“Are you okay?” Christine asked. I felt her hands on my back, warmth in the cold hell.
I nodded but refrained from an explanation. I wanted to be sure first. The pain in my mind continued to beat, the base becoming a consistent nag. It still lingered, the echoes bouncing on the hollow of my skull. The echo of someone in pain.
Straightening up, I took a deep breath and let it flow around my body as the pain slowly began to subside. First, the wall of desperation as I stepped into the basement and now this. I didn’t need any more proof that something was down there with us, yet I wanted to be able to give Christine a more definitive answer.
I produced the key from my pocket and inserted it into the lock. Twisting it, I heard the click as the lock disengaged and then I pushed the door open. It swung inward without sound, revealing the inside of the room. For a second I lingered on the threshold as I was hit with a barrage of pleas inside my mind. Then they died down just as instantly as they had begun. I glanced back at the two women who had seemed to come together, their arms interlinked and matching looks of concern on their faces. Maybe Laura understood more of this than she was willing to let on.
It was time to deal with this. I had offered my help and the only way I was going to figure this out was by being brave enough to immerse myself in it.
I stepped inside and found myself alone and colder than I ever had been. Another barrage assaulted my mind and for a second all I could think to do was push my hands against my ears. The din was like a thousand voices talking over each other at once, clamouring to be heard. The hairs on my arms stood on end as I stared at the formation around me. The room was circular in shape, the ceiling higher than that of the basement itself. Either this room had been purposely built and then sealed up, or the ceiling in the whole basement had been lowered.
The thing that caught my attention the most, as I began to drown out the voices, were the arches. Each of them was blocked up with plaster, just like Christine said, and had a smooth finish. I spun in a complete circle, taking in each of them individually. Passing the doorway, I spotted Christine and her friend Laura peering over her shoulder just at the threshold like they were scared to even step into the room. The arches all looked exactly the same, each of them plastered recently and finished well. I stopped when I came full circle.
There was definitely something odd about this room. Other than the voices that demanded my attention, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Dropping my bag on the floor, I hurried to find what I wanted. I grabbed hold of the infrared temperature monitor and held it up. The whole time I walked around the room checking different spots and even trying it above me and near the ground, it came back as stone cold. I could have told anyone that just walking in there but this gave concrete evidence.
“What do you feel?” Christine asked, holding onto the door frame with white knuckles as if terrified she would be dragged inside.
I turned to face her. “There’s something in here.”
“I knew it.” She shook her head. “I just knew there was a reason he wouldn’t let me in here. I mean keeping a key and not letting me inside. That’s just odd.”
Behind her, Laura nodded.
“What would Tom be doing down here?” She pressed a hand to her mouth, tucking her knuckles neatly in between her teeth. “I mean, it’s an empty room.”
“You have no idea?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Like I said I didn’t even know the room existed for a while and then I thought it was just some old junk. I was stupid enough to believe him.” She scoffed. “Maybe I should have listened to those rumours.”
“What exactly were they?” I pressed.
She shrugged. “A bit vague, really, but they all had to do with Tom’s prowess as a man. He was basically painted out to be a male version of a siren.”
It sounded to me like the rumours were more about the man than the house. “I think when you’re married to someone you believe you can trust them. Don’t blame yourself.”
“Yeah,” Laura added, keen to get her point across. “Tom was a dick. He hid this from you, it’s not on you.”
“But what is it?”
“Honestly, right now I’m not sure. There is definitely something in here but so far, it hasn’t given me the sense that it wants to harm you.” In fact it gave a sense of panic. I wasn’t about to tell her that yet. All she needed to know was that she was safe.
“It doesn’t?”
I shook my head.
“How do you know?” Laura whispered. For the first time since I’d arrived, Laura looked at me with something other than scathing eyes.
“I can hear it in my mind.” Her eyes widened. “Like a sensation. I can feel the emotions. And there’s no danger.” I glanced at the floor as I realised how much I’d revealed. Ghost hunting was leaving me more exposed than I’d ever intended. After years of solid drinking, I’d finally given in to myself and admitted acceptance. I was in a weaker position now that I was listening to the voices in my head but at the same time, stronger for accepting who I am as a person. Yet it left me vulnerable to people like Laura who always wanted to know why and how. They didn’t need to know the ins and outs of my gift. Nobody did.
“Okay. That’s good. Right?” Christine stuttered, finding her voice and saving me from the growing awkwardness that had me wanting to run.
“Yes.” I nodded. “That’s good.”
“So what can I do? I know you say I’m not in danger, but now that I know that something is going on, I don’t much like the idea of leaving it here.”
“I’d like permission to come back another day.”
“You can’t do it now?” Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights and I thought for a minute she might start bawling.
