by R. M. Walker
They went out calling goodnight to her. Matt hesitated in the doorway then came back towards her. “If you need anything, shout. We’re next door, okay?”
She scooted off the bed and touched his arm. “Thanks, Matt, I appreciate you and your parents letting me stay here.”
“Did you go with your mum before when she had to go?”
“Maybe twice a year, if that. It’s usually on the weekend, and we’d combine it with a shopping trip to London as well,” she said. “They take a lot of her work and sell it for her, but it’s on a contract basis, which they keep renewing. I guess the contract must be nearing its end.”
Matt caught her hand in his, and before she knew what he intended, he bent forwards at the waist and pressed a kiss to her lips. He backed up, grinned at her, then swooped down again. His lips smoothed side to side over hers, and it sent a ripple of pleasure down her spine. His other hand slid onto her waist as he tilted his head and kissed her again before drawing back. He licked his lips, his eyes opening slowly, as his smile grew.
“Sleep well.” He lifted his hand to her face and drew his fingers down her cheek. He gave her another smile and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Lily was rooted to the spot. Her lips tingled from his kiss, her cheek from his touch. She lifted her fingers to her lips and let out a shuddering breath. That was more than a friendly peck. It wasn’t like she’d seen some of the kids kissing at college, all tongue and lip-locking explorations of passion, but neither was it a friendly kiss.
Her experience and understanding of how the male mind worked could be written on a postage stamp with room to spare. She didn’t know what to make of it at all. It messed with her head and made her feel guilty. Maybe her mother had been right; maybe Matt did want her to be his girlfriend. That thought filled her with a delighted elation that made her hug her arms around herself. But as soon as it came, it was swept away with the knowledge that she wanted them all to kiss her like that. All of them.
Did that make her easy? Letting four boys all hold her hand and kiss her wasn’t how most people acted. Was she sending the wrong signals? Did they think she was easy because she wasn’t stopping them? Should she stop them? Did she want to stop them? No. She didn’t know much, but she knew in her heart she didn’t want to lose that contact with any of them. What on earth did that say about her?
~*~*~*~
Lily woke abruptly. The room was pitch black, no light shone from anywhere. She turned onto her side. A scratching sound made her freeze. Holding her breath, she stayed perfectly still, listening intently. She waited for what seemed like hours but heard nothing. With her eyes wide against the darkness, she slid her hand under her pillow. As her fingers touched the edge of her phone, the noise sounded again, louder this time. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she broke out in a sweat. It came again, like claws on a wooden floor.
Did they have a cat? She didn’t remember seeing one.
She fumbled her phone and drew it out, blinding herself with the sudden light from her screen. She turned it away from her, scrambling to switch on the bedside lamp with shaky hands. A warm glow illuminated the room, and she peered around her. There was nothing in the room, no cat, no animal at all. She sank back against her pillows, her heart still racing.
Was she getting paranoid? She’d never had trouble sleeping before. Her imagination was never a problem, but now she was becoming frightened of her own shadow. It started with her seizure at the mill then Nate and the others telling her about things she didn’t want to know. Not to mention watching gravity defying candles, freaky flying balls then being whisked here in the blink of an eye. And how did they do that if they didn’t have wings? She shook her head; it was no wonder her imagination was off the charts at the moment.
Feeling calmer, she sat up and peered down at the floor around her bed. The entire floor was carpeted. More proof it was only her imagination. Feeling silly, she blew out her breath and lay back against her pillows, shivering at how cold she was starting to feel. She was allowing herself to get carried away with what they’d told her, and it was crossing into her dreams.
Maybe it would be easier if she’d never come to Trenance, never met the boys. But when she thought about not knowing them, it filled her with a sense of loss that made her heart hurt. It was worth almost anything to know them, even if it did mean accepting things she’d thought impossible. They were her friends. They were working their way deep into her soul, and she never wanted to be without them. They’d told her they would be there for her, and at least for now, they meant it.
She reached over, switched off the lamp, and checked her phone. Her home screen was now a selfie of the four of them in the college canteen, pulling funny faces. They’d taken it one lunchtime then saved it on her phone. It never failed to make her smile. She turned the screen off and moved to slip it back under her pillow.
The scratching noise started up again immediately, and her heart flipped. She was not imagining it. Her fingers, cold as ice, fumbled to turn her phone on again, and she sat up, reaching for the lamp in the glow of her phone screen. Her fingers searched for the switch, and relief filled her when she found it.
