Silent Treatment

by David James

  However, Sarah produced a larger box and said ‘This will do nicely. You do play don’t you Ben?’

  As Ben looked at the chess set that Sarah was holding he was reluctant to tell Sarah that he could barely play; her expression suggested that he would be playing chess with her.

  ‘Probably a bit rusty though,’ said Ben.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Sarah as she hurriedly cleared a small table.

  ‘We can rearrange the furniture a bit,’ said Sarah. She proceeded to move chairs and furniture around until the whole front room seemed to be arranged to focus entirely on the chess table.

  ‘It’s a bit too light in here,’ said Sarah and she shut the curtains and turned the lights down until the room was almost dark except for the light shining on the chess table and two chairs.

  Sarah ushered Ben towards the chair and they began to set out the pieces on the board. Ben was desperately trying to remember how the pieces should be arranged. He surreptitiously watched Sarah arrange her pieces and copied her movements hoping she didn’t notice.

  ‘You play often Sarah?’ said Ben. It was just a simple throwaway question as far as Ben was concerned, but he watched as Sarah seemed to be mulling over a reply.

  ‘I used to play with my father,’ she said gently.

  ‘You still play?’ said Ben.

  Sarah stopped arranging her pieces on the board and looked at Ben.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said sternly.

  ‘I just meant, well, do you still get to play chess much?’ he said trying to choose his words carefully.

  Sarah relented, ‘Ah, I see what you mean. Yes I still play, when I can.’

  He was even more confused than before; it seemed that he was having an entirely different conversation than Sarah.

  Ben was relieved when Sarah made her first move and the spectacle of the game started to take all of their attention. The sparse lighting in the room that had initially felt comforting was now beginning to feel a little oppressive.

  As the game progressed, Ben hung in there desperately, just trying not to make a stupid mistake and trying to remember how all the pieces moved. As he glanced up at Sarah, even in this dim light he could see that she seemed far away from this strange house in a strange village. Sometimes as she moved a piece she would smile, but the smile wasn’t intended for Ben. He half wondered who it was meant for.

  ‘Did the rest of your family play as well?’ said Ben as he tried to buy time to work out his next move.

  ‘Sometimes, but in the end it was just my father and I,’ replied Sarah.

  ‘Did they lose interest then?’ said Ben.

  Sarah continued to stare intently at the board and said casually ‘They had left the house by then.’

  Ben looked at Sarah, but she continued to stare at the board. She had never mentioned the rest of her family before to him.

  ‘Why did they leave?’ he said.

  ‘Things got a little, difficult. I wasn’t always an easy child. But my father knew what I needed, so it was decided that it was for the best.’

  To Ben there seemed so much in Sarah’s last statement, but Ben didn’t know how to reply, so he made a random move on the board.

  Sarah looked disappointed.

  ‘You don’t usually make it that easy for me,’ she said.

  It seemed an odd thing to say, but he decided to let it go. ‘And was it, for the best I mean?’ said Ben.

  This time Sarah looked up at Ben and said calmly ‘Checkmate.’

  He had hoped for something more from her, but he simply replied ‘I hope it wasn’t too bad for you.’

  Sarah couldn’t hide the disappointment in her face.

  ‘You shouldn’t make it easy for me,’ said Sarah.

  Ben hadn’t the heart to tell her that he certainly hadn’t made it easy for her, it was the best he could do.

  Ben stood up and looked out of the window and was surprised to see that it was dark now.

  'Can't believe it got so late so quickly,' he said.

  Sarah stood up and said 'I'll make the cocoa then shall I,' and with that she headed out to the kitchen. She paused at the kitchen door, turned and said 'I'll bring it up if you like, after you have done your locking up.'

  Ben got the feeling that this wasn’t the first time Sarah had made cocoa after the chess game. He wondered if it had been part of the ritual when she had played with her father. But what he was sure of was that he was obviously not as worthy an opponent as her father; she had made that abundantly clear to him.

  Ben was surprised how quickly they seemed to be settling into some form of domesticity. He still hadn’t told Sarah about the surveillance cameras, but the right time hadn’t seemed to present itself, he would tell her tomorrow.

  Ben began checking around the house, the doors and windows were all checked and he walked up the stairs to bed.

  As he sat on his bed, he looked around his room. It was a bit disorganised, he really must tidy and organise his stuff tomorrow.

  His door swung open and Sarah walked in holding the steaming cup of cocoa. He took it from Sarah and said 'Thanks,' taking a quick sip to show his appreciation. His lip nearly melted. But he managed to smile at Sarah.

  'Sleep tight,' said Sarah.

  'You too,' said Ben as she closed the door behind her.

  Sarah returned to her room. She undressed, turned the light off and pulled the bedding tightly around her. She felt surprisingly relaxed. It had been a good day.

  As Ben finished his cocoa and climbed into bed, he felt like he was a teenager again in his old family home. Maybe it was Sarah bringing him cocoa in bed – his mother had sometimes done that for him – or maybe it was the way Sarah seemed to have settled here; but whatever the reason, it had triggered memories of his own childhood.

