Shirley

Coughlin

THE GIRL IN THE MIRROR

Copyright Shirley Coughlin

The right of Shirley Coughlin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. ISBN 978 1 84963 185 3 www.austinmacauley.com First Published (2012) Austin & Macauley Publishers Ltd. 25 Canada Square Canary Wharf London E14 5LB Printed & Bound in Great Britain

For my grandchildren.

Prologue

2010
Stephanie Harris closed the garden gate and walked along the footpath. She was just popping up to the shops to get some milk for her mother. The day was fine for the time of the year, though the air was still rather chilly. Lost in her own thoughts, she didnt notice the white van cruise slowly around the corner from behind. It pulled up slightly in front of her and a man jumped out of the passenger side. Still, she took little notice until the man casually opened the sliding door on the side of the van; he looked quickly around before stepping in front of her. And then before Stephanie had time to react, the short, fat man slapped a hand across her mouth and dragged her into the van, slamming shut the door. The vehicle took off fast, sending them both flying across the floor. Stephanie screamed as she bounced off the wall. The man quickly scrambled to his feet and pinned Stephanie to the floor of the van with one knee while he pulled a thin cord from out of his pocket and tied her hands behind her

back. He then took out a grubby handkerchief binding it tight around her eyes and plunging her into darkness. Stephanie screamed once more in terror. Let me go, you beast, she yelled. Now luv, mind your language, the man laughed. You behave yourself and we might let you live for now, anyways, he laughed again. Now shut yer gob, or Ill have to shut it for yer. Stephanie cringed, trembling in fear, her breath catching in great sobs as her life flashed before her eyes.

Chapter One

1960
Mandy Smith nearly always walked home from school through the village. It was slightly longer than if she had cut round through the lane that ran behind the shops and then across the fields which took her directly to her house, an old rambling cottage built in the late eighteenth century, but she didnt mind. The reason Mandy liked to go through the village was so she could look in the window of the second-hand shop situated on the corner not far from her school. On most days there were always lots of exciting things appearing in the window. Sometimes, if she had time she would go in and browse. Saving her pocket money each week she would even on occasion purchase a small item. Mr. Wilmot, who by Mandys reckoning looked to be about a hundred years old, even older if that were at all possible, came to know Mandy well. They would have long conversations which sometimes lasted much longer than she realised and her older brother Wayne, who was fourteen, would be sent to bring her home for tea.

Mandys mum was exasperated with her, but realised there were worse things in life than being interested in old bits and pieces from another era, and at least she knew where she was. Not only that, but Mandy seemed to have quite a good eye for picking up quality items, considering her age, after all she was only twelve. This particular afternoon Mandy ran into the shop quite breathless; it was pouring with rain outside and she had run all the way from school. The bell over the door jangled noisily as she entered the dim interior, causing Mr. Wilmot to look up from what he was doing. Good afternoon Miss Smith, youve arrived just in time. I was about to unpack a box of odds and ends that was brought into me by Mrs. Timms, the housekeeper from the old Westerly mansion which is being sold after Mr. Westerly passed away last month. All the furniture was sold a few days ago and these are the items that nobody seems to want, would you care to assist me? Mandys eyes lit up at once as she dumped her school bag on the floor and took her raincoat off, hanging it across the back of a chair. The box was rather large and was stuffed full of bric-a-brac, between them they took out lots of small vases, some quite pretty, others just plain glass, and one nice cut crystal. Small ornaments, some plates and odd cups and saucers, none of which matched, all were wrapped carefully in newspaper. Finally, right down at the bottom of the box Mandy pulled out a rather heavy object, carefully un-wrapping the paper she held up an old tarnished, silver hand-mirror, she gasped; it was quite lovely.

Mr. Wilmot took the mirror from Mandy turning it over and examined it carefully. Some silver polish would bring it up quite nicely I should think Mandy, he said, handing it back to her. Mandy took the mirror across to the counter. Reaching underneath she pulled out the tin of silver polish and a soft cloth and began to clean it. Strange, a valuable mirror tossed out along with almost worthless bric-a-brac? thought Mr. Wilmot to himself as he fussed around placing things here and there on the shelves. Giving the mirror a final wipe, Mandy held it up to the light where it gleamed beautifully as she turned it back and forth. She took it back to show Mr. Wilmot. Isnt it just lovely, her voice was almost a whisper as she looked longingly at it, knowing that the mirror was going to be way out of affordability for her. It certainly is my dear; you have done a perfect job of bringing it back to life. The mirror shimmered, a warm glow seemed to emanate from it. Mandy found it hard to put down. Why dont you put it in the glass cabinet where it can be seen properly, you know where the key is, Ill price it later. Mandy did as she was bid. Closing the glass door on the mirror she felt bereft, as though she was letting go of something that was a part of her, at that moment she decided she must have it even if it took her a year to pay it off.