“I need to do a little more preparation.” The truth of the matter was I needed to know which was the best direction to take from here. I needed some time to organise my thoughts and failing that, I needed to see Sylvia. “But you don’t need to worry. It’s in this room and nowhere else in the house. Just stay away from this room and you won’t experience anything.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure,” I nodded. “I suggest we lock up for now. I’ll go away and do a little more research and I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” Christine nodded. “Just make sure it’s locked.”
I nodded as I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the room. Even though there was no danger—I wasn’t lying—I was glad to be shutting the room back up. It almost felt like opening it had unleashed something that lay quiet and settled. Christine hurried backward out of the way, her small feet sliding across the concrete. I locked the door, double-checking, and handed the key over to her. She took it reluctantly and then turned on her heel, marching for the stairs and the comfort of her home above.
Back upstairs and glad to be in the warmth again, I saw Christine was beginning to regain some colour in her cheeks. Hearing the news that there was potentially something in your basement that you didn’t want there couldn’t be easy to hear. I had to remember that because although talking to dead people was becoming par for the course for me, it wasn’t a normal thing for most people.
I passed my number to Christine alongside my address should she need anything and I promised I would be back in touch in a few days. I would go to see Sylvia, then finish what I started.
I had to get myself ready to face Christine’s house at night. I knew there wasn’t anything untoward going on in her home. Although the fact that even just entering the basement left me feeling like I’d passed through a wall of despair was bad enough. I knew the first step I needed to take was a cleansing. When I’d gone to Christine’s initially I had nothing there with me to be able to complete the process. I needed time to clear my mind from the bombardment of noise.
The trouble was, Christine had called the day after and asked if I could do it sooner rather than later—Wednesday actually— before she was due to host a dinner party. I kn
ew it would make no difference. Her guests would be upstairs and they would have no idea there was something beneath them. But Christine knew and it was bothering her—a lot. The desperation in her voice was paramount. As much as I wanted to say that I was busy that night and rearrange a day, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. That meant I had to tell Olivia I couldn’t go to Amici’s as planned for our tea that night and that would mean telling her the truth. She was not going to like what I had to say.
I sighed, exhaling slowly, and rang the doorbell.
I heard the tramp of feet and then the door flung inward. I don’t know who she was expecting but her face lightened when she saw me. “Morning,” she greeted me. “You’re up early.”
I shrugged. “Just prepping for dinner.”
“Want to come in?”
“Sure.” I nodded and stepped past her. I caught the smell of coffee and grinned. “Is that a brew on the go?”
“You really can’t get enough of me, can you?”
“Nope.” I loped after her toward the kitchen. Set out much like mine, Olivia’s kitchen was light and airy. The back door had been replaced with one of those PVC ones and light streamed in through the window. I leaned against the wall—she didn’t have a table or chairs—and watched as she poured the coffee into cups, handing one across to me.
She took a sip as she leaned against the bench and then set her cup down. “So if you’re prepping for dinner, what are you doing here?”
Her question caught me off guard. “I wanted to see if you prefer mash or roast.”
“What?” Her brow furrowed.
“Potatoes.”
“Peyton, what is this really about?”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something that you’re not going to like.”
Her free arm crossed her chest in a sign of defence and I knew that already she was getting her back up. If there was one thing Olivia hated it was lies. This is why it was so important to bring her up to speed now before she found out one way or another.
“Go on,” she spoke, her voice terse.
“You know the other week when those two women came into the office and you told me not to speak to them?”
“Yes.” Her voice was like stone, hard and threatening.
“Well, a couple of weeks later when you went out for lunch they came back in. And I spoke to them.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped into a grimace and then hardened. Her eyes pierced me with their I’m-not-impressed look, one that I had grown to hate over the years. I dropped my head avoiding the rolling waves of disappointment she forced my way.
When she finally spoke, the word was like a bray. “Why?”
“It was just too good to pass up. I mean they were talking about it right in front of me and—”
“What did she say?”
“Christine, that’s the woman whose house it is, asked me to come over and check it out.”
“And have you been?”
“Yesterday.”
The glare intensified and I found that my feet were suddenly very interesting.
“So, you’re telling me after the fact?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” I shrugged. “I just hadn’t seen you.”
“You could have picked up the phone.”
“I knew you would act like this!” I snapped and then took a deep breath to calm my rising frustration. “I know you didn’t want me to talk to them, but I thought I might be able to help. That’s all.”
She held my eyes for a moment and then her gaze dropped. She sighed and I felt the anger rushing out of her as if she was expelling it. “I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I just . . . that job is important to me. It’s my livelihood. I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardise it.”
“I know.” I nodded, a swell of relief swarming over me. “And I won’t do anything. The minute Christine tells me to leave and it’s over, then that’s it.” I waved my arms in front of me, clearing the imaginary slate.
