by Cassie Hart
‘So, about last night,’ he said. ‘About the barn, too.’
Jena whirled to face him with a frown on her face. ‘Do we have to?’
‘Yeah, yeah I think we do. Jena, you dug up a skull. And before that you got drunk and had fights with both Cade and Rose.’
‘I don’t really see how it’s any of your business who I fight with, or whether I’m drunk,’ she spat out, but she pulled a chair out from the table and sat down on it.
Will sat across from her, resting his elbows on the wood of the table. ‘It is if you end up drowning in a flooded hole with a skull.’
She blew out an exasperated sigh. ‘We were doing so well before, being civil, and dancing around things. I don’t really want to go over it all.’
‘Well I think you need to. Jena.’ He said her name softly, kindly, hoping she could drop her attitude. ‘There’s more going on here than what we can see, I just know it. In the barn there was smoke. I saw it, smelled it, could taste it as well. It was a real thing, even if there was no fire to cause it.’ Will flattened his hands onto the table. ‘There are so many stories about this kind of thing, about entities and the events that surround them.’
‘Entities?’ Jena sat up straighter in her chair. ‘What do you mean by that? This is weird as hell ….’
‘Jena, something else is going on here; it’s more than just a family that bad things have happened to. I know you think your family are killers, but what if ….’ He sighed, trying to find the right words. ‘It could be a demon, or a spirit, I don’t know.’
She turned to look out the window at the barn. He could see in the reflection that she was chewing her lip, her eyes wide and vacant as if she was somewhere – some-when – else. ‘And the birds? Because they’ve always been here and I’ve always been terrified of them.’
He shrugged again, though she wasn’t looking at him. ‘I wish I could explain the way they were acting in the barn and what you said about when you were a kid, but I don’t know anything about birds. Magpies are territorial though, right? Protective of what’s theirs. Maybe …. Maybe they think you’re theirs.’
She didn’t speak for a minute, didn’t move. She was frozen. And then she stood up, brushing past him and around the counter to pace the length of the kitchen.
‘Birds don’t look out for people. Smoke doesn’t appear from nowhere.’ She flung her hands in the air and turned to face him. ‘It was all in my head, all in yours. You were seeing what you wanted to see. You get that, right?’
He wanted to tell her it wasn’t all in their heads, that there was a spiritual angle to this, something deep and powerful. He could feel it, even if he didn’t know what it was and had no idea how to explain it. And it was there, on the video. But before he had a chance to open his mouth, Jena spoke again.
‘I feel like I’ve stepped into some weird-ass movie. Like, I can’t even tell what’s real any more, because the things I know can’t be real feel like they have an edge of truth to them.’ She dragged her fingers through her hair and let out a little scream. ‘I think I’d prefer to believe it was all my fault, because at least that’d be the end of it. My fault. Dad’s fault. Rose’s fault. We’re all just fucked-up people who lose our shit and do awful things. Like I did last night.’ Her tone dropped, until it was almost like she was talking to herself. ‘Trust me to want to know the truth and then not be able to handle it, not that I even know the truth, and how the hell can I? I don’t think she’s going to talk to me. I don’t know that I can talk to her.’ Jena stopped her pacing, stopped her rant and spun to face him. ‘You. It has to be you. You’re good at listening, good at getting people to talk.’
‘Hang on,’ Will said, holding up a hand. He’d caught the harsh edge in her words, as if she was bitter that she’d talked to him at all. How was he going to regain her trust? ‘You want me to what … ask Rose to just tell me the truth?’
‘Take the skull. Tell her I found it. See how she reacts. I don’t know. Like I said, you’re better at this and I need to know what she’s hiding from me. We need to know. You want to know, don’t you? You said you’d been thinking about this house, these events, for almost as long as I have. I bet you never told Rose that though, did you? Maybe I should tell her.’ Jena shrugged nonchalantly. Then she levelled a firm stare at him. ‘Help me get to the bottom of it. I need to know.’
The look in her eyes wavered between furious and desperate, but he couldn’t quite tell whether it was a hint of the unwellness she had suggested ran in her family, or something else. It didn’t really matter. If he didn’t ask Rose, Jena would find a way to out him. He’d lose this job, and he’d had enough warnings about getting too personal with clients that he might not get another. He wouldn’t have anywhere to live, either, since his ex-girlfriend had kicked him out. No money, no home.
No. He couldn’t lose this job. And he couldn’t handle not knowing what had happened here, because things were happening now, and as much as they freaked him out, he needed to be part of it.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Oh my god, thank you.’ Her shoulders sagged in relief. ‘I don’t want to have to tell her, but I will. You know that, right?’
Will nodded. ‘I’ve got to take her into town later today for a check-up and we’ll be staying overnight, so I’ll try and talk with her then.’
‘Not going to take the skull with you?’ Jena raised an eyebrow and then laughed. ‘Sorry, that image in my head is hilarious. Still, you have to find a way to bring it up.’
‘I know,’ Will said with a sigh. This was going to be a really long overnighter. But he would do it. He scrambled for the right words to part with, something that would break the tension between them. Something that would make it easier.