May I buy the mirror Mr. Wilmot? asked Mandy, a little timidly. Mr. Wilmot looked up at her over the rim of his glasses, surprised at her request. I would have thought it was a little old-fashioned for you my dear, and as you see, its quite a valuable small mirror. I know, but I can pay you something each week from my pocket money, and its just so lovely, she said wistfully. Mr. Wilmot looked at her thoughtfully. I have an idea, why dont you take the mirror in return for the sort of help you are giving me now; its always good to have an extra pair of hands, especially at my age. His eyes twinkled as he smiled. Really Mr. Wilmot? said Mandy excitedly. Really, my dear, said Mr. Wilmot. Its stopped raining now, so off you go home, tomorrows Saturday and I shall expect to see you later in the morning sometime for an hour or so. Oh, you had better clear it with your mother first as well; I dont want to be in her bad books now, do I. He laughed, his mouth crinkling up at the corners and making his face look even more wrinkled than it already was. Mandy retrieved the mirror from the cabinet, took her raincoat from off the back of the chair thrusting her arms through the sleeves. She picked up her bag, tucking the mirror firmly into her blazer pocket before hurrying out of the door, the bell jangling loudly as she left. See you tomorrow, Mr. Wilmot, she called over

her shoulder. It was raining again by the time Mandy ran up the garden path to her house. She continued around the side through the gate to the back door and into the warm kitchen. Mandy, youre dripping all over the floor, said her mother, Iris, with a frown. Go and hang your coat up dear. Okay Mum, said Mandy cheerfully, taking off the offending garment and hanging it outside under the porch to dry off out of the rain. Look what Mr. Wilmot gave me, she said, taking the small silver mirror out of her pocket and holding it up, her face flushed from running, not to mention the excitement of her new acquisition. Iris looked at the mirror, concern written all over her face. Why would Mr. Wilmot give you such a valuable item? she asked as she examined the mirror closely, holding it up to the light. Mandy then explained the deal he had made with her. Well dear, thats alright, providing helping after school doesnt interfere with your homework. It wont Mum, its just for half an hour, hes so old; he finds it hard to do even simple things, and I can do a lot of the small things to help him as his hands are all crooked and bent. Iris smiled, she knew how much Mandy loved going

to the second-hand shop and helping out, and occasionally bringing home the odd item she had saved up for. Oh well, I suppose there are worse hobbies. Okay sweetheart, half an hour only mind. Mandy breathed a sigh of relief as she ran upstairs to her tiny attic bedroom which was situated under the sloping roofline. A dormer window draped with pretty cream and pink floral curtains overlooked the garden and the woods behind. Mandy would lean on the windowsill daydreaming, gazing out to the fields and woods beyond and imagining herself in another world. Her room was full of books crammed onto a white painted bookshelf which took up most of one wall, and also on top of the small Queen Anne dressing table near her bed, and there she would spend hours reading. Small items from Mr. Wilmots shop were dotted around the room. Taking the mirror once more out of her pocket she held it up to her face, looking at her own reflection of a small oval face with serious blue eyes, framed by short dark hair tied back with a pink Alice band. She looked up, glancing around the room deciding where to put it. The table near the bed would probably be the best place. She moved a few books over and as she went to lay the mirror down, something caught her eye, she gasped as the face of another girl stared back at her. Holding the mirror up, Mandy couldnt believe what she was seeing, a strange girl with short, blonde and slightly spiky hair that looked about the same age as she was, stared back at her from the other side of the glass.

