Page 43 of The Memory Wood

The candle holder is beside the rucksack. It already contains a stub, so Elissa locates the matches. She’s just about to strike one when a light winks on from a source near the far wall.

Gasping, she drops the match and scoots backwards. Although the light isn’t strong, it’s bright enough to disorient her. She shields her eyes, realizing with nausea that she’s had company all along.

‘You were talking,’ Elijah says softly. ‘After you went unconscious.’

Elissa takes a moment to compose herself. When she speaks, her voice is barely a croak. ‘What did I say?’

‘Creepy stuff.’

That he stayed in the cell while she was out cold – that he didn’t announce himself immediately when she woke – feels like the most grotesque intrusion. But she won’t benefit by mentioning it. ‘Like what?’

‘“Hallowe’en eyes. Hallowe’en eyes watching out, watching out for me.” I didn’t like it.’

She couldn’t give a damn whether he liked it or not, but hearing the dream words makes her shiver. Suddenly, she realizes how cold she is. ‘Thanks,’ she tells him. ‘For doing what you did.’

‘That’s OK.’

‘I mean it, Elijah. You didn’t have to help. I know you’re taking a risk, coming down here.’

‘It can be our secret. A game.’

‘Yes,’ she replies. Sensing his enthusiasm, she adds, ‘Like we’re characters in a story.’

‘I likethat,’ he says. ‘That’s good. That’sreallygood.’ She hears him snatch up something from the floor and begin to fiddle with it. ‘Who would we be?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. But we’d definitely be goodies.’

‘Well, I’m not a baddie.’

‘I know you’re not, not you, Elijah. You helped me, remember?’ Her lips widen, into what she hopes looks like a genuine smile. ‘We’d … we’d be brother and sister.’

The object Elijah plucked from the floor whispers in his fingers. ‘Huh,’ he says. ‘I never had a sister.’

‘Brother and sister, like … like …’ Then inspiration strikes. ‘Like the kids in that fairy tale. Hansel and Gretel.’

Elijah laughs, delighted. ‘I’m Hansel and you’re Gretel! Which … which makes this … theGingerbreadHouse!’

His amusement – so at odds with her situation – ischilling, but she feels like she’s on to something so she perseveres. ‘I keep wondering what this place looks like above ground. Now I won’t be able to get the image of gingerbread walls out of my head.’

‘It doesn’t look anything likethatup there,’ he replies. ‘I wish it did. There’s atreegrowing in the front room, for goodness’ sake.’

‘Gingerbread walls, icing-sugar windows and a roof made of chocolate, fixed in place with gloopy toffee.’

Elijah chuckles. ‘The walls are stone, the windows are all broken and Papa’s stripped most of the tiles off the roof.’

Elissa knows she should go on talking, but that last bit has frozen her voice. Through her game, she’s caught him off guard, and what he’s revealed could be key.

Papa’s stripped most of the tiles off the roof.

She clears her throat, sparking a coughing fit so severe she fears she’ll be sick.

‘What’s wrong?’ Elijah asks. His torch beam stutters, as if attuned to his unease.

‘Nothing. Just … I don’t know. Coming down with something, I guess. These last few days, I’ve eaten hardly anything.’

‘Do you like pecan-nut biscuits?’

‘This isn’t really the Gingerbread House.’

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