'But you still came. Even though you knew we'd get into trouble if we got caught.' She shuddered, remembering how easily they had become lost and the mysterious black holes in the ground.

'I couldn't let you wander off alone,' said Fabian, his eyes darkening. 'People have disappeared in there.'

'I know. I read about one of them, a girl with an unusual name. Something Bloom.'

'It was Morwenna.'

'That's it,' said Tanya. 'Morwenna Bloom. I read about her in a newspaper cutting that fell out of one of the books in the library.'

'What did it say?' asked Fabian, interested all of a sudden.

'It just said she had vanished in the woods and that people thought she had fallen into one of the catacombs,' said Tanya. 'Surely you know the story? You knew her name.'

'I was just making sure it was the same person. So many people have gone missing it's hard to remember all of them.' Fabian removed his gla.s.ses and polished them on his grubby shirt. 'She was the youngest person ever to disappear in those woods. It was because of her that the railings were put up.' He paused and replaced his gla.s.ses. 'I suppose you know she was Florence's best friend?'

'What?' said Tanya. 'But I showed her the cutting she didn't say anything about being best friends.' She remembered the strange look on her grandmother's face now it made sense. 'She said they used to be friends but had drifted apart. Are you sure they were best friends?'

'Positive,' said Fabian. 'I've overheard her talking to Warwick about it more than once but whenever I come into the room they stop. It probably brought back too many memories. Maybe it traumatised her maybe she finds it too painful to talk about.'

Tanya was silent, flooded with guilt. 'How many people have disappeared in the woods, then?' she asked finally, unable to contain her own morbid curiosity.

'Loads,' said Fabian. 'Obviously not as many since the railings have been there, but still a few. Mainly it was poachers from Tickey End, or people pa.s.sing through. There are probably numerous others that are unaccounted for though. Travellers, gypsies and the like. Too many cats and dogs to count.

'And the holes aren't really catacombs.' Fabian walked to the sink to wash his hands. 'A "catacomb" is defined as an ancient burial chamber. The holes are actually called deneholes. There are quite a few of them scattered over the country, especially in the south of England. Over the years people began to refer to them as the catacombs because so many people vanished there.'

'That's horrible,' she said. She joined Fabian at the sink and caught sight of herself in a small tilting mirror on the windowsill. Her face was tearstained and dirty, and her hair hung in tangles.

'Listen,' said Fabian, in a low voice. 'There's something I want to show you, but you've got to promise not to say anything to Warwick or Florence.'

'Say anything about what?'

'I found something up on the second floor. I wasn't sure if I could trust you until today.'

'What did you find?' Tanya asked.

Fabian shook his head. 'Promise first.'

'Fine, I promise,' said Tanya, irritated. 'I barely speak to either of them anyway.'

Fabian checked the hallway.

'Let's go up there now it looks like Warwick's gone straight back out again.'

'Fabian,' Tanya began. 'After what we've been through today can you just tell me what it is first so I can decide if it's worth the effort? I'm tired and fed up, and I'm not going on some harebrained mission before I've had a shower and got changed.'

Fabian's blue eyes danced with mischief.

'It's worth the effort, I promise you.'

'Give me ten minutes,' she said with a sigh. 'I'll meet you up there.'

The second floor was even dustier than the rest of the house, on account that usually Amos and Warwick were the only people who ventured up there. Mounted on the wall at the top of the stairs was the head of a majestic stag. This was only the second time Tanya had seen it, but both times, as she looked into its sad brown eyes, it made her want to weep. She dropped her gaze, concentrating on the threadbare carpet until she reached the top of the stairs. Fabian was waiting in a small, darkened alcove in which a chair sat in front of a dingy wall tapestry.

'This is it.'

Tanya examined the filthy old tapestry that hung from floor to ceiling against the wall. Apart from its size it was nondescript, and so faded and dusty that it was impossible to make out what it was actually of.

'Wow,' Tanya said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Fabian pursed his lips. 'Not the tapestry, idiot. What's behind it.'

Tanya gave him a look and pulled the tapestry back. A door of solid oak lay behind it, set back into the wall.

'When did you find this?'

'Yesterday. I can't believe I never knew it was here before.'

'Well, no one really comes up here,' said Tanya. 'Even when we used to search the house for the secret pa.s.sages we never checked the second floor. We were always too afraid of coming up here. Where does it lead?'

'That's what we're about to find out,' said Fabian.

'Oh, I get it. You were too scared to investigate on your own.'

'Actually, no,' Fabian said coolly. 'The door is locked.'

'So how do you propose we get through it?'

'With this.' From his pocket, Fabian produced an ancient-looking key. 'It's a skeleton key. It'll open every door in the house.'

'I know what a skeleton key is,' Tanya snapped. 'But what are you doing with it?'

'I borrowed it. From Warwick.'

'You mean you stole it. There's no way he'd let you use that.'

'Whatever. Let's just make the most of it before he realises it's missing.'

He inserted the key into the door. It gave a soft click as he turned it. 'See?' he whispered triumphantly. 'Good as new. Come on.'

As Fabian pushed the door open a waft of damp, musty air descended upon them. He stepped through the darkened doorway, beckoning for Tanya to follow.

'What is it?' she asked, moving forward. 'A room?'

Fabian pressed a finger to his lips as Tanya came through the doorway into complete darkness. She stood waiting awkwardly as he carefully arranged the tapestry to its correct position and then closed the door softly behind them.

