‘If you like.’ Casting a nervous glance to the small door, she said in a tight little voice, ‘You’d better go and boil the kettle. Make my chocolate in Father’s mug… the big blue one.’
‘Aren’t you coming too?’
‘In a minute.’ She glanced at the small wooden door once more. ‘I have to make sure your present is safe.’
‘I won’t know the way out.’ She felt trapped, as though she were buried alive. Her heart was beating fast and her lungs felt as though they were being squeezed by two giant hands.
‘Here.’ Thrusting the candle into her fist, Ginny told her, ‘I don’t need it. I can find my way blindfold.’
‘If you’re sure?’ She wasn’t about to argue. She wanted to get out of this place. And never come back.
Ginny gave no answer. Instead she walked away.
When she could no longer see her, Lianne called out, ‘A minute, then? I’ll have your chocolate ready… in Daddy’s mug, just as you asked.’ She couldn’t see the logic behind that, but then Ginny was not given to logic.
From somewhere behind her came the sound of a door closing. The sound bounced round the cavern, echoing from the walls and putting the fear of God in her. ‘I’m leaving you here,’ she called out, hoping Ginny might still change her mind and come with her.
The silence was eerie.
Apprehensive, she retraced her steps, her eyes peeled for the stairway. ‘Daddy has to know what you’ve done,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘If you don’t tell him in the morning, then I will!’
Ginny softly closed the door behind her. In the darkness she took two steps to the right, until her leg met a hard boulder. With a sigh of relief she reached down, her long manicured fingers scuttling along the stone like a monster spider. When the fingertips alighted on a small box, she bent forward. Holding the box securely between her two hands, she opened it and withdrew the match. When the match was struck and the flicker of light gave some relief in the darkness, she went carefully forward.
Darkness followed in her wake.
Wedged in the wall at the far side of the room were four candles. After lighting each in turn, she sat cross-legged on the ground, her beautiful dark eyes drawn forwards. ‘I couldn’t get her to come,’ she said. ‘She did promise to come and see you tomorrow though.’ In the candlelight, her smile was never more beautiful, her words never more sinister. ‘But… tomorrow will be too late.’
The darkness played in and out of the candlelight.
She sighed impatiently. ‘You haven’t got much to say, have you?’
The candlelight flickered. Shadows moved, closing in.
‘I know I promised she would be here,’ Ginny apologised, ‘and I did try.’ She laughed. ‘At first it was only a ruse to get you into this house. If I hadn’t said she would be here, that she wanted to see the dirty pictures… even wanted you to mate with her…’ The idea made her chuckle. ‘If I hadn’t said all those things, you would never have been enticed, would you?’ Tapping her nose knowingly she whispered, ‘You forget I know what a cunning old fox you are.’
Anger hardened her voice. ‘We were all right, weren’t we, you and me? I let you touch me, didn’t I? I looked at your dirty pictures and I let you touch me.’ Picking up a small stone she slammed it at the wall, shaking her head in a rage, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. ‘Why did you have to spoil it all? Why did you have to make improper suggestions to her? Wasn’t I enough for you?’ With each word her voice heightened, until she realised she might be heard, even as far down as this. ‘Shh!’ Pressing her fingers to her lips she glanced round, smiling again, her mood swiftly changed. ‘We don’t want them to hear us, do we?’
Quiet now. Nothing left to say.
From somewhere inside the wall a rat could be heard scuttling along. Cocking a thumb in the direction of the noise, she chuckled. ‘That must be the one that got away.’
The noise continued for a moment. When it ceased the silence was unbearable. ‘Got to go,’ she said brightly. ‘Can’t stay chatting with you all night.’
Getting up, she groaned. ‘This ground is so damp.’ She rubbed her knees and wiped her hand across the back of her jeans. ‘I expect you feel it more than me,’ she remarked casually. ‘After all, you’ve been down here a few days now.’
Somewhere in the distance the moisture from the walls made a rhythmic sound as it dripped to the stone floor, drip, drip, drip.
‘It’s lucky you’ve got no family, or you might have been missed.’
