The Phantom of Barker Mill

by steve higgs

  It occurred to me that Hayley may very well wish to come to my house after dinner. I kept the place tidy but was a little paranoid that it may smell of dog without me noticing as I would be oblivious to the smell. I decided a thirty-minute blitz clean would do no harm, but as my sister, Rachael was due soon I would leave the polish, duster and vacuum cleaner out to remind me. A text pinged through to my phone just as I was getting the vacuum cleaner out of its cupboard. I snagged it from the counter and, pleased to see that it was from Hayley, opened the message to read it.

  ‘Thank you for booking dinner. I will pick you up at 715. Xx.’ I translated it into proper time: 1915hrs. Hayley wanted to pick me up rather than the other way around.

  I saw no reason to argue so acknowledged with a quick, ‘See you then. X.' I had already spent enough time daydreaming about what might happen after dinner given some of the things Hayley had already said to me, so I did my best to put thoughts of rampant gorilla sex from my head and got the Barker Mill case file out.

  My thoughts kept returning to Hayley though and the very real possibility that she and I might have sex at some point in the not too distant future. I was finding this thoroughly distracting. Distracting to the point that I had read the same passage three times now without taking anything in. I was reading a brief history of the Barker Steel Mill which I had found online. Thus far it had not told me anything of worth, but I was trying to absorb as much information as possible as one never knows what might be the missing clue. Of course, tonight I would be out with Hayley. Two minutes later, I realised that once again I had drifted off to the place where Hayley was laying on my bed wearing nothing but high heels and a thong and beckoning with a finger that I join her.

  I chastised myself for my teenage levels of horniness but abandoned my reading. Perhaps I should get the housework done now. I set about polishing the worktops and windowsills in each room. My activities attracted a suspicious eye from Bull - he was not keen on activity. Dusting complete, I turned on the vacuum cleaner. None of these tasks required my brain so I could idly fantasise about naked women without it affecting my work and, in the hope, that I might get over it before Rachael turned up with her kids.

  Naturally then, my next thought then was of Amanda laying on my bed wearing nothing but heels and a thong, her heavy chest heaving in anticipation of imminent fondling. I jumped as the vacuum cleaner ate the bottom edge of a curtain and began to drag it inside. Suddenly back in the real world, the vacuum cleaner was starting to lift off the ground as it pulled more of the floor length curtain inside. Panicked slightly, I yanked it back but succeeded only in pulling the curtain rail loose from its mooring above the window. The doorbell chimed, and I was surprised I could hear it over the vacuum cleaner which was now making a grinding noise. It was beginning to choke on my curtain, which untethered on one side had offered the hungry machine more free material to gobble up.

  Finally, my brain caught up and I switched the machine off, ending its reign of terror. The curtain rail was hanging down at an angle from the side still attached. I would need to take the whole thing off and fix it later. On the floor, the guilty looking vacuum cleaner had over a foot of material inside it. I hoped it was not destroyed. The doorbell went again. I left the evil vacuum cleaner where it was with a pointless threat to deal with it later.

  I was expecting my sister. Sure enough, there was a Rachael sized blob through the frosted glass flanked by two smaller blobs on either side. I shooed the dogs out of the way and opened the door. There was my twin sister, standing on the doorstep with her children. At six months pregnant she was sporting a considerable bump but somehow still looked tall, slim and athletic. It had often been said that I had got the brains while she got the figure and looks. Growing up we had both been in sports clubs, martial arts clubs etcetera and had both competed in and out of school. It was Rachael though that brought home the trophies, rarely me. She had gone on to compete briefly for a National gymnastics squad when she left school. Then she met a man, dropped everything to get married and before too long the children started arriving. Her employment history was brief and mostly listed retail work. In contrast, I had gathered letters to list after my name from various centres of education and had pursued a career. The children had both arrived during periods when I was out of the country on operations in some drab part of the world, so I had seen neither as a small baby and had until this year spent so little time in the UK that they barely knew who I was. Now though, I was the strange uncle that caught ghosts, or so it seemed that was their understanding. It was close enough.

