The Beasts of Clawstone Castle by Eva Ibbotson Page A

washed their hands of her when she went to work in a circus.
    So the first thing the children did was to try and make the ghosts feel comfortable in the castle and give them a place they could call their own.
    They offered them the dungeon and the armoury and the banqueting hall – but the ghosts chose the old nursery at the very top of the house. There was a day nursery with a Wendy house and a dappled rocking horse and a tinny piano, and a night nursery with three small beds and a sagging sofa and a row of china chamber pots. There was also a pantry and a scullery where the children’s nannies had prepared their food and washed their nappies.
    ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ Madlyn asked, because the rooms, though dusty and full of cobwebs, were light and cheerful. ‘You wouldn’t rather have somewhere damp and dark?’
    But the ghosts liked the white-painted rooms, which had belonged to the Percival children long ago. It reminded them of the times before they had grown up, and suffered, and become phantoms. Ranulf spent much of the time on the dappled horse – he said that the rocking movement quietened the rat – and Brenda was pleased with the big sink where she could soak her veil and dab at the spots on her dress. She had told them that she had been a war bride and married at a time when clothes were rationed and one had to save up for them not only with money but with coupons.
    ‘Thirty-three coupons, this dress cost me,’ she said – and of course that made it understandable that she should be so cross about the blood.
    As the big day approached everything seemed to be going really well. The ghosts kept thinking of new and interesting ways of frightening people. Ned had printed leaflets warning people to beware as some terrifying spectres had been found in Clawstone and anyone with heart problems should take care. There was even a small piece in the paper.
    And then on the last evening disaster struck.
    The children had gone up to the nursery to wish everybody luck – and found that the rooms were empty.
    ‘Are you there?’ they called.
    But already they were alarmed. Ghosts do not usually become invisible when they are staying with friends.
    At first nothing happened. Then, very slowly, the ghosts appeared. They were huddled together on the sagging sofa and they looked terrible.
    ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ asked Madlyn.
    Brenda cleared her throat. ‘We don’t think we can do it,’ she said ‘It’s too difficult. It’s not what we’ve been used to.’
    ‘We’ll never get it right,’ said Mr Smith.
    ‘Do what? What can’t you do?’
    ‘Haunt like you want us to,’ said Ranulf. ‘Give a proper performance. Scare people.’
    The children looked at each other in dismay. They knew what they were dealing with and that it was serious.
    Stage fright. The terror that can come out of the blue and attack actors and musicians before a show. Sometimes it passes, but it can be so bad that nothing on earth can make the person go on and perform. The careers of brilliant artists have been completely blighted by stage fright – and no doctor has yet found a cure.
    ‘We don’t feel we can stay,’ said Ranulf, ‘not if we cannot do what you ask of us.’
    ‘It wouldn’t be fair to stay if we can’t do our work,’ said Sunita.
    Strangely, it was Rollo, who was usually so dreamy, who now took charge.
    ‘If you come with me I’ll show you why you have to help us,’ he said, ‘why you have to stay.’
    The phantoms looked at him listlessly. The Feet stayed where they were, half buried in the sofa cushions, but the others followed him out of the nursery, down three flights of stairs and out of the castle.
    He led them across the gardens, past the gate to the park and to the place where the elm tree leaned over the high stone wall. Rollo climbed up to his watching place; Madlyn and Ned followed – and the ghosts glided up and settled down beside them.
    They were staring down on the