t hear what he said. Then he leaned across the table and opened the lid of the box. Keeping his eyes on the watching children, he slowly began to tilt the box so they could see inside.

  From where he was, Ben could see nothing. Miss Haining was also leaning out, trying to see into the box, but with no more success than Ben.

  In the hall below, the children on the bench leaned forward too. Charlie Kleb stood up for a better view. The box tipped further. Further. Until they could all see inside it.

  And Sam screamed. One hand to her mouth, eyes wide in terror. Everyone else turned to look at her as she stared transfixed at the box. And screamed and screamed and screamed, like Ben had never heard her scream before.

  3

  BEN COULDN’T MOVE OR BREATHE. MISS HAINING hurried past him, thumping down the stairs. Sam was screaming, and Mr Magill and the man in the suit were trying to calm her.

  The box was still open on the table, but Ben couldn’t see inside it. What was inside it? What had Sam seen?

&n
bsp; The girl, Gemma, closed the lid of the box. The man pointed at the box and said something that Ben didn’t hear. Because Sam was still screaming. Miss Haining hurried in through the door below the gallery, appearing beneath Ben. Mr Magill yelled at her to get Nurse.

  Mr Magill struggled to hold Sam, to stop her arms thrashing about, to calm her down. Ben backed across the gallery, his foot sending the paint pot clattering away. Then he turned and ran down the stairs. Sam’s screams echoed after him.

  The gallery door was closed. Ben grabbed the handle, turned and pushed in one movement. But the door didn’t move. Bolted. He was trapped, and he could still hear Sam screaming and couldn’t get to her.

  He hammered on the door and yelled, but he knew no one would hear him over the sound of his sister. So he hurried back up to the gallery.

  Nurse was standing over Sam. She only worked some days at the home. Other days she was at other homes or schools. But luckily today … She turned away and Ben could see the syringe she put into her bag before turning back to Sam.

  The screams were subsiding. Sam seemed calmer, but she was still breathing heavily. Whimpering. Her eyes blinking rapidly as her body fought against the sedative.

  Below him, Ben could see Mr Magill and the man in the dark suit talking quietly. He caught just a few words and phrases:

  ‘… most extreme I’ve seen … definitely right to call me here …’

  ‘She can’t be moved, not tonight,’ Mr Magill replied.

  ‘Tomorrow, then …’

  Ben didn’t hear any more. But he saw that Miss Haining was standing close to Mr Magill and the man. Was she listening too?

  Ben was more concerned about Sam. She seemed to be groggy, leaning against the nurse, who was beside her on the bench. The nurse was talking quietly to Sam and soothing her.

  ‘Help me get the poor girl to her room,’ Nurse called.

  Mr Magill went to help. Slowly, everyone else left the hall as well. It took a while for Ben to realise that the man in the suit had gone. So had Gemma. And the box.

  He waited until the hall was empty, then climbed carefully over the gallery rail. It wobbled a bit, but he hoped it would take his weight. Heart thumping, he lowered himself until he was hanging by his hands from the gallery floor. How far was the drop now? A metre? More than that – two metres?

  His arms were tiring, though, and he didn’t have any choice. He let go.

  The floor slammed into his feet and Ben fell. He tried to roll, but he just jarred his wrist and bruised his side. He got painfully to his feet and limped from the hall.

  ***

  ‘Ah, Ben. I was just coming to find you.’

  Ben bumped into Mr Magill as he was on his way to the girls’ block. ‘I want to see Sam,’ he said. ‘How is she? What happened?’

  ‘Calmly,’ Mr Magill said, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘She’s OK. Had a bit of a turn, as I expect the others told you. But she’s going to be all right now. Nurse Muir has given her something to help her sleep.’

  ‘I want to see her,’ Ben repeated.

  ‘Maybe later. What she needs now is rest. She’ll be fine by the morning. She won’t wake until then, and Nurse will keep an eye on her.’

  ‘What happened? Who was that man? What did he do?’

  ‘Oh, it was nothing to do with that,’ Mr Magill said quickly. ‘How could it be? No one else was taken ill. Just one of those things.’ He was leading Ben back to the main house as he spoke. ‘She’ll be fine soon. Really. The doctor is going to call and check on her. You can see her tomorrow, all right?’

  Ben didn’t answer. It wasn’t all right. But he wasn’t allowed in the girls’ block and there’d be people still fussing round Sam or checking on her. He’d go over later.

  For now he went back to the junior boys’ social room, where he found Charlie Kleb and Big Jim sitting pale-faced.

  ‘How’s Sam?’ Big Jim asked Ben as soon as he came in.

  ‘Mr Magill says she’s fine. Sleeping.’

  ‘Talk about fits,’ Charlie said. ‘What got into her, do you think? You should have heard her scream.’

  ‘It was the box,’ Big Jim said quietly. ‘When the man opened the box and tilted it so we could see inside.’

  Ben swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. ‘The box,’ he said, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. ‘You have to tell me – what did she see? What was in the box?’

  Big Jim and Charlie looked at each other.