  ‘Hello, Fallon. Hello, Martha.’ I greeted the two children. Fallon was four and still holding mummy’s hand. He was a little wet around his nose and face in the way that some children perpetually are. Martha was six going on forty-five and too old to hold mummy’s hand now.

  ‘Hello, Tempest.’ said my sister while my nephew and niece continued to stare wordlessly at me.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’ I asked

  ‘That would be better than staying outside.’ she replied flippantly. The kids needed no further instruction. Fallon let go of his mother’s hand and disappeared into the house under my left arm. Martha went past me on the right. Before Rachael could waddle across the short distance to the house they had opened the kitchen door and were already giggling at the dogs.

  Rachael and I air kissed as I closed the door behind her. It was only the second time she had come to my house. She lived with her husband near his family in Hampshire. I had yet to visit their house and had not seen or spoken to her husband Chris in what was probably two years now.

  ‘Good to see you, sis. Would you like a tea?’

  ‘Yes please.’ she answered following me through to the kitchen.

  ‘Do the children drink tea?’

  ‘Not really. Juice or water mostly.’

  ‘How about coke?’ I offered after a fast mental-tally of the soft drink options in my house. I drank tea or water and only had coke in the house because it went so well with rum.

  Rachael answered my question with a hard, ‘No. They will be bouncing off the walls of you give them coke.'

  I considered that I might like to see that. It sounded fun. ‘I have water then.’ Was what I said though. I took two small glasses from a cupboard and handed Rachael drinks for the children while the kettle began bubbling behind me.

  ‘Is the garden safe?’ she asked.

  ‘In what way? It has no escape routes if that is what you mean. I have to keep all holes in the fence smaller than a Dachshund can fit through or they would be off adventuring in seconds.’

  ‘Kids?’ Rachael yelled through to the lounge where the kids and dogs had gone. ‘Take the dogs in the garden.’ The instruction was delivered in a tone that held no option for bartering, discussing or arguing. Only mothers and Sergeant Majors could achieve that tone in my experience.

  I moved to the patio door and watched as the dogs plopped over the sill followed closely by the children. Then Bull spotted a squirrel on the ground across the garden and attempted to break the land speed record to get to it. Both of my dogs had a thing about squirrels. I could not work out if they felt it was some form of personal insult that a squirrel would come into the garden, or whether it was something else, but they went after them as if they were balls thrown by God.

  The children had yet to take off their coats, so would be sufficiently warm running around and playing among the trees and bushes outside.

  Rachael was finishing making the teas when I got back to the kitchen. ‘Got any biscuits?' she asked, levering herself back onto a tall stool at the breakfast bar.

  Eating sugary treats was rare for me but I was partial to a thick chocolate chunk cookie, so produced a tin of them from a drawer and offered her first pick.

  ‘Did mum ask you to organise the baby shower?' she asked.

  ‘Yup.'

  Rachael sighed. ‘I even told her not to.’ she said munching her biscuit. A few crumbs had dropped
and were sat on top of her bump. ‘It was all her idea you know.’

  ‘Really? Mother gave me the distinct impression that you had asked her.’

  ‘Nope. Well, sort of I suppose. We were talking about the baby and she asked when I would be visiting and then asked if I wanted a baby shower. It was obvious she wanted me to have one, so she could show off a grandchild to her friends. I accepted the inevitable and asked if she wanted to organise something when I next visited.’

  I chuckled. That did sound like mum.

  ‘So, since it is happening anyway. What sort of event do you want?’ Rachael was munching again so the question hung for a moment while she tried to clear her mouth. I pressed on with my plan rather than wait for her. ‘I was planning to find a quiet venue that caters so that you avoid mum’s soggy egg sandwiches and heavy pastries. It would be arranged for a weekend during daylight hours and I would invite a limited number of your friends plus mum’s collection of old ladies.’

  ‘That sounds perfect. Thank you, Tempest.’

