All Your Fears

by Peter Hodgson

  She unfastened Smarty’s collar, peeped out of the window overlooking the road. She watched a young couple pass by, turned her back to the wall and slid downwards into a sitting position. She waited until some degree of composure returned, and looked out again. All clear. He wouldn’t loiter in front of the house. He would be too conspicuous. But what if …?

  She crept into the living room, stood by the French doors, looked out. The lamp in the next street afforded enough light to confirm there was nobody lurking in the garden. Kim threw the curtains together and switched the lights on. She rushed up the stairs to her bedroom, looked outside and saw nothing unusual. She undressed, jumped in the shower and washed away the sweat of her ordeal.

  At quarter to ten she made a cup of hot chocolate and rested with Smarty by her side. She reached for her diary and pen. In the space for the appropriate date, she wrote: Took Smarty for his walk to the field behind castle. Saw man standing still on the path looking in my direction. Ran home as fast as I could. Didn’t see him again. How did he know where I was? Was he following me? Did he just happen to be there?

  She imagined the blonde woman in the same locale, and a car being driven at her. She scribbled another note in her diary reminding her to avoid the castle grounds in the evenings. She drew two bold lines beneath the entry. ‘Yes, keep away from the castle,’ she murmured. ‘Summer is on the way. More daylight hours for me and Smarty to enjoy.’

  A pattern was beginning to emerge. She would have to decide whether to stay in Eaton Cross.

  She stared at the ceiling. A curious feeling of both uncertainty and sadness swelled within her. She closed her eyes and slid sideways onto the plump cushion. Her breathing became slow and rhythmic. She spoke some gibberish, let out a low moan and fell asleep.

  ***

  Kim wearily climbed a time-worn staircase. A grey mist drifted under a pulsating black door, rolled down the steps and enveloped her legs. She breathed in an atmosphere of irredeemable sorrow and despair. A few steps took her to the door. Its crimson veins expanded and contracted with hideous regularity. Ice-cold fear ran down her spine. The detestable stench of decay penetrated her nostrils. She slowly moved her hand towards the gnarled handle. Her outstretched fingers sprang back into the palm of her hand. The door creaked open, inviting her to enter the liquid blackness of the room. She crept inside and the door clicked shut behind her. A row of gas lamps flared up, their feeble light revealing a deserted, narrow street. Derelict, moss-covered, weather-worn shops ran on both sides. Buttercups and daisies shot up from the cracks in the black pavements.

  The quiet was broken by the rising echo of a child singing. The singing stopped. A nauseating apprehension escalated within her. She walked on, the pavement yielding to her weight, giving the impression of a mushy texture. The building to her left had a stream running through it. She stood by the window and saw plastic balls and dolls dancing in the ripples. The façade of the next shop was covered in a red blanket. It fell to the ground, pulled away by an invisible hand. Eleven stout candles relit themselves behind a coffin supported by two trestles. A hairy, quivering spider guarded a heart-shaped silver padlock. A writhing mass of disgusting, slimy maggots covered the coffin lid. A Labrador puppy licked at its edge. ‘You shouldn’t be eating filthy maggots,’ Kim shouted. Fingernails scraped the rotten wood from inside the coffin. Someone trapped, waiting to be buried alive.

  She made her way to the next shop of horrors. A metal chair with electrical wires attached sat in the centre of the room. Suspended above the chair were four words formed by neon lights: ‘Execution in five minutes.’ Flames from the lamps along the street diminished to a mere flicker as if announcing the next scene in a play. The darkness curled around her. The electric chair emitted an eerie red glow. From the shadows, there appeared a round-shouldered, middle-aged man immaculately dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and red tie. His permanent scowl complemented his crooked nose and piercing eyes. He rubbed his hands together, relishing the imminent event. He was joined by a thin girl, ten or eleven years of age, wearing a heavy canvas prison outfit with imprinted arrows. The lamps burned brighter. The terrified girl pressed the shivering puppy against her chest. She made a lovely smile. Kim smiled back. She had seen her before – the face of a young Kerry Halpin, the woman who had gone missing in Eaton Cross. The girl inched her way to the front of the chair. The tall man clasped his long, bony fingers around her waist and lifted her onto it. She sang beautifully, the words coming out loud and clear: ‘Come with me and you will see the faces in my mirror …’ Kim mouthed the words as the intensity of the gas light decreased. The neon lights cast a faint red tinge in the girl’s wavy hair. She stopped singing and looked solemnly at the wicked man. He grabbed the whimpering, defenceless puppy, threw it onto the dusty floor. ‘Stupid animal,’ he said, grinning at Kim. He secured robust manacles around the girl’s wrists in preparation for the apparent execution. Kim did nothing to help and acknowledged the shame biting her conscience. She couldn’t shake off the feeling she was partly responsible for this despicable display of cruelty.