  ‘That’s just it,’ Charlie said. ‘There wasn’t anything. Nothing at all.’

  Big Jim nodded. ‘That’s right. The box was completely empty.’

  *

  After the evening snack – which he didn’t really feel like eating – Ben went to ask if he could see Sam. If Mr Magill was in the staff room, maybe he’d relent and let Ben see his sister tonight – even if she was still asleep.

  Ben wasn’t sure if Sam’s sudden ‘illness’ had anything to do with the man in the suit and his strange wooden box. What had Sam seen inside the empty box? He wondered if the doctor had been yet, and if so what he had said. Mr Magill would tell him.

  Except that the staff-room door was closed and no one answered when he knocked. It was late – the day staff must have gone home. The residential staff would be supervising the children. Or at the pub in the village. Or maybe looking after Sam. The girls’ block might be out of bounds, but no one could blame Ben for wanting to see his sister when she was ill, could they?

  There was a walkway connecting the old house to the new block. Ben ran through it as quickly as he could, because it was open and exposed. The sides were made of glass, so it was also cold in the winter and hot in the summer. But he’d sneaked into Sam’s room enough times before to know all the possible hiding places along the way. He might be sure they’d let him see Sam, but he didn’t want to ask or explain unless he had to.

  The other end of the walkway opened into a foyer with doors leading to the downstairs rooms and a staircase up to the bedrooms. Sam’s room was on the second floor.

  Ben had only set foot on the first step when he heard someone coming down. Their heels clacked loudly and rhythmically on the concrete steps. A grown-up, by the sound of it. The stairs were fixed on the wall side only. The other side was open, so Ben hurried to hide in the stairwell. He pressed into the shadows, sure that whoever it was wouldn’t see him unless they came looking.

  He could see the shadow cast across the foyer as the person came down – elongated, thin and gangly. Unmistakably Miss Haining. Ben knew even before he heard her voice.

  There was no one with her, so he guessed she was on her mobile.

  ‘He was here, tonight, just like you said … With the box you described.’ She paused, evidently listening. Then: ‘Yes, yes, he did the test … Only one, a girl …’

  She must mean Sam. Who was she talking to? Not the man in the suit who’d brought the box, obviously. Someone else, someone who knew about the box but who hadn’t been at the assembly. Ben leaned out, straining to hear but desperate not to be seen. Miss Haining was standing at the bottom of the stairs as she spoke.

  ‘That’s right. The girl I told you about, the one in the drawing you showed me … He’s coming back tomorrow morning, so you’ll have to be quick if you want her …’

  Ben almost gasped out loud. What was going on?

  ‘A thousand – like we agreed.’

  Miss Haining ended the call and pushed through one of the doors from the foyer. The door banged shut behind her and Ben could hear her heels clicking on the floor beyond.

  He stood for a moment, thinking. But the more he thought, the less sense anything made. The test. The empty box. Some picture of Sam? The only thing he did understand was that Miss Haining had arranged for someone to come and see Sam. He didn’t like the sound of it. If anyone was going to be seeing Sam – whoever Miss Haining was speaking to, or the man in the suit – then Ben was going to be there to help her. He’d stay with her all night if necessary, to
keep her safe.

  Decision made, he ran back through the walkway and all the way through the old house until he reached his own dormitory.

  It was almost time for lights-out. Ben stuffed handfuls of clothes and his spare pillow down his bed, pulling the covers up. Then he turned out the bedside lamp and drew his curtain across.

  ‘Cover for me,’ he hissed at Jaz in the next cubicle.

  ‘Where you going?’ Jaz asked, looking up from his graphic novel.

  ‘I’m going to see if Sam’s OK.’

  ‘I heard about that. She threw a real wobbly. Say “hi” from me.’

  ‘Will do,’ Ben agreed. ‘If anyone comes looking, tell them I’ve gone to sleep. Say I was tired and upset and it’s best to leave me alone. Right?’ Jaz was back in his graphic novel. ‘All right. See you later.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ben muttered. ‘See you.’

  *

  Sam’s room was in darkness. Ben didn’t want to leave the door open to be able to see, so he turned on the bedside lamp. If a grown-up came in, they would assume another member of staff had done it – or perhaps that Sam had woken for a minute and turned it on herself.

  Sam looked calm and peaceful, sleeping easily. Her breathing was regular and Ben just stood listening to her for a while. He reached out tentatively and gently stroked her face. She felt warm and soft and safe.

  ‘Love you, Sam,’ he whispered, half expecting her to open her eyes and laugh. But she didn’t. The rhythm of her breathing continued uninterrupted.

  There was another bed in the room, though Sam didn’t share with anyone. The bed wasn’t made, but a grey cover was pulled up over the bare mattress. Ben sat down on the spare bed. He couldn’t just sit here all night, though. At some point someone would come and check on Sam. He needed somewhere to hide. But just for now …

  ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked quietly. ‘I know you’re asleep, but are you really asleep?’ No reaction. ‘You’ll stay with me, won’t you, Sam? Like we promised, remember? Like we promised by the lake?’