One of the candles flickered and died. ‘Bugger it!’ After relighting it, she plucked it from its safe place and went to the corner of the room. Here she slipped her hand into a crevice and withdrew a sheaf of papers. ‘I can’t leave these here,’ she explained. ‘Mustn’t be careless. The old lady was careless and look where it got her.’ She caressed them as though they were a lover. ‘They might be safer hidden in the bakery.’ Out of the corner of her eye she gave him an intimate little smile. ‘No one knows I’ve got them, except you,’ she whispered, wagging a chastising finger.
A thought occurred to her. ‘Would you like to see them?’
Cocking her ear as though waiting for an answer, she let the moment pass before replying. ‘All right. But you must promise not to tell anyone.’
She fell to her knees. ‘I haven’t shown them to anyone else,’ she said coveting the papers.
When they were spread on the ground, she cried excitedly, ‘Look there!’ Pointing a shaking finger at the first photograph, she explained, ‘That’s my great-grandmother… Virginia Louis. Did you know I was named after her?’ She smiled proudly, waving her beautifully manicured fingers over each picture in turn. ‘And do you see these other people?’
Again she waited for an answer. When none came, she frowned. ‘Of course, you couldn’t possibly know.’ Her voice fell to a whisper. ‘These people were bad. My great-grandmother was right to kill them.’
Sniggering, she carefully folded the papers. ‘Americans don’t hang their murderers, you know. They burn them to a crisp in the electric chair.’ Hugging the papers close to her breast she rocked back and forth. ‘I have her blood in me. They didn’t tell me, but I always knew there was something. I’m glad I made it my business to find out.’ Her eyes flashed hatred. ‘They would never have told me.’ Her whole body stiffened as she stared at the door. ‘They tried to keep the truth from me.’ Her voice shaking with emotion, she went on, ‘Now they’re trying to keep her money from me. That’s why I have to punish them, do you see? They’ve been bad too. And my sister. Lying. Pretending.’ She turned away, the dark eyes awash with tears. ‘I won’t let them rob me!’
Again she cocked her ear as though intently listening. ‘That’s right,’ she said, ‘I don’t have to tell you.’
Down there, in that closed cavern, the air was rank. The darkness lurked all around, momentarily held back by a feeble flicker of candlelight. There was something else too. An evil so powerful it consumed everything normal.
Leaning forward, Ginny sniffed the air. ‘You do stink!’ she protested. ‘Don’t you ever wash?’
She chuckled at her own stupidity. ‘Of course, you can’t, can you? There’s no running water. And how could I carry a bowl of soapy water down here? That’s a stupid idea!’
Raising the candle she regarded her guest. ‘You haven’t got much to say, have you?’ she complained. ‘Cat got your tongue?’
The silence angered her. ‘All right. Sulk if you like.’ At once she was apologetic. ‘I suppose you’re wondering when you’ll be let out of here?’
Raising the candle she came closer. The face stared back at her. ‘You know I can’t let you go, so don’t look at me like that.’ She smacked the back of his hand. ‘Serves you right for being a dirty old man.’
She stared a moment longer, soaking the image into herself, so she could recall it for all time.
From his hard stone seat, Old Tom stared back with accusing eyes. His cap was pulled hard dow
n over his eyes, showing only the merest whisper of grey hair at either side. His skin hung in a multitude of wrinkles, yellowing now, sagging with a dead weight. Tiny rivulets of murky liquid escaped from the corners of his mouth and eyes, gently trickling, like the moisture down the walls.
Dressed in his best grey suit, the suit he was married in many years before, he made a macabre sight. His shocked and protruding eyes belied the grim smile, created by Ginny, and held in place with two little stones either side of his mouth. His gnarled hands were primly folded on his lap, and his legs casually crossed. He might have been waiting for tea. The truth was, he had been waiting for Lianne.
One side of his face was marred by congealed blood. It narrowed to a long thin trail down his neck and over his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry your suit was spoiled,’ she murmured. ‘Some people don’t know their own strength.’ Beside him lay the wedge of wood that had spattered his brains.
A glimmer of compassion moved her. She held his hand. ‘I have to go now.’ Reaching down she kissed him full on the mouth. When he wobbled she righted him. ‘Sorry,’ she said with a naughty little giggle, ‘didn’t mean to get you excited.’