  The girl closed her eyes. ‘Help me,’ she implored. ‘Please, help me … I want to go home.’ Kim moved closer to the window. With bitter blades of guilt piercing her heart, she waved a last goodbye. Ankle shackles were hastily clipped into place. Shrill screams were ignored. The whimpering puppy was taken from under the chair, held down with one hand. The man reached for a large, heavy hammer, battered its tiny head to a mushy pulp. Kim slapped her hands against her ears and turned away from the sickening spectacle. She reeled back and fell into a dark, bottomless pit. The force of the passing air ripped the clothes off her clammy body and tore hair out by the roots. The speed of her fall increased, ripped the skin off her body as she hurtled towards an uncertain demise.

  Her eyes snapped open. She sat upright, confused, not knowing where she was. The confusion slowly evaporated. Her senses linked up with the reality of the moment. Smarty was barking loudly in response to loud knocking on the door. She put on her dressing gown and rushed into the hallway with Smarty at her heels. ‘Be quiet,’ she commanded. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Whoever was knocking must have heard her.

  ‘Hello. It’s me, Jay Yeldon.’

  Cautiously, she opened the door. ‘What have you come here for?’

  ‘I’ve come to see if you’re all right.’

  ‘Why now?’

  ‘Now is as good a time as any … Look, I was in the area and thought I’d pay you a visit. I’ll go away if you want me to.’

  She let him in. Jay was dressed casual and smart in a zip-up blue jacket, jeans, Lyle and Scott canvas shoes.

  ‘I see I’ve come at a bad time,’ he said, aware of her agitation.

  She led him into the back room, motioned him to take a seat.

  ‘I was going to have an early night but fell asleep down here.’

  ‘You don’t look so good.’

  ‘I had a bad dream. I’ll be fine.’

  She lit a cigarette, offered him one. He smiled and shook his head. His presence was like a healing ointment smeared into the wounds of her evolving trepidation.

  ‘Perhaps I should have left it for another time,’ he said, glancing at his watch.

  ‘Do you fancy a glass of wine?’

  ‘No, thanks. I took a risk coming here. You might have had a bloke with you.’

  She sucked hard on the cigarette, sat quietly for a while trying to decide whether to succumb to the emotional pull he had on her. ‘I haven’t had a bloke for a long time. I’m not attached to anyone. I already told you on the first night you came here.’

  ‘I see … So, what kind of job do you have?’

  ‘I work in a hotel, if you must know, cleaning and making beds.’

  ‘Which hotel?’

  ‘The White Swan, in the town centre. The pay isn’t brilliant. I have a lot of rooms to attend to.’

  ‘Being busy makes spare time even more enjoyable, otherwise you would be bor
ed all day looking after your dog.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  Jay jerked his head in the direction of the French doors.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Kim asked, sitting upright.

  ‘The wind is blowing stronger and it’s raining again … Something the matter?’ She shook her head. ‘The dream has unsettled you. Tell me about it.’

  ‘I don’t want to describe it … What really brings you here, Jay?’

  ‘I find you interesting.’

  ‘What, like I’m a book or something?’

  ‘I used the wrong words. To be honest, I’m concerned for your welfare, and I’m fond of you.’ She blushed and looked away from him. ‘The other day, we sat near the castle. You ran away after the girl showed you her Easter egg.’