  ‘No problem. I already have a place picked out. I just need to speak with them and see when they have availability. I'll let you know what I organise.' I sipped my tea as Rachael dunked what must have been her fourth or fifth biscuit in hers. I guess growing a baby makes you hungry. ‘I am going to need a list of the friends you wish to invite with email addresses and phone numbers. It would help, I suspect if you email them to me and cc all of them on the email, so they will have a clue who I am when I make contact.'

  Rachael chuckled. ‘Still struggling to talk to women, Tempest?’ How is it that you are so awkward with girls when you are so good looking?’

  ‘I don’t struggle to talk to women.’ I corrected her. ‘I struggle to translate talking into anything else.’

  A scream from outside split the air. I was off my stool and moving in a fraction of a heartbeat. Rachael didn’t react at all. ‘They are just playing.’ she said dipping another biscuit in her still warm tea. ‘That was Martha’s over-excited scream.’

  Out of the window, I could see the children chasing the dogs around a tree. I sat back down.

  ‘What was I saying?’ I asked myself more than her.

  ‘You were lying to me about how you can actually talk to girls.’

  I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off. ‘Don’t worry. Most of the girls I wish to invite already know you. We went to school with some of them.’

  ‘Okay.' I said weakly, unsure who she might be referring to and still smarting about her comment on my ability with ladies. A thought occurred to me. ‘I have a date in a few hours actually.'

  ‘No, you don’t.’ she replied without looking up.

  ‘Yes, I bloody do.’

  ‘Okay then. I'll bite.'

  ‘Her name is Hayley. She works at the coffee shop near my office.’

  ‘And you asked her out?’ Rachael asked, her voice ripe with disbelief.

  ‘Mostly.’ I conceded now unsure what had actually happened.

  ‘Good. Just don’t tell mum. You know how desperate she is for you to produce an heir.’

  I nodded. It was wise advice.

  Rachael and I continued to chat for another hour. The patio doors burst open at one point. The dogs and children arriving in the kitchen moments later with the scent of autumn on their clothes and fur. The kids drained their glasses of water and snagged a chocolate cookie for each hand. The dogs drank from their water bowl and to keep things even I gave them a gravy bone each.

  ‘The dog did a poo.’ Martha announced.

  ‘They do that.’ Rachael replied.

  With no other news to report, Martha, Fallon and the dogs went back outside. Through the window, we could see them grabbing piles of fallen leaves and throwing them high in the air to run underneath as they fell. The action was accompanied by squeals of laughter and excitement and the odd bark from a dog.

  All too soon, Rachael said it was time to go. The children groaned but conceded and suddenly the house was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  I turned on the TV for some noise and set about getting ready for my date

  A date with Hayley. Saturday, 9th October 1845hrs

  Hayley wanted to pick me up at my house. I had thought it a little odd when she suggested it but dismissed the thought as old-fashioned bordering on sexist. It didn’t bother me that she was the one taking me out. Why would it? I was a fan of strong, independent women after all.

  I shot my cuff to check my watch only to find that I had not put it on yet. I pulled my phone from its back pocket hiding place instead: 1845hrs. She was not due for half an hour yet, so I had plenty of time to finish getting dressed.

  Mildly concerned about spinach between my teeth or the risk of bad breath, I had reserved brushing, flossing and mouth washing until the last minute. It seemed last minute enough now so I headed upstairs to the bathroom.

  I took my shirt off to eliminate the chance of dripping toothpaste on it and hung it on the end of the stair banister.

  In the bathroom, I posed shirtless in front of the mirror, flexed my arms a few times inspecting the musculature critically. I didn’t feel like I was getting old, grey hair had yet to come and I was keeping body fat mostly at bay. I slapped my stomach where a light covering of unnecessary fat ruined my abs and told myself to stop overthinking life. I could lose the fat if I really wanted to, but to achieve that I would have to pin my diet back to the point that it would bother me. It seemed unnecessary.

  I gave myself a mental slap and opened the bathroom cabinet. Then the doorbell went.

  The dogs, who had undoubtedly been asleep on the sofa, burst to life in a fit of barking. I could hear them rush through the house to arrive, skidding to a halt, at the front door.