In the candlelight his eyes shone like two bright marbles.
Blowing out three candles she took the fourth with her. Before closing the door, she told him, ‘Lianne won’t come down here again.’ Hatred marbled her voice. ‘Still, I expect you’ll all see each other in hell.’
Deeply troubled, Lianne was waiting at the kitchen door. ‘Whatever have you been doing all this time?’ she whispered harshly, ushering Ginny into the kitchen.
‘I told you. I’ve been guarding your present.’ She snorted angrily. ‘At least it’s better than that awful scarf you bought for me.’
‘Sit here, at the table, while I get your chocolate.’ Pulling out a chair, Lianne waited for her to be seated. ‘I’ve already boiled the kettle.’
‘I want it in Father’s mug.’
‘He won’t like it.’ She reboiled the kettle, scooped two spoons of chocolate into the mugs and poured on the hot water. Taking the mugs to the table she put one before Ginny. The other she carried to her own place opposite Ginny, from where she could watch her every expression. ‘Why don’t you want the chocolate in your own mug?’
‘Because this one belongs to the head of the house.’ Raising the mug she greedily sipped from it, sighing with satisfaction as the hot liquid slithered down her throat. Kissing Old Tom had put a nasty taste in her mouth, and she needed to wash it away.
Lianne had a feeling she was being laughed at. ‘I still don’t understand what you mean,’ she said lamely.
‘I mean exactly what I say.’ Tapping the side of the mug, she spoke in a slow methodical manner, as though addressing an idiot. ‘This mug belongs to the head of this household, doesn’t it?’
Shifting her gaze to the large blue earthenware mug, Lianne nodded. ‘I know that much,’ she replied patiently. ‘What I don’t know is why you wanted your chocolate in it. What’s wrong with your own china mug?’
Clicking her teeth, Ginny dropped her head to her hands and stared at the table. ‘You really are thick,’ she grumbled.
Lianne was hurt. ‘That’s an unkind thing to say.’
‘Then don’t be so bloody stupid!’ Looking up, Ginny met her gaze and held it.
Convinced that Ginny meant to have an argument, Lianne scraped back her chair and stood up. ‘I’m going to bed.’ She felt somehow used. She was also desperately anxious about Ginny’s state of mind. All the same, there was little she could do until the morning, and the last thing she wanted at this unearthly hour was a fight.
‘Aw, I’m sorry, sis.’ Catching hold of Lianne’s hand, Ginny pulled her back to the chair. ‘Sit down. Finish your chocolate, and I promise I won’t be spiteful.’
Lianne sipped at the hot liquid, her gaze intent on Ginny’s face. ‘You will talk to Daddy in the morning, won’t you?’ She couldn’t get the sight of those poor creatures out of her mind. This time she had no intention of letting Ginny get away with it. ‘If you don’t tell him what you’ve done, I will.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll tell him.’ He won’t hear me, but I’ll tell him anyway, she thought.
‘Promise.’
Ginny laid a hand across her breast. ‘Cross my heart.’
Lianne took another sip. The chocolate was getting cold. Something else was playing on her mind. ‘You shouldn’t have watched me and Dave. And to tell the others… oh, Ginny, that was just hateful.’
‘I won’t do it again.’ Because there will never be another time, she vowed silently.
‘Next time we’ll go somewhere you can’t find us.’
Ginny laughed aloud, instantly alarmed that the sound might travel. ‘Shh!’ The two of them glanced to the ceiling. ‘We mustn’t wake them.’ It warmed her cold heart to think they would never wake again.
‘It’ll take more than you laughing to wake them,’ Lianne reminded her. ‘Our mum could sleep through an earthquake, and Daddy was dog-tired even before he went out.’
‘So?’ Digging into her jeans pocket, she took out a packet of Players and the box of matches brought from the cellar. Lighting a cigarette she took a deep drag and offered it to Lianne. When it was refused she said churlishly, ‘Oh, I forgot, you don’t have any bad habits, do you?’
‘Enough, I suppose.’
Regarding her through slit eyes and a haze of smoke, Ginny asked pointedly, ‘So you’d like there to be another time, then? With Dave, I mean?’