Hello, the girl said, causing Mandy to drop the mirror, fortunately it landed on the bed. Mandy stared down at it, the face of the girl was still there looking at her. Gingerly Mandy picked up the mirror again, her hand trembled slightly. Where did you come from? she asked in disbelief as she held the mirror up, her hand still shaking, she was feeling quite ridiculous. The other girl also seemed surprised. I should ask you the same thing, who are you? Mandy. The strange girl pondered Mandys reply for a moment before answering. I dont know how I got hold of you, I must have pressed a wrong number or something, anyway you can still help me by calling the police, you see Im a prisoner and Ive been trying to text and phone my family and the police all week, but without much luck, and then you popped up. A prisoner! Mandy didnt quite know what to say, people dont just appear in a mirror and start chatting as though it was quite normal. The girl in the mirror looked rather pale, and her clothes looked slightly different to what Mandy wore. Where are you from? asked Mandy, hardly believing what she was doing. A place called Melby, said the other girl. Me too! Mandy exclaimed. Im not quite sure what you meant about not being able to phone out

though, and what was the other thing you said? Texting. Whats that? Oh come on, where have you been these last ten years? You mean to say that you dont know how to send a text message on your mobile phone? the girl in the mirror asked incredulously. Mobile phone, whats that? asked Mandy, more confused than ever, and Im talking to you from a mirror, not a phone. It was the other girls turn to be dumbfounded, A mirror? Now youve got to be having me on, the girl laughed, and then said, you do look slightly odd come to think of it, old fashioned you know, especially your hair, tell me what year is it? Now youre being silly, 1960 of course, Mandy replied, also laughing. They looked at each other in silence. Are you serious? Of course I am. You cant be, its 2010. 2010, dont be ridiculous, thats fifty years in the future, Mandy laughed, a little shakily. Fifty years, wow! Now Im really going crazy. Well Im not sure how you are going to help me seeing as you are fifty years in the past, but you are going to have to try, by the way my name is Stephanie, Im thirteen. Ive

tried to escape heaps of times but without much luck. Im always watched. Why are you a prisoner? Mandy asked. Its a long story, but the short of it is, that Ive been kidnapped, taken to this old derelict house and locked in this small horrid room that I cant get out of. I managed to hang onto my mobile phone and have been trying to call and text my family and friends but it doesnt seem to be working. I cant be out of range and I know I have plenty of charge still left. I cant even receive any calls, and then out of the blue you popped up on my screen. Hey, slow down, I havent a clue what youre talking about, said Mandy, even more confused than before. Stephanie continued, ignoring Mandys bewilderment. I could see you looking back at me and that you could see me, but I didnt realise it was a mirror you were using. I have no idea how I did it, and looking at you now, I can see that your hair ishow should I say itold fashioned? Youre wearing a hair band, said Stephanie, grinning, her blue eyes sparkling. Look Stephanie, I have no idea what you are talking about, except that you say that you are a prisoner. Mandy sighed, staring intently through the mirror at Stephanie. No I suppose you wouldnt, you didnt have mobile phones back in the sixties. A mobile phone is a small portable phone which everyone uses these days, its small enough to carry around in your pocket, and when it rings

you just push a button and answer it, you do the same the same if you want to phone out, it can also be used as a computer. Look, its too complicated to explain, but somehow its picked up signals from the past thats to do with the mirror you are holding. Stephanie glanced across to the door. Mandy could see even though the room was semi-dark that the door was solid wood, and quite ancient, like in a very old house. She could see that the room itself was tiny with a sloping roof, much like her own room and there was a small window, but no curtains and the window appeared to be boarded up. Stephanies eyes suddenly widened with fear as she looked back at Mandy. Someones coming, I have to go, Ill try again later, please help me. The face in the mirror disappeared and the only face Mandy could see staring back was her own.

***

2010
Stephanie quickly switched off the mobile phone and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans just as the bolt was slid back and the door was flung open. Doesnt a girl get any privacy around here? she snapped angrily at the short, fat, smelly man who barged

