Read Online The Hunting Ground by Cliff McNish - Free Book Online Page B

it. Briefly that was more important to him than anything else.
    Shaking that ridiculous thought from his head, Elliott looked across at his brother.
    Ben seemed unaffected by the portrait. ‘I’ve found the slope and the woods as well,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘You can see them from upstairs.’
    A dazed Elliott allowed Ben to guide him to the fifth floor.
    And there it was, in plain sight – the hunting ground. It wasn’t concealed or hidden away. It was a broad hillside surrounded by woods within easy walking distance of Glebe House. The topography of the land simply made it hard to recognise from the lower floors.
    Nothing had significantly changed in all the years since the hunting ground’s depiction in the paintings. The woods ranged around the slope were still extensive. If anything, the hunting ground seemed to have grown since the owner’s time, the trees fuller, more numerous. The only major difference was that the cleared slope was now strewn with meadow-grass.
    Seeing the hunting ground confirmed as real and
still there
made all the hairs rise on Elliott’s neck. It was also obvious now why the owner had included the trees as well as the slope as part of his killing territory. The slope alone simply wasn’t large enough for a proper pursuit. It was only a short scurry to get up the bank, at least for a strong adult. The owner might have used that for a quick chase and hack-down, but for a true contest he needed the woods as well. The thick trees fringing theslope offered a chance for his prey to hide, or even escape. Much more interesting.
    Turning away in disgust, Elliott looked at Ben … and found him standing utterly, utterly still. His arms were relaxed and by his side. Elliott realised that he had been standing like that, staring raptly at the hunting ground, ever since they entered the room. He also noticed for the first time a snag of tell-tale dust in Ben’s hair.
    ‘When did you go back into the East Wing?’ he demanded, shocked.
    ‘I … I was searching for you, remember?’ Ben said guardedly.
    ‘You never told me you went into the East Wing.’
    ‘Well I did, OK? I thought you’d gone in after Eve, but I wasn’t sure. I wanted to go inside. To help you, I mean.’ A confused expression crossed Ben’s face. ‘In the end all I found in there was … well, I’ll show you.’
    He led Elliott back downstairs to his own bedroom. Swiping Old Albert off the mattress, Ben reached up to the mantelpiece. Several loose sheets of paper were there. Elliott recognised the writing style at once.
    ‘Is that the bit of the diary we gave Dad to read?’
    ‘No.’ Ben gazed at him innocently. ‘It’s the next part.’
    Elliott snatched the pages off him. ‘Where did you find it?’
    ‘It was just lying on the floor in the East Wing.’
    ‘It wasn’t there when I was inside,’ Elliott said suspiciously. ‘I’d have seen it.’
    Ben looked genuinely confused. ‘It’s dark in there. You must have missed it. The diary was just lying right in front of me when I went in. The pages were all mixed up, but I’ve sorted them out.’
    Elliott stared at Ben. ‘Hold on. Are you saying that you didn’t go to find Dad after we saw Eve? That first you went into the East Wing again, found these, took the time to get the pages in the right order, brought them up here, and only
then
went to look for Dad?’
    Ben nodded. Elliott could tell that Ben saw nothing wrong with the sequence in which he’d done things. What was going on with him? Shaking his head, Elliott fingered the pages. ‘Have you read them?’ he asked. ‘Did you do
that
before looking for me as well?’
    ‘No.’ Ben’s face was expressionless.
    ‘So let’s do it,’ Elliott said in bewildered exasperation. ‘Let’s read them.’
    ‘All right.’
    But Ben seemed to be in no hurry to get started. He was distracted, his gaze constantly being drawn to the nearest portrait. Elliott recognised it. The pike fish. It had not been in