It didn’t work. No comforting light shone from the bulb.
Her heart raced as she flicked it on and off but still nothing. The phone gave off little light, barely enough to see the edges of her bed, and it did nothing to alleviate the dense black that surrounded her. Sweat dripped down her face, but the room was icy cold; so cold she could see her breath misting in front of her. The unease morphed into fear as she angled the phone, peering into the dark corners of the room. Was that Matt’s vicar sitting on the chair with a huge monster looming beside him, ready to devour her? Her imagination was running amok, it wasn’t a vicar, it was her clothes, and the looming monster was the wardrobe. She shook her head for being so silly. There was nothing in her room. Damn Matt and his ghost stories.
Rats! Maybe they had rats, not dead vicars.
It wasn’t impossible this close to the river and in a house this age. They might be under the floorboards or between the walls. Her fear levels dropped slightly as rational thinking kicked in. It was most probably rats and nothing more.
The scraping noise started up, turned into a tapping, and terror flooded through her. Rats didn’t rhythmically tap.
It dawned on her that the noise was coming from under the bed, underneath her. Her breathing shallowed out as her heart tried to beat itself out of her chest. The tapping stopped, but the silence was almost worse.
“Who’s there?” she called out, trying to sound confident but failing as her voice cracked at the end. She needed to get the main light on. Screwing up every inch of her remaining courage, she began to inch her way to the edge of the bed, holding her phone high. Her eyes darted around her. She reached the end of the bed, too terrified to even think of putting her feet on the floor, but now her back was exposed. The darkness was all around her, pressing in on her. It was going to get her. Whatever it was, it was going to reach out and touch her. Or worse.
The bed creaked, and the mattress shifted as if someone had sat down behind her. It freed her body and her vocal cords as she shot across the room, screaming as she hit the wall switch. Nothing happened. No light filled the room.
She cried out, frantically flicking the switch, but the light remained out. The tapping noise started again, and she heard the bed creak. She fumbled for the door handle. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, but she was too petrified to look behind her. She pulled on it desperately, but it wouldn’t open.
It was behind her, she could hear it. It was right behind her. She was going to die.
The door suddenly opened, and she almost fell backwards. She shot herself out into the corridor, almost tripping over her own feet. The overhead light was on, and the sudden warmth hit her. She didn’t wait. She scrambled towards Matt’s room and tugged on the handle. She couldn’t stop herself from looking back at h
er room. The black hole of her doorway was empty of anyone or anything. She shook the handle, trying hard to tug it open. Had they locked it? Had they locked her out?
Tears began to creep down her face as she looked back again. She caught her breath and froze as slowly, inch by inch, the door closed. She was stuck, unable to move, her breathing so erratic it was making her feel faint. She couldn’t drag her eyes away. Someone was behind the door. Someone was in her room.
It suddenly swung open, slamming loudly against the wall. She cried out and struggled again to get Matt’s door open, terrified of what was coming for her. She banged on the wood with one hand, and it abruptly swung open. She stumbled inside, closing it behind her with a slam as she fell back against it, breathing heavily.
“What the fuck! Who’s there?”
Lily screamed at the sudden shout, and she heard a thumping noise. The bedside light came on, and Nate sat up, his hair all over the place, squinting as he struggled to see without his glasses. Matt knelt by the bed from where he’d fallen out. The twins were crouched on a mattress at the bottom of the bed. They were all here. She shuddered in relief and slid to the floor, her knees giving out on her. She was shaking badly, her hands and body still icy cold.
“Lily?” Josh sounded sleepy and confused.
“There’s something in my room,” she croaked, still unable to move from where she was hunched.
“What? A spider? You want us to get rid—Lily? Shit, what’s happened?” The twins were kneeling in front of her in seconds, their hands on her arms.
“You’re freezing! Did you have a bad dream?”
“Something woke me up. There was someone in the room,” she whispered as they lifted her to her feet and led her towards the mattress.
“You probably dreamt it. Matt and his stupid stories of ghosts. Stay with us. You’ll be okay, we promise,” Josh said.
She drew in a deep breath, letting them sit her down in the middle of the mattress.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she said, shivering as the cold continued to seep through her. Josh wrapped a blanket around her and knelt beside her. “I woke up, but I don’t remember why I woke up. I heard a noise in the room, so I switched on the lamp, but there was nothing there. I thought it might have been rats, so I tried to go back to sleep, but it started again. I tried to switch the lamp on again, but it didn’t work. It was underneath me. Whatever was making the noise was under the bed, and it sat on the bed behind me, and then that light didn’t work. I couldn’t open the door. And it was behind me! It was behind me!”