  He had to remind himself that he was not in a normal family house here. Nothing was normal about this place.

  Chapter Fifty Two

  The family were all gathered around the table. There seemed to be everybody there including mother and father. But there was also Veronica and Jane, and creating havoc over their shoulders, their two children. The house looked great, glad to be back again.

  Looks like we are all going to play family games again. I suppose it is Christmas. Best sit down and join in I suppose; dad already looks pleased with himself. I really must concentrate and try and win this time.

  Must concentrate.

  Would be easier without that noise. Never mind. Wonder why nobody else has noticed it?

  How am I doing? Can't really tell.

  Wish that noise would stop. What is it? Can't hear what dad is saying.

  There it is again. It sounds like, like a...

  Bell.

  Ben sat up in bed. The image of his happy family fading quickly. What a strange dream. At least it was all quiet now, that infernal noise had gone.

  And there it was again.

  He must still be asleep. He must be dreaming about being asleep.

  The sound came clearly into his head again.

  He couldn't still be dreaming. Surely not? One way to find out.

  He threw himself out of bed, expecting to find himself magically back in bed as he woke up.

  All he could feel was the coldness of the floor under his feet. He was definitely awake now.

  He strained his hearing, but all was silent. Frustrated, he climbed back into bed and covered himself with the bedding. He tried to think of anything to help him get back to sleep. With his thoughts filled with an odd mixture of football, chess and cars he started to drift off again.

  He heard the noise again.

  He was fully awake in seconds and he could hear it more clearly. It wasn't a church bell sound, it was more high pitched and it reminded him of earlier and…

  He sat bolt upright. No, it couldn’t be that could it? A chill went down his spine. He realised he wasn't going to sleep any more tonight.

  He flung himself out of bed and stumbled around for his clo
thes, trying to dress quickly but silently so as not to disturb Sarah.

  Fully clothed he crept across the floor and turned the door handle carefully. It was only a few steps across the hallway and he started to descend the stairs; his feet inching forward.

  The stairs made a creaking sound completely out of proportion to the pressure he was putting on them.

  He was halfway down the stairs when he heard the noise again. It only lasted a matter of seconds, but he knew exactly what it sounded like to him. And he knew it wasn't possible that he was right.

  The last step was in sight and he sped up and reached the bottom. He paused to check he hadn't woken Sarah. There was no sound from upstairs.

  The front room was much easier to negotiate, and he grabbed his coat by the door and stopped.

  Perhaps he should get a weapon of some sort? Did he really need it? Since they had been here nothing had threatened them. But the damage at the other house had made him more cautious.

  He looked around and the best he could find was a walking stick that was placed by the door. It didn't look all that sturdy, but it would have to do.

  The door cooperated for once and he slid out of it silently.

  As he walked across the green, the grass was slightly wet and soon his trousers were soaking. He really must do something about cutting that grass.

  He heard the sound again and he stopped walking.

  He suddenly became acutely aware he was standing alone, in the dark, in the middle of this strange village. He quickened his pace now, whatever it was that awaited him he couldn't feel any worse than he did now.

  He knew precisely where to go. The post office came into sight.

  He calculated that if he heard the sound now, he would be able to cover the rest of the ground quickly enough to find out what was causing it.

  There was only silence as he approached the post office door.

  He checked the door; it was firmly shut. This made him feel even more tense. He pushed at the door to open it.

  There was the sound again, only much louder.

  He knew he was right now. The sound had been the old fashioned door bell ringing as the door had been opened.

  He didn't mind admitting he was frightened now. There was only one way the door could be opened. Someone, or something had entered.

  He tried to think of some other reason. Maybe the wind? Not a breath. The bell rang itself. You’re being stupid now. But the only conclusion was that Sarah and Ben were not the only people in this village.

  Reluctantly, Ben walked forward into the post office. He crept stealthily forward. In the near pitch darkness he could only make out vague shapes around him. The racks of leaflets and cards that had looked so quaint earlier on, now towered menacingly above him. He knew there must be a light switch somewhere ahead of him; but in the dark it would be mere luck if he found it.

  He crept slowly across the floor; desperately trying to remember what it had looked like in the light. He racked his brain, had he seen a light switch somewhere? Maybe on the back wall?

  He inched slowly towards the back wall and was relieved as he finally reached it. Try as he might he couldn't see what was on the wall so he decided that he would have to just run his hand along the wall and hope he could locate the light switch.

  He felt the cold temperature of the wall, it was unpleasant to the touch, but he ran his hand slowly along the wall.

  And then the cold feeling of the wall was replaced by a warm feeling as he touched something else.

  He flinched and withdrew his hand hurriedly.

  And then it all seemed to happen so quickly.

  From above his head he heard a scraping sound and this is what saved him. As he looked up he saw the magazine rack that had been towering over him lurch forward.

  He jumped to the side and watched as it crashed onto the spot he had been standing on.