through the door. Watch your mouth young lady if you know whats good for you, especially if you want to eat. He plonked a greasy hamburger down on the small table. Im not hungry; youd better let me go. The police are bound to be after you, retorted Stephanie sharply, at the same time shrinking away from the man and resisting the urge to pick up the hamburger and throw it at him. Im sure they are, but they wont find you, not here anyway; right under their noses. He laughed coarsely. And wheres that? As if Im going to tell you. Still laughing, the man turned around and walked out the door, slamming it shut, the bolt slid home. Stephanie sat on the narrow bed thinking, right under their noses; well it must be near home. She was blindfolded after she was dragged off the street outside her home and thrown into the back of a van and her hands tied. There were two men, there had to be as one was driving. She vaguely remembered the windows were tinted; that was nearly a week ago. She also recalled that the drive wasnt very long, ten minutes at the most, and then they stopped briefly, the driver climbed out of the van and there was the sound of a gate creaking on its hinges. The driver then climbed straight back in the van and drove down what sounded like a gravel driveway before stopping. The men bundled her out of the van and up several steps into a building of some sort. Stephanie complained loudly, her voice echoing throughout the

room so it must have been somewhere large and empty. Then they took her, still blindfolded, up several flights of stairs and threw her into this tiny miserable room, obviously an attic. And judging by the faded and peeling wallpaper and the damp musty smell, it hadnt been used for a very long time. The short fat man untied her hands and removed the blindfold before leaving, locking the heavy wooden door behind him. She still didnt see the other man. The room was dark except for a few cracks of light shining through the small, boarded up window. Scream all you like sweetheart, said the kidnapper from the other side of the door, no one will hear you. Stephanie could hear him laughing as he walked across the landing and down the stairs, she could hear both their voices, but the words were too muffled to make out. And then it came to her, she was prisoner in the old derelict house on the big estate not five miles up the road from where she lived. It has to be, she thought, its the only big house close to home for miles around. She had tried to break out through the window but it was boarded up tight from the outside; she realised this after managing to slide the stiff, old window up a short way. She needed a hammer or something heavy to bang the boards out, but she had nothing that she could use. Her phone was useless, she just couldnt pick up a signal, no wonder they didnt bother to see if she was even carrying one, they didnt need to. Strange how she managed to tap into the past with it though. Trying to remember how she did it, she started once more to punch in some numbers.

1960
Mandy ran down the stairs to look for her brother; she was still in a state of shock, the whole episode playing through her mind as she ran down the hall and into the kitchen. Have you seen Wayne, Mum? asked Mandy, breathless from running. No, and how many times have I told you not to run through the house. Sorry Mum, said Mandy as she continued through the kitchen and out of the back door, slamming the door behind her. Iris rolled her eyes in despair. I give up. Sighing, she went back to preparing the dinner. Wayne! called Mandy; spotting him down the bottom of the garden outside the shed with his bicycle: he was busy pumping up the front tyre. What now? he sighed; the last thing he felt like was being pestered by his young sister, even though for the most part they got on quite well. I need to talk. Im busy. Micks coming around, and Ive got a flat. This is urgent, its a matter of life or death, gasped Mandy, rather dramatically.

It always is with you. Mums right, you should slow down a bit, he said, unclipping the pump. Air hissed out. Drat! It must be the valve. Seriously Wayne, it is, shes a prisoner; we have to save her. Wayne stopped what he was doing, his attention focussing at last on his sister. What on earth are you prattling on about? The girl in the mirror, shes a prisonerfrom the future. Mandys eyes were wide as she stared at her brother. Its true, Im not making it up, Mandy held up the small mirror for Wayne to see. Youre really losing it old girl, said Wayne, looking at his reflection, then back at her. Noticing the distress on her face, he said gently. Why dont you go inside and get Mum to make you a cuppa. Just then, Waynes friend arrived, scowling when he saw Mandy standing there. Shes not coming is she? asked Mick rudely. No she isnt, and her names Mandy, said Wayne defensively. Sorry, I didnt mean to be rude, whats up with your bike? Flat, its the valve; Ill have to change the tube Mandy turned to walk away, something about her slumped shoulders stirred the protective brother in him.

Wait, Mandy, he sighed with resignation. Tell me what it is you are talking about. Mandy turned around and explained to Wayne about bringing home the mirror and the girl who appeared in it from the future. A sound like a donkey braying escaped from Micks mouth. Mandy glared at him, her eyes flashing angrily. Cut it Mick, snapped Wayne, trying to stay serious and not upset his sister any more, not to mention her unpredictable temper. Wheres this mirror? In my room, Mandy replied, still glaring at Mick. Okay, Ill come and look, Im not going anywhere with my bike today, sighed Wayne wearily, running a grubby hand across his brow. He looked at Mick, Are you staying or going? Staying, this Ive gotta see, Mick was grinning broadly. Wayne gave him a warning glance and Mick shrugged his shoulders. Dont worry, Ill behave myself, he said, trying rather unsuccessfully to hide the smirk on his face. Just then a car turned into the driveway. Daddy! yelled Mandy, running over to give her father a hug when he climbed out of the car. Hows it going lads? asked Robert Smith, smiling broadly as he reached onto the back seat for his briefcase. Ive got a flat, Micks helping me to fix it, Wayne

