This House is Haunted by John Boyne Read Free Book Online

and I could hear the sound of a second train approaching. Or was it just behind me? It was hard to know. I turned round and gasped; which way should I walk? There was noise everywhere. I reached a hand out, trying to feel my way along, but nothing was where I expected it to be. The sound of voices began to grow louder around me and now there were people again, pushing past with their suitcases and valises, and how could they see where they were going, I wondered, when I could not even see my own hand stretched out before my face? I had not felt so unsettled since the afternoon in the graveyard, and a panic rose inside me, a sense of great terror and foreboding, and I thought that if I did not march forward with intent, then I would be left on this platform for ever, unable to see or breathe, and that I should live out my days here. And so, taking my heart in my hands, I lifted my right foot and started to press forward once again just as a great whistling noise—the sound of the second train—increased to a violent scream and to my horror I felt a pair of hands on my back, pushing me forward with a sharp thrust, and I stumbled, ready to fall headlong just as a third hand gripped my elbow, pulled me back quickly, and I stumbled over my feet towards a wall where, almost immediately, the fog began to disperse a little and I could make out the man who had dragged me so violently from where I had been standing.
    “Good God, miss,” he said, and I could see his face now; it was kindly and fine-featured; he wore a rather elegant pair of spectacles. “Didn’t you see where you were going?” he asked. “You nearly stepped out in front of a train. You would have been killed.”
    I stared at him in confusion and then looked back towards the place from which he had pulled me and sure enough the second train was screeching to a halt. Had I made another step forward I would have fallen beneath it and been crushed to death. I felt faint at the idea.
    “I didn’t mean to—” I began.
    “Another moment and you would have been under it.”
    “Someone pushed me,” I said, staring directly into his face. “A pair of hands. I felt them.”
    He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I was watching you. I could see which way you were going. There wasn’t anyone behind you.”
    “But I felt them,” I insisted. I stared at the platform, swallowed hard and turned back to him. “I felt them!” I repeated.
    “You’ve had a shock, that’s all,” said the man, apparently dismissing this idea, and me as an hysteric. “Can I get you anything for your nerves? I’m a doctor, you see. Some sweet tea perhaps? There’s a little shop over there, it’s nothing much of course but—”
    “I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head and trying to compose myself. He must be right, I decided. If he was watching and there was no one there, then I must have imagined it. It was the fog, that was all. It was playing games with my mind. “I must apologize,” I said finally, trying to laugh the incident away. “I don’t know what came over me. I felt quite dizzy. I couldn’t see anything.”
    “Good job I caught you,” he replied, grinning at me, displaying a very even set of white teeth. “Oh dear,” he added. “That does sound terribly pompous, doesn’t it? Like I’m hoping that you’ll pin a medal for bravery on my lapel.”
    I smiled; I liked him. A ridiculous thought occurred to me. That he would say that I should abandon the idea of Gaudlin altogether and come with him instead. Where? I did not know. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. What was wrong with me that day? First the young man on the train and now this. It was as if I had taken leave of all my morals.
    “Oh, here’s my wife now,” he said after a moment and I turned to see a young, pretty woman approaching us, an expression of concern on her face as her husband explained what had just happened. I tried to smile.
    “You should come home with us,”