THE RIDDLE OF RAMSEY HALLS
a rare sight in these parts of the country, had dipped
into the ground hours ago. Adam had been in bed for what seemed
like an eternity but he was still wide awake, his eyes fixed on the
high ceiling. It was nights like this when he tried to count all
the flowers on the cornicing, but as always he had lost count
before reaching twenty.
    He pulled the
covers over his head and looked into the darkness. Sometimes he
imagined a whole world resided in there. Creatures of no known
species would mine for fairstone, a pink gem that was priceless in
the human world. Or goblins that were half cat, half reptile would
roam in the blackness looking for innocent people to prey upon.
    His father was
right in that he had a rogue imagination but it wasn’t his fault.
Adam’s grandfather was the explorer Sir Lionel Collins, and he
often came back from the tropics with outlandish tales of adventure
and conquest. Someday he’d like to grow up and be just like his
grandfather. He’d travel the world and see that people were
protected from diseases. That way no one could die like his big
sister had.
    Of course he
never met Mathilda. He was born after she passed away. But he’d
often heard a faraway giggle in a corner of the attic, the one
where his father’s moth collection lay. Once he’d seen a flicker of
blonde hair as it blew around a closing door, like a flame blowing
in the wind. But then it was gone and when he went to investigate,
he found himself staring into an empty hallway.
    Footsteps
sounded somewhere in the hall and Adam popped his head out the
covers. He thought for a moment they belonged to his mother with
their lightness, but then he heard the knock. Only one person in
this house did that.
    “Come in
Mildred,”
    “Hello my
little kitten,” I held out a tray to him. “I managed to pilfer you
some cheese, bread and an apple,”
    He sat bolt
upright, snatching the cheese first and then the bread.
    “Thank you,” he
sang, his cheeks growing chubby and stuffed as he spoke.
    “Slow down my
little one,” I laughed as I rested on the end of the bed. “Or
you’ll get a tummy ache,”
    But he ignored
me and continued to chomp away. After a few minutes he rubbed at
his stomach, his little hand running in a circle.
    “Have you had
enough now?”
    He nodded.
    “Will you help
me find the crumbs though?” he looked up to me. “Mother’s always
finding the crumbs,”
    “Very well,”
and I proceeded to dust down the covers with my hand.
    But something
caught my attention. It was the boy’s sudden furtive movements as
he remembered something. He hurried to crouch into the corner at
the top of his bed.
    “What is
troubling you my darling?” I reached out a hand he refused to
take.
    He had a look
on his face as though some tremendous and terrifying thought had
swept over him.
    “How do I know
you didn’t put anything in the food?”
    “Oh my
sweetheart….” I began to say before he interrupted.
    “ How do I
know?” he started to become tearful. “The last time you put
something in the pudding I was poorly for days and mother blamed me
for climbing in the apothecary cabinet,”
    “I did no such
thing,” I looked away ashamed. “Not this time anyway,”
    My lies were
obvious, my cheeks growing crimson despite the fact there was no
blood in me. Adam’s eyes were wide in terror and I wanted to grab
hold of him, tell him everything would be ok.
    “You keep
saying you love me,” his teeth were chattering. “But then you hurt
me and I don’t understand,” the tears were flowing now.
    I wanted to
wipe them away with the end of my apron but the laws of God
wouldn’t permit it. If I were to touch him he wouldn’t feel a
thing.
    “I only want
what’s best for you,” I fiddled with my skirt. “Someday you’ll
understand,”
    “I don’t think
I will,” his voice was weak as it echoed through the room.
    Meandering back
out the door I blew him a kiss as I left.
    “Sleep
well,”
    But he was
already hiding under

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