“Do you think you can help?”
“I hope so. There’s definitely something there but it’s not malevolent.”
“So, what are you doing next?”
“Well that’s why I wanted to come and see you, actually.”
“Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
“She’s asked me to go around on Wednesday night.”
“We’re going out for dinner.”
“Well, what I was thinking is that maybe you could come with me first. Then maybe if we have time we can grab dinner after.”
“Are you mad?” Her jaw dropped again and her arm slipped to her side betraying her utter shock. “You’ve only just told me that you talked to the woman—when I told you not to—and now you’re asking me to go on some ghost hunt with you.”
“Actually, I’m hoping a cleansing might do it.”
“So, you want me to assist in this cleansing. It’s not going to look good when Christine next goes to see Oakley and tells him about my extracurricular activities.”
“Why should it matter to him what you do outside of work?”
“It matters because the solicitors’ is a professional, no-nonsense firm. If they think I’m dabbling in something—”
“It’s not dabbling. You’re not turning into a witch, Olivia. You’re performing a cleansing. Anyone can do it.”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head.
“And if it works Christine won’t exactly go running to spill the beans. She’s going to be grateful. At least think about it?”
“Okay.” She nodded at last. “I’ll think about it. But I can’t promise anything.”
I grinned. “That’s fine. Now on to the subject of dinner, because it is important since I’m making tea for us tonight, would you prefer roast or mash?”
“Both,” she told me deadpan, raising her brow.
A few hours later when my doorbell went, I grinned, pushed my hair back from my face and trotted to the door. Olivia stood there and barged her way past me. “Smells good.”
“It should be. I’ve slaved over a hot stove for you.”
“And so you should.” She seated herself at the small kitchen table, facing outward with her back pressed against the radiator.
“It won’t be much longer, just waiting for the potatoes.”
She raised her brow and I knew the question she was asking but I ignored it. Instead, I thought it was about time I played the good host. After all she’d done for me, looking after her for a night I could manage. “Would you like a drink?”
“Do you have juice?”
I nodded and opened the fridge displaying the wide range of juices in the shelf. After giving up alcohol, I had to be sure I stocked up on something else and this had been my way forward, besides my constant craving for coffee. I set the drink down after Olivia finally decided which one she wanted and finished prepping the meal, plating it up. She glanced down at the plate and I saw the twitch of a smile on the corner of her lips. “You did both.”
“As requested.” I dropped into the seat opposite and grinned. I knew she was going to come with me on Wednesday. “So?”
“So, what?” Olivia stared at me.
“I invited you over for the gossip.”
“Are you seriously going to make me go through this?” She huffed and looked down at her plate but I saw the smile she tried to hide.
“Yes. Now spill.”
“Greg took me to a fancy restaurant in town. A place I’ve never been to, some Thai place. It was lovely.”
“I’m not asking for a restaurant review.” I shook my head. “What was he like? What did he wear? What did you talk about?”
“Whoa!” She held her hand up, but as she smiled I knew she was enjoying this. Olivia was ready to be grilled this evening. “He was very lovely, a perfect gentleman. He wore jeans with black shoes.”
“Black shoes, good.” I nodded.
“And a black jumper with a shirt beneath. He smelled great.”
&
nbsp; “Remind me what Greg looks like again,” I requested. “I think I was too busy figuring out how to get through my first five minutes of hell.”
“You can’t be serious. Matt wasn’t bad.” She frowned.
“No, he wasn’t. But considering the fact that I almost got chastised for not reading enough, I’m sure we’re not going to hit it off anytime soon. So, what did he look like?”
“Greg is quite tall, slender, but in a good way. He has nice arms.”
“You could tell from beneath his jumper?” My eyebrow raised.
“I have a good eye.” She shrugged. “He has mousy hair, kinda long for a guy but I liked it.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“What do you talk about on dates? Anything and everything.”
“Vague, but I’ll take it. And the rest?” I wiggled my brow this time.
“There is no rest. Like I said, he was a perfect gentleman, made sure I got in a taxi.”
“And the kiss?”
“There was no kiss.”
“You know it’s okay to kiss on a first date, right?” I tilted my head to the side as I regarded my best friend. Surely, she wasn’t that prudish.
“Peyton,” she scolded. “We got on and he was lovely but there was just . . . there was no connection.”
“So, no date number two?” I shook my head.
“No. But that’s okay. If anything, I think I made a friend.”
“That was not my intention.”
“It’s not all about sex and relationships, you know.”
“Shut up and eat your dinner.” I grinned as I resumed my gaze at my plate.
“That’s the house?” Olivia asked with wide eyes as the car made its way up the lane. I was thankful for the little things including her little red car that got us to the house within fifteen minutes. It had taken over an hour when I had to get the bus.
The Room of Arches Page 6
