Something Strange in the Cellar



  Something Strange

  in the Cellar

  Lou Elliott Mystery Adventure Series: Book 3

  By

  George Chedzoy

  Something Strange in the Cellar

  Lou Elliott Mystery Adventure Series Book 3

  © George Chedzoy 2013

  All words in this novel are copyright George Chedzoy

  First published by George Chedzoy, March 28th, 2013

  All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is coincidental. Some, but not all, of the geographical locations described are real. Others are entirely fictional. The old farmhouse featured in this book on the moors above Mynytho does not exist in real life, but the moorland does and is well worth a visit.

  George Chedzoy is a freelance writer and novelist. He lives in North Wales with his wife and two young children.

  George’s blog at https://georgechedzoy.blogspot.com

  Twitter: @georgechedzoy

  Email: [email protected]

  When you’ve finished this book, please consider leaving a review:

  www.amazon.co.uk

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  LOU ELLIOTT MYSTERY ADVENTURES

  1: SMUGGLERS AT WHISTLING SANDS

  2: THE MISSING TREASURE

  3: SOMETHING STRANGE IN THE CELLAR

  4: Coming later in 2013

  To

  my wife Kate

  CONTENTS

  1 Back together at Abersoch

  2 Moorland walk

  3 A troubling tale

  4 Midnight adventure

  5 Terror in the night

  6 David is annoyed

  7 An interesting revelation

  8 Down in the cellar

  9 Lou gets suspicious

  10 Ghost on the cellar steps

  11 Quick thinking from Lou

  12 The ghosts return

  13 Drama in the garden pond

  14 They mustn’t escape!

  15 Jack and David make the others laugh

  Chapter 1: BACK TOGETHER AT ABERSOCH

  ‘I’M so glad we’re back together again,’ said Emily, her soft blue eyes shining as Lou made them a cup of hot chocolate in her woodland den. ‘I couldn’t wait for the autumn half-term holiday to come along. It seems like ages since we last met, but I suppose it isn’t really.’

  ‘It’s only a couple of months when you think about it. I can work it out to the day if you’re interested,’ said David, a stickler for getting facts right. ‘Now let me see, we spent six days camping in Staffordshire, which was the last week in August . . .’

  ‘No thanks, David, we don’t need to know exactly how many days, hours and minutes it was. Anyhow, we’re lucky to be reunited at Abersoch at all, I nearly didn’t make it,’ said Lou.

  David, his brother Jack and sister Emily stared at her in alarm.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ said Lou, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘I’m here aren’t I? Unless you think it was a ghost who just made you that round of delicious hot chocolate.’

  ‘It would have been a disaster if you hadn’t been able to come,’ said Jack, earnestly.

  Jack and Lou were both 12. They were the first to become friends out of the four of them. They had met by chance on the beach at the Welsh seaside resort of Abersoch in the first week of August. After that, Lou became firm friends with the three of them. With her they had gone on the trail of smugglers targeting the Welsh coast. Then, a week before the start of the new school year, David had persuaded the others to hunt for Anglo-Saxon treasure in Staffordshire.

  From the outset, Lou had been the leader of the pack. She was far more adventurous and worldly-wise than Jack, David and Emily. They admired her greatly and perhaps didn’t always realise that she admired them, too, although in different ways and for different reasons. Lou was an only child – and sometimes a lonely one. The others were the brothers and sisters she had never had.

  The children had been looking forward to meeting again in October and it was lovely to be back at Abersoch, in Lou’s den in woodland at the back of the caravan site where the others were staying with their parents, Paul and Liz Johnson. When they were last here, the leaves on the trees had been green. They had since turned into the many shades of autumn – orange, brown, yellow, red. It was a wonderful sight.

  But a holiday at Abersoch without Lou wouldn’t seem right.