  ‘Why does it bother you? These things happen. Anyway, you don’t know me at all.’

  The rain intensified and drummed against the window. The muscles in Kim’s body tensed. Jay leaned forward, hands together, elbows on knees. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I should be on my way.’ He rose from the chair, zipped up his jacket.

  ‘Don’t go. You can stay longer … I’m happy you came. It’s lonely here, even with the dog by my side.’

  ‘He’s a lovely fellow.’ Jay stroked him. ‘You would hardly know he was here. How long have you had him?’

  ‘Two years. He’s called Smarty … I was upset the other day …’

  ‘What upset you?’ he said softly.

  ‘My mother died recently.’

  ‘You have my condolences. I suppose the presence of the school girl made you sad. Childhood memories. Times spent with your mother. Are those the reasons why you ran off?’

  She shook her head. Jay looked a question at her.

  ‘It’s hard to explain. Maybe one day …’ A look of sadness darkened her features. Her words suggested there were incidents best left unspoken. They also told him there was a likelihood she would be willing to see him again.

  ‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘Hopefully, an early night will refresh you.’

  He jotted down his phone numbers in a notebook, tore out the leaf and placed it on the table. Kim lowered her head and said nothing. She waited for the door to close, ran outside and watched him drive away. She went inside, back to the loneliness. Smarty was asleep and snoring. She picked up her diary and wrote, Jay Yeldon came to see me. Wanted to know if I was okay. I can tell he fancies me. Can’t believe it. Gave me his number. Not sure what his true intentions are. Handsome man. Has a look of … She left the sentence unfinished and tossed the diary onto the table.

  Seconds later, a rap on the window made her jump; a stone, perhaps, thrown from behind the fence. Smarty growled. Kim rushed across the room and peered into the gloom. A dark shape rose above the garden fence. Her imagination toyed with her for a second and the hand of terror gripped her. Dark eyes locked onto her from a slit in a balaclava. Was it the man she saw in the castle grounds, or a stalker? What did he want with her? She hurried into the kitchen, released the bolts, pushed the door open. Smarty bounded into the garden and barked loudly. The person was no longer there. Footsteps faded. A car engine revved. Tyres screeched.

  Chapter Eight

  The sun descended below the horizon. The long shadows over Eaton Cross dwindled.

  Lauren switched the table lamp on and rested her hand on Kim’s knee. ‘You’re quiet, Kim, not your usual self,’ she said softly. ‘I can tell. What sort of day have you had at work?’

  ‘Busy, as usual. I didn’t work so hard today. My mind was elsewhere.’

  ‘I’m all ears, Kim.’

  ‘Does Smarty’s barking disturb you?’

  ‘I can’t say it does. The only time we hear him barking is when the postman comes, or if you have a visitor. His barking stops after a few seconds. Why do you ask?’

  ‘He was barking last night in the house and in the garden. Did you hear him and look out to see what was going on?’

  ‘Me and Stuart were playing cards. We didn’t hear anything unusual and had no reason to look outside.’

  ‘I had to ask.’

  ‘The occasional bark doesn’t disturb us at all. Did you have some trouble last night?’

  ‘I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. I’m sure you have problems of your own.’

  ‘If I can help you, I will. A problem shared …’

  Kim described her ordeal in the castle grounds, the rap on the window and the individual wearing a balaclava, watching her from above the fence.

  ‘Oh, how creepy,’ Lauren said, taking hold of Kim’s hand. ‘You should have come to us. We would have looked after you.’

  ‘I hope he doesn’t come back again. Smarty scared him off. I heard a car speeding away, too. Have you seen anyone loitering nearby recently, or looking suspicious?’

  Lauren shook her head. ‘You say you saw a man looking over the fence, but you couldn’t see the face. Could the person have been a woman?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’m sure it was the same man I saw at the castle.’

  ‘You said he didn’t follow you?’

  ‘I didn’t see him. If he followed me back home …’

  ‘He knows where you live. You should have called the police. Anyway, why should someone want to scare you? You’re a gentle person. You wouldn’t intentionally harm anyone.’

