Free Nicking Time by T. Traynor Page B

trying to fire us up. “I’ll start! Have you heard the one about the headless…”
    “… soldier of Battlefield!” we chorus. “Yes, we have!”
    “Over and over and over again,” I add. It’s one of Hector’s favourites. We suspect it might be the only ghost story he knows.
    “We need some
new
ghost stories,” Skooshie sighs.
    “I’ve got one,” says Lemur.
    “Before you start, Lemur, are you sure (1) that wehaven’t heard it before and (2) that it’s genuinely scary? Not like that story of Bru’s about the thing he thought was under his bed.”
    “It
was
under my bed and it
was
scary. I was there and I was really scared. It didn’t
look
anything like a furry hat.”
    “No, you said – it looked like an alien.”
    “Yeah – it was all kind of WEAHH and BLEAHH.” Here Bru gives us a re-enactment of the hat-under- the-bed threat. We’ve heard this one lots of times before too. Some stories get better when you hear them again. Bru’s hat story isn’t one of them. It makes you appreciate the headless soldier option, and that’s saying something.
    “(1) yes and (2) yes,” says Lemur. “You haven’t heard it before and it is genuinely scary. Do you want to hear it?”
    “Go on then.” A good job he isn’t looking for enthusiasm.
    “I’m going to tell you why no one ever has or ever will build on this place where our den is…”
    “Wait – can we just fix this? I’m getting soaked.”
    We help Skooshie tighten up the roof cover. This makes the den a bit less dripped on and also darker.
    “Ready? It happened a long, long time ago. There used to be a big house here. A very big house, with a grand staircase – long, curving banisters you could slide down. And there wasn’t just one way up to each floor, there were little staircases at the back too: it was a perfect house for Hide and Seek. And there was a huge attic you could explore, full of forgotten junk and lost things and undiscovered treasures.
    “The house had grounds too – not just a garden with grass and flowers, but trees and bushes, with hidden tracks and secret places for brilliant dens. Where we’re sitting right now – our den – was part of the grounds of the big house.”
    “How come?” asks Bru, looking round. “There isn’t enough space for all that.”
    “The houses around here didn’t exist then,” Lemur explains. “No Stanmore Road, no May Terrace. Just this big house. Even Cathkin wasn’t built yet. A family called Lorredan lived here and it was called Mount Lorredan House. But twenty years after this story, the house was a ruin… Picture it: completely abandoned and crumbling, with walls you could hardly see under the ivy and brambles. Bats nesting in the bedrooms, cobwebs strung across the broken windows. Everything falling into decay…”
    Here he pauses, for a big dramatic effect. Honestly, he’s never happier than when he’s the centre of attention.
    “No one wanted to live in it. Because of what had happened there, they were too scared… In time, the story was forgotten, but people remembered the house and its name survived and became the name for the whole area.”
    “Mount Lorredan?” says Skooshie. “That’s not the name of the area. It’s Mount
Florida
, Lemur.”
    “I do know that, Skooshie,” says Lemur.
    “But
you
said the area was named after the house.” Skoosh doesn’t often get to correct Lemur and he’s feeling pretty good about this one.
    Bru gives him a kick to bring him back down to earth. “Lorredan – Florredan – Florida,” he says. “Chinese Whispers kind of thing.”
    “Aw. Get it.”
    “It’s not
actually
true, anyway – Lemur’s just making it up,” says Hector. “It’s part of the story.”
    “It
is
in fact true,” says Lemur, squaring up for an argument. “Do you
want
to hear the rest?”
    I elbow Hector to make him shut up. We don’t want Lemur going off in a huff, leaving us without entertainment. Has Hector forgotten how bored we