‘I better get organised,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an old lady to accost.’ He grinned at her, trying to put some humour into it, trying to feel like they were on the same team, and was rewarded with a genuine smile that only managed to make him feel worse. ‘Are you going to be okay here. Alone?’ he asked, glancing out the window at the barn. How much alcohol was there left in the house?
Her smile disappeared in an instant, and Jena shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JENA
Jena refused to watch as Will and Rose left; she knew neither of them was likely to talk to her anyway, and she just wanted it over and done with. To be alone. To not have to be nice, or contained, to just do whatever the hell she wanted with no one looking over her shoulder or whispering behind her back.
And what she wanted right now was to search this house from top to bottom.
Jena dumped the dregs of her coffee into the sink and put the jug on to boil again, glancing out the window at the barn. The old anvil was still sitting in front of it, and she wondered whether they’d even moved it when they were cleaning up the remnants of the old barn and building the new one, or whether it had just sat there the whole time, the only thing remaining from back then. The only thing strong and steady. If only it could speak its story and tell her what the hell had happened, one hundred percent fact, nothing else.
The jug whistled and she flicked off the switch, scooping coffee and sugar into her mug and then pouring the water over top. She stirred the spoon around, watching the clumps of coffee melt in the heat, their distinct forms blurring until she couldn’t tell one from the other.
What had her parents looked like when they melted in the heat?
She shuddered. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.
Finally, she heard the rev of the engine and the crunch of gravel under tyres. She waited, holding her breath until the sound disappeared. Until they’d left the driveway and gone on their way.
Until she was alone.
Whether she was surrounded by people or not, she always managed to be alone in some sense of the word.
And maybe it was better that way.
Jena added milk and took the mug to the tabl
e, sitting down in her same old seat. She could almost see her family there, stuck in time, Joel giggling and teasing her, their mother telling him off, her brow furrowing but her eyes laughing.
Nope. She couldn’t be here. Not right now.
Jena left her mug on the table and strode up the stairs, heading for Joel’s room.
Or rather, Will’s.
She crossed the landing and placed her fingers on the door handle, holding her breath, half expecting it not to move when she pushed down. But it did. She exhaled and pushed it open, not sure what she’d find.
There was nothing of Joel here now. The walls had been painted a neutral white, and the single bed was now a double. Will kept the room tidy, a few books stacked on the nightstand the only indication of occupation.
But just because it looked like there was nothing to see here, it didn’t mean she couldn’t find something. Will was an unknown to her, but the little she did know suggested there was more going on there than met the eye.
Jena felt almost guilty about sneaking in like this; it wasn’t like Will had done anything really bad, and it wasn’t his family that was so fucked up. Still, he seemed to have slipped in between her and Rose, and he wasn’t making it any easier to get information.
Unless he really could get through to her while they were gone ….
‘Ugh.’ She flopped down on the bed, not caring that she was crinkling his hospital corners. He should know she’d been here because then she wouldn’t need to feel guilty. Jena tipped her head back, putting it on the pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Joel had never got to the point in his life when he’d wanted to put stars up there, or posters of half-naked girls, or – hell – he’d never even made it to cars, or superheroes.
It just wasn’t fair.
She put her hands behind her, slipping them under the pillow so she could push it up higher, and then her fingers brushed something hard and cool. She rolled over and tossed the pillow away, revealing a small stainless-steel key. Jena let out a whoop of triumph and lifted it high.
‘What do you open?’ she said to herself. She moved to the dresser, but it didn’t fit any of the holes there, or anything else in the room.
What if Rose had given it to him and it belonged to a safe or something? A more recent diary?
Jena slipped the key into her pocket and ran down the stairs, nudging Rose’s door open with her toe. The bed had been made, all the drawers were closed, the curtains as well, in preparation for a night without the room’s resident. And yet, someone had left the bedside lamp on.
She entered, leaving the door open behind her, and made her way to the dressing table beside the bed. There were no locks on it, so she opened the top drawer and rummaged through.
There had to be something here to show Jena she was on the right track about what had happened. Rose had always kept notes, even if they were cryptic, like the one about Ernest and the roses. But there was no diary here.
So, where was it now? Rose had probably taken it with her; she’d probably known that Jena would snoop. What else could she have hidden? What was that key for?
Jena shut the drawer, frustrated at herself and at Rose, and then headed for the bookshelf. A lot of these books looked like they’d been here for years – hell, some had probably even been around back when Jena lived here as a child. She ran her fingers over them, stopping when she hit Each Peach Pear Plum. The spine was so worn she could barely see the letters, but she’d know the colouring, the blue spine with vines wending over it, anywhere. It had been her favourite book as a young child, and she was beyond surprised to see it was still here.
Carefully, she drew it from the shelf, holding it between her hands. It was one of those board books, fit for a baby, not easy to bend or break, and it looked so small in her adult palms. She flipped the cover open, a smile crossing her face at the familiar drawings.