Blushing pink, Lianne lowered her head. Wondering how to answer, she concentrated on the swirling dark liquid in her cup. She felt angry. Embarrassed too. Ginny had a way of touching the dark places where secrets lived.
Ginny revelled in her sister’s embarrassment. ‘Seems like the cat’s got everyone’s tongue,’ she teased. ‘Answer me, sis. Either you want there to be a next time or you don’t. Which is it?’
There was no escape. ‘I want there to be a next time.’
‘He was that good, eh?’ Just a flicker of envy. But it didn’t matter any more. In the morning the slate would be wiped clean.
The pretty eyes were upturned now. The blush deepened. ‘I think I love him.’
For what seemed an age Ginny drew on her cigarette. ‘Does he love you?’ she asked, blowing the smoke out through her nose.
‘Maybe.’
‘What kind of an answer is that?’
Lianne shrugged her shoulders. ‘He says he does.’
‘Hmm.’ Another long drag on the cigarette. A slurp of chocolate, then she dipped the cigarette into the cooling liquid. It made a comforting, sizzling sound. ‘Did he use a rubber?’
Lianne reeled. ‘A rubber?’
‘A French letter… prick sheath… call it what you like. Did he use one?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘So he could have planted a baby inside you?’
The colour drained from Lianne’s face.
‘I shouldn’t worry about it, though.’ Ginny had her own sinister reasons for comforting her. ‘He probably did use one. I mean, he’s got a great career lined up for himself. He won’t want to be lumbered with some bawling brat, will he?’
Suddenly Lianne’s whole world was turned upside down. Suppose it was true? Just suppose she really did have Dave’s baby growing inside her? Visions of her parents looked tall in her mind. Please don’t let it be true. ‘You don’t really think he’s made me pregnant, do you?’
‘No, of course not.’ She hadn’t reckoned on the possibility of killing two birds with one stone. The idea amused her enormously.
A moment while each grappled with disturbing thoughts.
‘You know those red shoes?’
Thrown by the sudden change of subject, Lianne took a moment to adjust her thinking. Mentally shaking off her dilemma, she injected a tone of normality into her voice. ‘The high-heeled ones with the ankle-strap?’
‘Hmn. Can I have them?’ All things considered,
she could easily just take them. After tomorrow, neither Lianne nor her parents would be in a position to complain. But taking Lianne’s shoes without permission, well, it did seem a very impolite thing to do.
‘You mean borrow them?’
She quietly smiled. ‘If you like.’
Lianne didn’t hesitate. ‘’Course you can,’ she said, ‘as long as they come back clean and polished. The last time you borrowed my scarf, it was returned covered in mud and grass.’ She leaned forward, looking Ginny in the eye. ‘Anyone would think you’d been lying in a field.’
‘Stuart’s fault,’ she said. ‘He couldn’t wait until we got to the barn.’
‘That sounds more like you than him.’
Grinning with pleasure, she whispered cuttingly, ‘From what I saw of you with Dave, you’re not much different.’
‘I hope I am.’
‘Cow!’ Pushing back her chair she stood up, yawning and stretching. ‘It’s been a long day. Time we were both in bed.’ Until the whole household was fast asleep, she couldn’t put her plan into motion. The sooner it was done the better.
‘Wait for me.’ In a minute, Lianne had taken the cups to the sink, where she filled them with hot water. ‘Chocolate makes such a mess,’ she remarked, rubbing her finger round the inside of the rim.
‘Never mind that.’ Impatient now, Ginny switched off the light. ‘And be quiet, or you’ll wake them.’
Before they parted company on the upstairs landing, Ginny had one more favour to ask. ‘Can I have your long black coat as well?’
‘I said you should have got one instead of that awful brown leather thing.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ Ginny replied indignantly. ‘I love my leather coat.’
‘So why do you want my black one?’
Sauntering to her own room, Ginny took her time answering. ‘It’s more fitting for the occasion.’
‘What occasion?’
‘Can I have it?’
‘Only if you tell me what the occasion is.’
Again she made Lianne wait for an answer. As she closed her door, she murmured, ‘I need it for a funeral.’
Straining her ears, Lianne daren’t call out too loud. ‘What did you say?’
No Heaven, No Hell Page 22