replied. Good-oh. With that Robert headed for the back door and into the kitchen. A short while later, upstairs in her bedroom, Mandy slowly lifted the mirror up off the table, holding it into the light. She looked into it but could see only her own face. The two boys also took turns and looked, but could see only their reflections. Mick sniggered and Wayne kicked him hard on the shins, which didnt go unnoticed. Mandy snatched the mirror back from him, and glared angrily at the two boys. I know you dont believe me. Tears welled up into her eyes as she looked at them. Suddenly Are you there Mandy? Mandy nearly dropped the mirror; taking control of herself she looked into it. Yes, she whispered her voice hoarse. The boys sat transfixed, staring at the mirror in disbelief, hardly believing their own eyes. Are you all right? Mandy asked. Yes, the fat creep brought me something to eat, is there any way you can help me, I know Im asking the impossible. Stephanies face was drawn and pale. I dont know, Ive got my brother here with me, and his friend, wait a minute. Mandy explained the situation to them.

It was a moment before Wayne replied. Taking hold of the mirror he said. Hi, Im Wayneand I cant believe this is happening He glanced at the others, shaking his head. Look, I cant possibly see how we can help you if you are years away in the future as you say, you havent even said where you are, you could be in Timbuktu for all we know. I dont think so, for a start, I know that Im not very far from where I live, which is the same village that you all live in, Melby. The boys looked at one another incredulously, Stephanie continued, It must be in a very old house. I was blindfolded so I can only guess, but I was taken up several flights of stairs, and the room Im in looks like an attic. I cant see out of the window as its boarded up from the outside, but the house must be quite large, huge in fact. Melby, are you sure, which part? Wayne asked. Mandy interrupted, cutting her brother short. How far from the village would you say the house was? No more than ten minutes by car, said Stephanie. The three looked at one another. The nearest big house within ten minutes of Melby would be the Westerly mansion, theres no other big house for miles around, said Mick, staring hard at Stephanie through the mirror, hardly believing they were actually having this conversation. Yes, that sounds like it, replied Stephanie. Old Mr. Westerly has just died, the estate is being

sold off, Mandy cut in, thats where the mirror came from, it was in a box full of odds and ends that the housekeeper, Mrs. Timms, brought into the shop. Old Mr. Wilmot said I could have the mirror in return for helping him. The boys both stared at her. Drawing attention back to herself Stephanie said, Youre right, the old house near me is known as the Westerly mansion, and its on the Westerly Estate; its been empty for years and years, all the grounds were turned into a housing estate in the sixties, long before my time. So if youre right, then whoever buys the Westerly mansion and grounds will build a housing estate which will still be called the Westerly Estate and the big house will be left empty, said Wayne sadly, all those beautiful grounds being covered with hundreds of houses. Progress, lamented Mick. We need to go and have a look before its sold off while the housekeeper is still there, suggested Mandy. Ive met her a couple of times when shes come into the shop with stuff to sell. If we can get inside the house and have a look around, we might get some ideas, said Wayne half to himself. He sat thinking of possibilities. I dont know if this will help, Stephanie piped up, but Im in the room opposite the stairs, the bathroom is at the other end of the landing next to a small door which is on the end wall under the ceiling, probably a cupboard or something, there are four rooms including mine, plus

the bathroom on the same side of the landing and on the other side next to the stairs are four rooms. The doors are all locked, I know because Ive tried them when they let me out to use the toilet, the little creep usually waits on the stairs so I cant get past. I should imagine the windows in all of the rooms are boarded up like mine, including the bathroom. Thats a great help, Steph, now all we need to do is try and get a look inside the house, well go there in the morning, can you give us until lunch time? asked Wayne. Okay, Ill try and contact you again later tomorrow, bye. The mirror went blank. Stephanie had vanished from view and only their reflections could be seen looking back.