  I wanted to make whomever it was wait, but the dogs would continue to make noise and there were babies in nearby houses who might be sleeping at this time. It was better that I just answer the door.

  I snagged my shirt on my way down the stairs and threw it on without doing it up. Through the frosted glass of the front door, I could see the figure was a woman and it looked very much to me that the distorted silhouette was Hayley.

  Bull and Dozer were going nuts at my feet, so I shooed them back into the kitchen and shut the door. Then quickly checked myself in the mirror in the hall to make sure I did not have anything sticking to my face or hanging from my nose. Satisfied, I opened the door.

  Hayley was wearing a figure-hugging pair of skinny jeans which made her legs look longer than they were, a pair of Mary Janes with a two-inch heel in bright blue and a matching blue three quarter length leather jacket over a white satin halter neck top. She looked stunning.

  I knew she was attractive, I had always been interested, but I realised now that I had only ever seen her in work clothes with an apron around her waist. A short, quiet noise of excitement came from just below my belt.

  ‘Hello, Hayley. You look stunning.’ I said simply and honestly. ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘I’m a little early. Sorry.’ She replied taking in my bare feet and open shirt.

  ‘That's Okay, I'm nearly ready. If you can give me a couple of minutes we can go.' I stepped away from the door so that she could come in. As I shut the door, the dogs started up barking again. ‘I will have to let them out. Is that Okay?'

  ‘Of course, Tempest. I am dying to see them anyway.’

  ‘Just watch out for them in case they claw your legs or leave nose prints on your clothes.' I opened the kitchen door and the pair of idiots fell out as one mass of black and tan fur with eight legs and two tails. They were both trying to occupy the same space so were essentially both simultaneously trying to stand on the other's back. Propelling themselves forward anyway, they ran right into Hayley's legs and started trying to climb them. Hayley bent down to coo and fuss them, so the pair rolled onto their backs for tummy tickles. They were so fearsome.

  ‘I will be just a few minutes.’ I assured Hayley as I headed for the stair
s.

  ‘Please don’t rush, I will be just fine here with your lovely dogs.’

  Back upstairs I could hear Hayley talking to the dogs in a typical childish voice that one uses on pets. I did the same thing myself. I set about cleaning my teeth but with a greater sense of urgency that I had intended as I did not wish to keep the lady waiting.

  Teeth cleaned, hair tidied, and aftershave applied, I wandered through to the bedroom to get my shoes and buttoned my shirt as I went. In total, I had probably taken about five minutes and I was looking forward to a few hours spent in the company of an attractive woman. It had been several months since I had gone on an actual date and longer than that since I had engaged in any nocturnal, naked activity. Mr. Wriggly was very conscious of this fact and had been reminding me all day.

  As I came down the stairs, I could see that Hayley and the dogs were no longer in the entrance hallway. I checked quickly in the dining room/office, but they were not there so I moved through the house to the kitchen, which was also empty and then into the lounge.

  In the middle of the lounge, stood in front of the mantelpiece was Hayley, no longer wearing her skinny jeans and jacket combo. Instead, she was in bright white, very sexy lingerie, stockings and all and still wearing the heels.

  Mr. Wriggly made a noise that sounded pretty much exactly like a rule does when a school child twangs it off the edge of their desk while holding it down and creating a reverberation with the free end. Kind of a boooinngggoooinggoooiinng noise as he changed state from sleepy passiveness to determined aggression in about half a heartbeat. Visually, it would have been much like a party blower unfurling. I could hear him mustering the rowers up to ramming speed.

  As I watched, she took off her bra, letting it fall from her fingertips to the floor. Then she crossed the floor and began to kiss me. The remainder of my evening was, shall we say eventful and entertaining.

  A Rude Awakening. Sunday, 10th October 0815hrs

  I awoke to a hammering on the door and the dogs barking incessantly downstairs. I was on the wrong side of my bed and momentarily disoriented until Hayley sat up next to me, her breasts demanding my attention as the covers fell away from them.