  ‘What would you have done?’

  ‘I think I would have made the call.’

  ‘There’s nothing much they could do.’

  ‘They might send out a patrol car at night and drive round the estate. There’s never been much trouble in this town. It’s a safe place, Kim.’

  ‘Yes. Maybe it is. I wouldn’t want to leave Eaton Cross, that’s for sure. Not unless I was forced to. I’m settled and happy. I have a job, a decent house, my lovely Labrador … and lovely neighbours.’

  ‘We’re here if you need anything. You’ll probably have no trouble at all from now on. The two incidents might not be related. The man in the castle grounds could have mistaken you for someone else. The person looking over your fence might have been one of the local kids fooling around. I wouldn’t be surprised. The fact is, you’re here all in one piece. You won’t have to leave this town.’

  A warm sense of reassurance calmed her nerves. Lauren embraced her. Kim melted in her arms, savoured the moment.

  ‘I’ll tell Stuart what has happened and we’ll keep a lookout for any unusual activity. You’ll be fine, Kim. There’s no need to be afraid.’

  Kim kissed her cheek and said, ‘Thanks for taking the time to listen.’

  ‘No problem. I’m usually at home in the evenings. If you have any concerns or want some company, give me a shout.’

  ***

  Andy muttered to himself as he skipped down the stairs and into the bar.

  ‘What are you going on about?’ Denise asked. ‘You going simple, or what?’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, nodding hello to two elderly gentlemen standing at the bar. ‘Kim was a bit late yesterday and was lagging behind in her work. I told her to change a gear and speed up. As we all know, the Easter period is always busy –’

  ‘Spit it out, Andy. I’m trying to serve these two gentlemen.’

  ‘Not only as she hoovered and changed the bedsheets on the first and second floors, she’s managed to clean and polish the function hall. Nobody’s ever worked that fast, and she’s done an excellent job too. I had a notion I was putting too much pressure on her. However, she …’

  Andy was silenced by his wife’s demeanour and sideways glance. Kim walked across the room and stood behind him, her face flushed with exertion. She dabbed her forehead with a tissue. ‘It’s Wednesday today, Andy. I’ve run myself ragged to make up for my recent sluggishness. I don’t have to come in tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, you will, young lady,’ Denise snapped.

  ‘The vacant rooms on the two floors are all prepared for the new arrivals,’ she added. ‘I have checked the duvets f
or tears and blemishes, looked under all the beds – you never know what you might find – polished everything inside the Churchill Room. And I’ve polished the old photos on the walls in the function hall.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Andy said.

  Denise scowled at her.

  ‘Pity you don’t have enough time to appreciate those photographs in the hall,’ one of the gentlemen said. ‘There’s a great deal of history connected to this town.’

  ‘I don’t think they would be of any interest to her,’ Andy commented. ‘Even I’m not familiar with them.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what they are, shall I?’ Kim said. ‘Let me think … Eaton Cross, 1908; Eaton Cross from the Castle Keep, 1910; Market Place, 1940; Dryden Hall, 1920; the Railway Station, 1910; Bentfield Mill, 1911; Rowley Bridge, 1905. Should I continue?’

  Andy was astonished. The gentleman’s eyebrows jumped up an inch.

  ‘There, you see. I’m only a cleaner … What a clever young woman I am.’

  ‘Indeed, you are,’ Andy praised. ‘What a fantastic memory.’

  ‘Thank you. See you all tomorrow. Goodbye.’

  Kim left them standing in quiet bewilderment.

  Denise pulled a pint. ‘Who does she think she is?’

  Andy remained silent for a few seconds, his brow furrowed by an afterthought. ‘Yes, well … I should have told her to do her shirt up – too many buttons undone. Mind you, she would have been hot doing all that work.’

  Kim crossed the road and breathed in the aroma of Markham’s bakery delights. Gill was taking orders from customers sitting at the sunlit tables. She looked distinctive dressed in black shirt and pants.

  The Easter period had brought with it a welcome blaze of sunshine. Gill fanned herself with her notepad. Kim tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Hi. I’m back again.’