  ‘What happened, Lou, why were you nearly not able to come?’ asked Emily. At 10, Emily was the baby of the group who had struggled to trust Lou at first but was now as devoted to her as the boys.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ sighed Lou, ‘which I won’t bore you with. Let’s just say that my mum and dad have proved to be even more annoying and useless than usual, and that takes some doing. Basically, they decided we weren’t going to come away for half-term hols to Abersoch after all. I went mad at them, as you might expect. We always come here for half-term and now that I’m friends with you three I was so looking forward to it.’

  ‘So what was the problem, Lou?’ asked David. Jack had fallen silent, contemplating how hugely disappointing it would have been if she hadn’t turned up.

  Lou flicked back her dark, shoulder-length hair, which had grown noticeably longer since August. A troubled look crossed her face.

  ‘My dad was offered a week of shifts working for the local newspaper, the Shropshire Star in Telford. He normally works from home as a freelance journalist but felt he couldn’t turn down regular work, even if it was only for a week. What was maddening was that he’d only been called in to help because one of their staff journalists was off for half-term and wanted to be with her kids. Of course, if he’s got to work from an office in Telford, he can’t come here and mum wouldn’t come without him and in any case, I wouldn’t want to come here just me and mum.’

  The others listened sympathetically. Lou had a dreadful mother – bad-tempered, slovenly, lazy, selfish and thoroughly uninterested in bringing up her only child. She was also a terrible cook. As for her father – he was pleasant enough but too busy trying to eke out a meagre living from his writing to be much use around the house or to look after Lou. No wonder she had turned out so feisty and independent.

  ‘Then how come you’re, erm, here?’ said Jack, puzzled.

  ‘I’ve travelled up by myself,’ said Lou, matter of factly. I took forty pounds pocket money I’d got saved in a drawer to pay for my rail fare and caught the train this morning from Church Stretton to Pwllheli. I had my bike with me so I cycled over to Abersoch. It was a long journey but it’s beautiful countryside all the way. I quite enjoyed it.

  ‘My parents have been out all day – at some kitchen exhibition in Birmingham. I’ve left them a note which they’ll see when they get back. So I’ll be staying in our little holiday cottage on my own – it will seem a bit odd but I’d rather be here with you lot for company than cooped up with my mother at home day after day.’

  ‘Won’t your mum and dad be furious?’ asked Emily, shocked. Lou had effectively run away! She couldn’t imagine doing any such thing but Lou was a wild child compared to her, always determined to get her own way.

  ‘Mum will huff and puff but dad won’t care – so long as I don’t lose the key to the cottage or accidentally burn it down or anything,’ replied Lou, sardonically. ‘He doesn’t mind what I do provided I’m no trouble to him.’

  ‘What about money for food?’ asked Jack, concerned.

  ‘I’ve got barely anything – I took what I needed for my fare, it was all I had. I’ve got a few tins with me,’ said Lou. ‘I’ll be ok – I’ll dig up some razor fish from the beach if need be, or we can go ou
t in the boat and try and catch something if you like.’

  ‘We can but we’ll also bring you food and you can eat with us in the caravan,’ said Jack. ‘You know my parents love seeing you.’

  Lou smiled. ‘I still remember the first meal I had with you in the caravan – roast chicken with all the trimmings. It was wonderful. Made me wish my mum could cook like yours. Anyway, if your parents will let you, you can come and stay with me at the cottage.’

  ‘We’ll try,’ said Jack, ‘although I think they’re wary of letting us too far out of their sight now, Lou – bearing in mind the last two scrapes we’ve got into!’

  ‘Clack!’ came a noisy, squawking voice at the entrance to the hidden cave. Apart from the children, only one other creature knew of its existence beneath a bank of rock deep within the wooded hillside – Joe the crow. He and Lou had become friends and often he would alight in front of the cave entrance to check on her. He also liked to check whether she had a few crumbs to spare from any available biscuit or butty. This time, his grey-black head tilted quizzically to one side, as if to say, where have you been?

  ‘Hello Joe,’ exclaimed Lou in delight. ‘So nice to see you again. I was telling the others, I nearly wasn’t able to get back this time – but here I am!’