‘Each Peach Pear Plum, I spy Tom Thumb.’ She went to turn the page again, but closed her eyes. ‘Tom Thumb in the cupboard, I spy Mother Hubbard.’ When she opened her eyes she grinned, seeing that she’d remembered right.
It had been Joel’s favourite book too, and Jena had read it to him often. She’d loved pretending she couldn’t see the characters and watching her little brother’s face light up at being able to point them all out.
Jena closed the book, but she didn’t put it back on the shelf. Instead she tucked it under her arm and went back to scanning the shelves.
As the afternoon wore on, she managed to get through every room in the house. She’d scrounged through the pantry and found an old packet of instant pasta that she was going to make for dinner. She’d discovered the family copy of the Edmonds Cookbook and hidden that in her bag alongside Each Peach Pear Plum. Hell, she’d even stolen a couple of photos from the frames in the hallway, and she figured she had every right to them – this place was going to be sold soon, and there was no way Rose could keep it all.
Jena would take what she wanted.
But she couldn’t find anything to help prove her theories true. And she couldn’t find any locks that matched the key.
There was only one place left to check.
The barn.
Will had been in the barn when she’d gone in there yesterday. He’d been upstairs, but he’d never said why and she’d been too freaked out to ask, too wrapped up in all the other things going on in her brain.
What had he been doing? And could the key open something up there?
A shiver spread through her body, but she squeezed the key hard, letting it dig into the palm of her hand.
If he was keeping secrets, she was going to find them, even if it meant she had to set foot in that place again. This time, she knew what might happen.
The afternoon was wearing on and it wouldn’t be long before darkness started to creep in, like a cat stalking a mouse. The sun had already dipped lower in the sky and there was no way she wanted to be in that barn when it got dark.
So, she set out with the key in her pocket, digging against her hip like a thorn, in the same way the knowledge that Will was keeping secrets dug at her chest. There was no point taking a weapon, because if he was right – and she really hoped he wasn’t – an axe, a knife, a gun, nothing was going to be able to prevent her from being sucked back into the past. Instead, she was armed with headphones and an upbeat playlist. The music blared in her ears, kept her feet moving forward and her hands relatively steady.
At least, until she reached the door.
Jena sucked in a deep, shaky breath, drawing the air all the way down and holding it before exhaling just as slowly. And then she lifted her hand and pushed the door open, her eyes going straight up to the open space in the roof where the birds had crashed through. Will must have cleaned up, because there wasn’t a trace of plastic on the ground, just that gaping hole, jagged edges like teeth. They seemed to inch closer to her, to gnash.
Jena couldn’t repress the shudder that ripped through her body and she took a step back without even meaning to.
No. She had to do this. She had to know what Will had been doing upstairs.
Tearing her eyes from the hole she focused on the floor of the barn; the light scattering of hay, the sunlight, the smell of dirt and dust, the prickle of her nose that was so familiar in here. She moved forward, despite her feet feeling like blocks of concrete, until her hands clasped the wooden railing of the stairs that led to the mezzanine. Only then did she look up again, following the evenly spaced steps to the point where they broke through the floor above. Up there lay the answers she was looking for, and she was ready now, ready to see what Will was hiding.
Jena moved up the stairs quickly, wanting to put distance between the ground floor and herself. When she breached the hole in the floor, she realised it was like another world up here, the light brighter, the dust motes clearly visible in the air on the beams of light streaming through the side window. She sneezed and rubbed at her nose.
Best be quick.
The place was
crowded with stuff: a desk, a filing cabinet, lots of boxes, a couch. She went to the desk first, opened the biggest drawer and saw a video camera. Jena frowned. What would that be doing here? She flipped open the viewing screen and hit the rewind button to watch Will leaving and entering the barn several times.
Jena pursed her lips together. ‘Motion sensor? Which means ….’ It meant he must have a clip here of what happened in the barn the other day. The day she seemed to slip back into the past.
She returned the device to its drawer and slammed it shut, her fingers trailing over the other drawers until she found a little keyhole.
Bingo.
Jena dug the key from her pocket and dropped into the chair, slipping it into the lock and turning. It clicked satisfyingly, and she couldn’t supress a grin.
‘Got you,’ she whispered. She pulled open the bottom drawer. A laptop sat on top of everything else and she brought it out, flipping up the lid only to find a lock screen. ‘Fuck.’
Of course, it was locked. And there was no way she was going to be able to figure out the password; Will was a virtual stranger. Still, that video had to be on here somewhere, and when he got back, she was going to make him show her.
Jena riffled through the rest of the drawer, but didn’t find anything super-interesting. She rolled the chair over to the filing cabinet, pulling out the bottom drawer, only to freeze when she saw her family name on one of the labels.
‘What the hell?’ She pulled the whole file free before rolling back to the desk and flipping it open. There were photos of the farm from years ago, clippings from newspapers about the fire, even one with a photo of her that someone had snapped on the night it all happened. Her heart stopped beating as she ran her fingers over the face of her childhood.
She’d been so young, so innocent, but the dark circles under her eyes were like pools, and she was drowning.