'Now we can't see a thing!' she hissed.

'Wait,' said Fabian, and she could hear him fumbling in his pockets in the darkness. There was a small click and then there was light. Fabian stood grinning, holding a small, but obviously powerful, pocket torch.

'I knew this would come in useful one day.'

As her eyes adjusted, Tanya could see that it was not a room they were standing in but a narrow pa.s.sage that led off to the left and the right. To the right there was a set of stairs leading up.

Fabian shone the torch at the walls. 'It's damp in here.'

'And the air is bad, too,' said Tanya, wrinkling her nose. 'I wonder what this pa.s.sage was used for . . . maybe this is one of the secret pa.s.sages.'

'It would've been hidden a lot better than that if it was meant to be secret,' Fabian said scornfully. 'I think it's the old servants' staircase.'

'But I thought it had been blocked off,' said Tanya.

'It is. Or at least, the main entrance in the kitchen is. Florence had it all blocked in years ago she said it would prevent so much heat escaping in the winter.'

'I thought the entire staircase was blocked off though,' said Tanya. 'I didn't realise that it was only partially filled in.'

'Nor did I.'

'Which way should we go?'

Fabian aimed the torch at the flight of stairs. 'We're already on the highest floor, so those steps must lead up to the attic. I think we should go this way.' He pointed the torch at the corridor that led off to the left, lifting the light to the walls. Huge patches of mould had formed from years of moisture in the air. A flash of light dazzled Tanya's eyes.

'What was that?'

'The light from the torch reflected off a window,' said Fabian.

'Window?'

'Look closely and you can see the ivy has grown over it that's why there's no light.'

He was right. As Tanya looked at the window, filthy with years of grime, she could see the ma.s.s of entangled leaves growing wildly over the gla.s.s from the outside, virtually blocking out all daylight.

Fabian took a step further into the hallway. 'Be careful. This pa.s.sage is very old. It might not be completely safe.'

They began to edge into the darkness tentatively, the wooden floor groaning under their weight. Things scuffled in the woodwork, and Tanya found herself wondering whether it was mice or fairies and trying to decide which would be worse.

They had only walked a short distance when he stopped.

'There's a door on my left.' He rattled it. 'It's locked.'

'Try the key,' Tanya suggested.

Fabian bent down and shone the tiny torch into the keyhole. 'I think the key is in the lock on the other side.'

'So use the skeleton key to push it out.'

'That won't work,' said Fabian. 'Because we might need the key that's on the other side. Not all the doors have the original locks.'

'Come on then,' said Tanya. 'Let's see if there are any more doors further on.'

'Wait.' Fabian handed her the torch and began to rummage through his pockets again.

'What are you doing?' Tanya asked, watching as he removed a folded sheet of paper and a small reel of wire.

'Oldest trick in the book,' Fabian muttered, unfolding the paper.

As Tanya looked more closely, it was evident that the piece of paper had been folded and unfolded many times. It was limp and the creases were well worn.

'What's that for?' she asked again, but Fabian did not answer. He was now busy unravelling the wire and twisting it into a thin p.r.o.ng of about four inches.

'That should do it.'

He placed the paper at the foot of the door, then slowly slid it through the gap underneath and on to the other side, leaving an inch or so still visible. Carefully, he took the wire and inserted it into the keyhole very slowly. After wiggling it about for a few seconds there was a small thud, then Fabian pulled on the sheet of paper until it reappeared under the door with the key sitting neatly in the middle of it.

'That's brilliant!' said Tanya, staring at the key in amazement.

'Not really,' said Fabian, with a modest grin. 'I read about it once in an old detective novel. It's just common sense.'

Tanya eyed the well-folded piece of paper.

'You've obviously done it before.'

Fabian picked up the key and the paper, which he folded again and put carefully back into his pocket. 'Once or twice. Although if the key doesn't land right, it can bounce off the sheet of paper. We were lucky this time.' He fitted the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened and the two of them stepped into a small, dark room.

As with the secret staircase, there was no light from the window; it was completely wreathed with ivy from the outside. An ornately carved wooden chest stood beneath the window, coated in a grey blanket of dust. There was a huge wardrobe in the corner, one of its doors open slightly as if someone had left the room in a hurry and never again returned. In the centre of the room stood a beautiful crib, complete with a crocheted set of bedclothes that had been hastily turned back. Abandoned in the crib lay a tiny, raggedy bear, and as Tanya reached in and gently picked it up, she saw a jagged rip through which a dirty lump of stuffing protruded.

'It was a nursery,' she said.

Something moved within the bear's stuffing. With a surprised squeak, Tanya flung it back into the crib.

'What's the matter?' Fabian asked.

'I think there are mice nesting in here.'

'Pretty creepy room, if you ask me,' said Fabian, lifting the lid of the chest. A cloud of dust shot into the air, causing him to sneeze three times in quick succession. Inside the chest there was another bear, several dolls and an old spinning top. A jack-in-the-box lay broken, its spring full of rust.

'You're right,' said Tanya, feeling a sudden shiver. 'It is creepy.'

'I never knew this room was here,' said Fabian, moving towards the main door. 'I wonder whereabouts we are?'

He opened the door cautiously and Tanya heard him exclaim.

'Come and look at this.'

She moved closer to the door and looked where Fabian was pointing the torch.

The doorway was barred by a large area of solid wood.

'It's the back of the dresser . . . it's been moved in front of the door. Someone went to a lot of effort to make sure this room was never found.'