  Joe squawked his approval and flapped his wings.

  Lou got to her feet from the rock floor of the cave. ‘I think Joe’s telling us it’s time we got out into the fresh air and went for a walk or something. Do you fancy a stroll on the beach and from there I’ll head back to the cottage?’

  ‘Erm yes, that would be great,’ said Jack, hesitantly, looking at his watch.

  Lou smiled. She could read him easily – in fact she could read most people within minutes of meeting them. It was difficult to hide anything from someone sharp and perceptive like her.

  ‘Don’t worry, I understand,’ she said. ‘You’ve only just got here, your mum and dad are bound to want to spend some time with you. I can’t have you all to myself. You get back to the caravan and have a cup of tea with them and hopefully we can meet sometime tomorrow?’

  Jack looked at her gratefully. ‘Thanks Lou, it’s as you say, they don’t want us disappearing into thin air within minutes of arriving. And mum has brought home-made scones which she’s determined to feed us on. Hey, why don’t you join us?’

  ‘No, not this time,’ replied Lou. ‘You settle in first and say hello from me to your mum and dad and that I’d love to see them again soon. Send me a text or something later and let me know if you’re ok to meet tomorrow or, if not, the next day. Come on, let’s walk back through the woods to the caravan site, then I’ll head off to the cottage.’

  ‘I know what I’d like to do tomorrow,’ said David, suddenly, as they strolled beneath the trees.

  ‘Don’t tell me, you want us to go back to Staffordshire, camp on some remote farmer’s field and seek out a third hoard of Anglo-Saxon treasure?’ said Lou, turning to him, eyes sparkling from beneath her fringe.

  The others chuckled and David’s freckled face reddened, as it often did when he was teased.

  ‘Hey listen, when you think about it those two amazing adventures we had in the summer started with you, David. It was you who first got us on the trail of the smugglers and it was your idea to search for Anglo-Saxon treasure,’ said Lou, grinning at him. ‘You ought to be proud of yourself. Go on then, what do you fancy doing tomorrow?’

  David was now looking rather pleased with himself. He and Jack loved getting compliments from Lou.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I was thinking we might go a walk across the moorland around that big hill above Mynytho. You can see for miles up there on a clear day. We could cycle round to your cottage, Lou, then all of us cycle to Mynytho, chain our bikes to the railings near the picnic area and head up that path next to the village school leading to the moorland.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Emily. ‘We could bring a picnic lunch and we’ll make sure there’s plenty of food for you, Lou, so you won’t go hungry.’

  It was unusual for David to suggest such strenuous physical activity. Before they had met Lou that summer, he rarely bothered to venture out of doors. Usually, his tousled mop of light brown hair was all that could be seen of him from behind a book. He had since become more outgoing, and was proud to boast more freckles on his face than his brother. In fact, apart from Jack being an inch taller and sturdier, it was not always easy to tell them apart.

  ‘That sounds great,’ said Lou, as they reached the edge of the wood where it bordered the garden of one of the caravans, ‘Right, I’ll get back to the cottage and hopefully, see you tomorrow. Text me later, Jack.

  ‘Oh and David, you’re not going to get us involved in another adventure on this moorland walk, I hope,’ added Lou, her eyes twinkling. ‘The point is, it’s always me who gets the blame from your parents about getting you all into scrapes!’

  The others slipped quietly through the caravan garden which extended high up the hill. It was an idyllic, private plot close to their own caravan – but could only be used for a short cut when the owners weren’t around, of course.

  ‘I do hope Lou will be ok,’ said Emily, as they walked through the gate to their parents’ caravan. ‘I’m worried about her staying in that holiday house of theirs alone. I can’t believe her parents would allow it.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like she gave them much choice. Let’s hope they don’t order her straight home. But if there is one thing which Lou is perfectly capable of doing, it is looking after herself,’ pointed out Jack.