  He ran.

  Gone was the caution as he stumbled, fell over, got to his feet and ran faster. Until he was standing at the door again.

  The noise from the bell rang out as he opened the door and stumbled away from the post office. He looked back at the post office as he ran towards the nearest building.

  There was the sound of the clanging of the bell. The door had been opened again.

  The problem was that he was now the wrong side of the post office to get back to the house.

  He was running anywhere as long as it was away from the post office. He could see the office building ahead of him. What choice did he have?

  He forced his legs to run faster than they were comfortable doing.

  Then the inevitable happened. He pitched forward and lost his footing.

  As he hit the floor he realised he was only a hundred feet from the gate on the front of the building.

  Avoiding looking over his shoulder; he scrambled upwards and half ran, half stumbled towards the building. He didn't look behind him. What was the point? What would happen, would happen whether he was looking or not.

  He crashed through the damaged gate and turned to the left immediately. He had remembered the window he had climbed in earlier.

  He reached the back of the building; leant up and wrenched the steel mesh away from the window. It had been a struggle last time, but this time he peeled it back as if he was opening a yoghurt pot. The adrenalin coursing through his body made him almost sick with strength.

  He hauled himself upright and crashed through the gap in the window and landed heavily on one of the desks. It would normally have hurt like hell, but the adrenalin took care of the pain.

  He slumped down on the floor and listened. His hearing felt almost superhuman now. But it heard nothing apart from his own heavy breathing which seemed so loud that he felt that it could be heard miles away. He forced himself to breathe more slowly and quietly and listened again.

  Still nothing.

  He felt something close to safe. He relaxed his shoulders; slowed his breathing down further and tried to calm himself. He could feel the adrenalin rush begin to abate. It had the unfortunate effect of allowing his body to realise how much he had been hurt. He could feel each new bruise and scrape identify itself in turn over his body. As far as he could tell nothing was broken.

  And then it dawned on him, in his haste he had left Sarah alone in their house.

  He couldn't just leave her there. Even as he was sitting here, something could be happening to her and that was too much to bear. He stood up and immediately crumpled back to the floor. The adrenalin had well and truly worn off now and his body was screaming in pain at him.

  His mind was starting to run at a more normal speed again which is why it took him longer than perhaps it should to notice.

  The screens on the wall were on and were displaying their views of the village.

  He knew he hadn't left them on.

  He switched the monitor on and the screen burst into life.

  And on the screen was the message Please re-enter your password Peter.

  He stood staring at the screen. If he had felt fear before outside, he felt it even more in here.

  This was not the person he had logged on as before. This was a new person. And they had used the computer since Ben.

  He turned around again to look into the room. Was that a sound?

  He dare not switch the light on; whatever had been in the post office would see it and know where he was. What had felt like a safe haven now began to feel like a trap.

  Please re-enter your password Peter.

  It should have said Steven, it should have looked just as Ben had left it the last time he had logged on.

  Even in his confused state, he knew what it meant. Someone else had used the monitoring equipment. Someone else was watching them.

  Chapter Fifty Three

  As Ben sat there he pondered if ‘Peter’ had sat there watching the whole village. Watching Sarah and Ben. The thought frightened him; how long had he been watching and were there more people than Peter? It seemed logical
.

  He watched as the monitors displayed the various views of the village. As it flicked from view to view, everything seemed quiet. But as he watched he noticed that there were new views that he hadn’t seen before. And they all seemed to be of the house they were staying in. In between the views of the post office and the restaurant, he saw views of their front room; their kitchen and his own room.

  And then he saw Sarah’s room again and instead of seeing her sleeping, it was empty.

  He was forced to watch a view of another empty house again and then the post office.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ he implored the screen. It seemed to be taking an age to change views now.

  And then it flicked onto their upstairs hallway and he watched as Sarah began to descend the stairs towards the front room. She walked quite calmly and to Ben it almost seemed as if she was in a trance.

  Restaurant.

  Empty house.

  Their front room.

  And there was Sarah again, in the front room and she seemed to be sitting down and hunched over...

  Then the view disappeared again.

  He couldn’t wait until the monitor showed their house again, he stood up and eased himself upwards and crawled back out of the window.

  It was almost completely light outside now. All seemed quiet and peaceful and almost idyllic. He replaced the mesh as he left, and walked cautiously away from the building.

  The village green looked a picture of tranquillity. The walk from the building to the post office, that had been a clumsy frightening stumble the night before, was a pleasant stroll. But he half ran, looking over his shoulder periodically until he had reached their house. He stood outside the door and listened, but he couldn’t hear anything. He flung open the door and rushed in.

  The room was empty.

  Before he could wonder where Sarah was he heard the sound of a door opening and Sarah began to descend the stairs.

  ‘Been for a walk have you Ben?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, just catching the air,’ he said, glad that she had given him the excuse without him having to think of it. ‘Did you sleep alright?’

  ‘Oh yes, fine, just got up actually,’ she replied.