Page 38 of Murder Most Haunted

Noah swung the torch over the group one at a time, causing Midge to blink like a mole.

‘Where’s Rona?’ asked Harold.

Which was when Midge realized that Rona’s hand was no longer holding on to hers. ‘She was here a minute ago,’ she said.

‘Rona!’ Noah shouted back down the tunnel. ‘Rona!’

‘Don’t shout!’ said Harold. ‘We don’t know how stable these tunnels are.’ Beside her, Midge could feel the rapid rise and fall of Noah’s chest as he started to cough.

‘The dust . . . and all that dirt, we’ll be inhaling it. It does terrible things to your lungs,’ he said, before, to Midge’s horror, he produced her canary handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his mouth. ‘And then there’s the germs.’

‘The really dangerous particles are too small to be blocked by cloth,’ pointed out Midge, which for some inexplicable reason made Noah groan even more. She hoped he wasn’t going to be sick again. ‘Can anyone remember when they last saw Rona?’

‘She’ll be messing about, that’s all. Come on, Rona – stop playing silly buggers!’ Harold hissed.

‘This isn’t funny,’ agreed Noah, wheezing.

‘Let’s start to make our way back,’ said Harold. ‘She’s probably turned round and headed back for some fresh air.’

And then a scream echoed through the tunnel.

‘Rona!’ shouted Midge, instantly forgetting to keep her voice low. ‘She’s in pain!’

The others ran on ahead towards the noise, leaving Midge temporarily in the dark and moving slowly because of her cane. She fumbled and felt her way towards the noise, taking a sharp right turn before stumbling on to the rest of the group.

Rona was lying on the ground with rocks strewn around her from where a section of roof had collapsed. Her leg was sticking outwards at an awkward angle.

‘My leg!’ she moaned, her face pale in the torchlight.

‘I think her ankle may be broken.’ Harold was on his knees next to her and lightly pressing the skin.

‘I saw her.’ Rona was pointing back down the tunnel. ‘The ghost. She wanted me to follow her.’

‘She’s delirious.’ Harold peered into her eyes. ‘She may have hit her head when she fell.’

‘How lucky to see the ghost,’ breathed Noah, pulling the hankie down from his mouth.

‘I nearly got her,’ cried Rona. ‘But then I tripped on something on the ground. Owwww . . . it hurts!’ she gasped.

‘Try to keep the leg still,’ said Harold.

‘Where did you see her?’ Noah had started to move off down the tunnel, his cloak fluttering behind him.

‘Come back here!’ called Midge. ‘The last thing we need is you disappearing as well. We need to get Rona back to the house before the rest of the roof gives in.’

Harold waved a hand at her. ‘Maggie, can you walk without your cane? If Rona can bear it, she may be able to get back to the house using your stick. Is that OK?’

It absolutely was not OK for Rona to use her cane.

Midge couldn’t for the life of her think of anything worse.

Borrowing a person’s cane was akin to sharing underwear, but she had the sinking feeling that this wasn’t the answer expected of her.

Grudgingly, she handed it over to Harold, who said, ‘We may have to cut this boot off, though – the ankle is starting to swell.’

‘Don’t you bloody dare!’ cried Rona, her eyes flying open.

‘You’ve got more chance of cutting her whole leg off,’ said Noah. ‘Let’s see if she can stand.’

Reaching down, Harold picked up a piece of white material from the ground next to them.

Recognizing her canary handkerchief, which had evidently fallen to the floor, Midge was just about to reclaim it when, to her horror, Harold shoved it into Rona’s mouth, saying, ‘Bite down on this, if the pain is too bad.’

Midge had to turn away at the sight of her lazy daisy being gripped between Rona’s teeth.

After a few groans, Rona was suddenly upright, balancing unsteadily on her one good leg. ‘I can’t . . . it’s just too painful.’

‘It’s OK, Rona,’ soothed Harold. ‘Me and Noah will have to take turns giving you a piggyback.’

‘No, we won’t,’ said Noah, stroking his cloak. ‘This fur edging has to be dry-cleaned.’

‘I’ll take you on my back,’ said Harold, fussing over Rona like a mother hen. Midge thought again of the press cuttings she’d found him clutching, and felt a pang of unease. ‘Give her a lift up, Noah,’ Harold went on. Within seconds, he had hold of her as she draped her arms over his shoulders.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Harold,’ groaned Rona.

Midge had suddenly noticed something else on the ground where Rona had fallen. It was shiny and smooth. Something that looked very out of place. She frowned. ‘Can I borrow the torch a moment?’

She shone it down, while Harold tried a couple of steps with Rona. The light bounced off something white.

It was a bone. And there were many more of them scattered around.

‘Oh my God!’ screamed Rona, struggling against Harold as she stared in horror at the ground. ‘Is that human fucking bones? Get me out, please!’ she sobbed. ‘GET ME OUT!’

‘It will be a sheep or something,’ shouted Harold, trying to be heard above the racket until Rona suddenly stopped screaming.

Noah peered round at her. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘I think she’s passed out.’