Nettle Blackthorn and the Three Wicked Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page A

use your bed sheets and blankets from Bessie before we wash the
linen cupboard.”
    “But,
the rest of the house is a mess.”
    “Sure,
but we’ve got Bessie to eat and cook in until we can sort out the
cottage properly.” He waved his hand about in the way that said his
decision was final, and went back to sifting through the mess in
the living room.
    This
time, Nettle shared her cousin’s scepticism.
    M uch
later, she realized her father had been quite clever in redirecting
her from any further questions regarding her mother.

CHAPTER THREE
    Rats
in the Walls
     
     
    The cottage at night was definitely creepy, Bram decided.
He lay on his mattress that they’d dragged up from Bessie and set up on
the floor of his old nursery - the cot being far too short for him.
With the sheets tucked up under his chin, he couldn’t sleep.
Instead, he lay awake, his heart skittering at every eerie and
unexpected noise of a house breathing at night.
    The
gnarled old ash tree caught the surges of wind and clawed at the
bedroom window, while the cottage’s wooden floor cricked and
groaned. Clouds partially obscured the moon, creating sinister
shadows which skulked across the walls of Bram’s bedroom and
exaggerated the little carving of a gnome into a leering demonic
grimace, sending a shiver down Bram’s spine.
    Bram’s
nose crinkled in distaste. Despite having the window open all
afternoon to air the bedroom out, it still smelt musty. He buried
his face into his pillow and breathed in the familiar smells of
Bessie. He missed her. This room, this house, was far too big to
feel at ease in. He’d spent pretty much all his life in Bessie. The
motor-home was tiny for a family to be living permanently within,
but she was cosy, and more importantly he’d always felt safe.
Tonight was the first time, since a baby, he’d slept in a proper
bedroom, in a proper house, and he didn’t like it.
    Suddenly, Bram sat upright. Goosebumps prickled across his
shoulders and down his arms. His stomach lurched nauseously. What was
that? He
strained to listen in the silence of the room for where the sound
had come from. There was nothing, not a single noise for a lengthy
moment.
    Bram quietly shook his head, smiling, quite
relieved. Stupid, stupid, he called himself, and leaned back into his
mattress.
    The n
it came again: a pitter-patter, scuttling and
scratching.
    Bram sat back up. The loud scurrying came from between the walls of the
house. Bram rolled out of bed quickly and quietly. He pressed his
ear against the wall.
    Rats, he thought. He heard a series of squeaks and
squeals, definitely more than just one rat, he surmised. The critters sounded as
if they were passing through the very wall his ear was pressed
upon. A solid thud landed against the wall, jolting Bram from his
position. He stuffed a hand into his mouth stifling the shriek of
fright. And then almost immediately splayed his fingers across his
lips to stop the giggles at his absurd reaction.
    Along with the scampering feet , it sounded as if they were dragging
something between them, something metallic judging by the odd sound
of clinking. Besides that, his brow furrowing, for a moment, he
swore he’d heard the word – “lost.” Then again, maybe it was the
wind.
    Nettle
was fast asleep in her four poster bed, when Bram dove in beside
her. “Bram,” she groggily slurred, “what are you doing?”
    “Ugh,”
he shivered. “Rats in the walls, and either them or the wind is
talking to me. I’m not sleeping in there alone.”
    Nettle
shared her pillow with him, and rolled over to her side, her
eyelids closing heavily. “Oh, OK.” A moment later she was fast
asleep.
    Bram was
wide awake. He lay there listening to his sister slumber. Since
learning of their impending return to Blackthorn Cottage, his
thoughts had turned more and more upon his mother, and tonight was
no exception. “Nettle?”
    It took
a moment or two, and a dig in the ribs, before she was