“Hey, hey, slow down!” Nate shot from the bed and crouched in front of her. “Slow down, Lily, you’re hyperventilating. C’mon, you’re okay. Breathe with me.” He caught her face in his hands, his gaze holding hers.
She lifted her hands to his and concentrated on matching his breaths. Her breathing became slower, and the shaking began to ease.
“I wasn’t dreaming,” she said. “Someone slammed the door open.”
“I’ll go check,” Matt said.
She let go of Nate to catch at Matt’s ankle as he passed her.
“No, don’t go in there!” she begged him.
“We’ll go as well,” Jake said and stood up. “Was the door jammed or locked?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t open it, and then I could.”
“It’ll be fine.” Nate got up. “Wait here.”
She stumbled to her feet, gripping the blanket around her. She didn’t want to go back there, but she didn’t want to be left on her own either.
Her door was closed again, and she watched as Matt opened it. She crept towards them, enough of a coward to stay behind Josh. Her hands clutched the blanket around her.
“Bulb must have blown,” Matt said as he flicked the light switch. Nate went across to the bedside lamp and tried it, but that didn’t work either. She peered over Josh’s shoulder, her eyes taking in the dark, empty room.
“It’s freezing in here,” Josh muttered and rubbed his arms as he stepped forward.
Lily stayed on the threshold as she looked around the room; nothing was out of place, and there was nothing there.
“No wonder it’s freezing in here,” Nate said from the window. One of the large sash windows was wide open behind the curtains. He shut and locked it before drawing the curtains again.
“Mum must have opened it to air the room out and forgot to shut it,” Matt said, looking around.
“It was under the bed,” she mumbled, not about to lift the covers and see what evil crouched under there.
“Nothing will fit under there, Lily. Not even a rat.” Matt drew back the valance sheet, showing her the baseboard that left no gap between the bed and the floor.
There had been something under there, and it’d got onto the bed. She was sure of it.
“There’s nothing here.” Josh put his arm around her. “You must have been dreaming, baby.”
She shook her head, certain that it hadn’t been a dream. But there was nothing there, no one in the room, and no way for anything to be under the bed.
“Let’s go back to bed.” Nate yawned. “You want to sleep here or kip with us?”
Lily bit her lip, looking at the base of the bed. She didn’t even want to be in this room, let alone try and sleep in it.
“Nah, she’s still freezing,” Jake said. “She’s sleeping between us tonight.” He took her hand, and together they led her back to theirs.
Relief flooded her as she settled down on the mattress. The twins settled on either side of her, backs towards her.
“I’m sorry. This was my fault,” Matt said as he got back into bed. “I shouldn’t have told you about the vicar just before you went to sleep. Probably gave you nightmares.”
“I wasn’t dreaming.” She knew that she hadn’t been dreaming, she just didn’t know what it had been.
“You probably were,” Nate said. “And when the lights didn’t work it made it worse. This place is ancient. It creaks and groans ‘cause of its age. A draft from the window probably caught the door and made it slam.”
She thought about her own little bedroom in the cottage and knew he was right. Old places did creak and groan, more noticeably during the night time. But she still knew in her heart that it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a draft. Drafts didn’t make tapping noises, and drafts didn’t sit on the bed behind her.
“I’m sorry I woke you all up,” she said.
“We’re not,” Josh said. He reached back and caught her wrist. “You’re still cold.”
They scooted back until their backs pressed into her arms. She was too scared and cold to give much thought about sleeping between two boys. Glad of the warmth, she started to relax.
“Should have kept you in here anyway. Tomorrow night you’re between us,” Matt said as he put the light out, and the room sank into darkness. She tensed up, unable to see into the unrelenting black around her.
“Shh.” Josh turned enough to press his lips briefly under her ear. “Go to sleep, Lily Pad. There’s only us here.” He turned away again, pressing his back firmly against her.
She lay there, staring up into the darkness with her heart still hammering in her chest. She’d never encountered such darkness and silence before moving to Trenance, and it unsettled her. Living in towns and cities, the light pollution at night was high. There were always streetlights on, and it was never silent, even in the early morning hours. Traffic passing, sirens shrieking out, people going to work early or coming home late. Background noises she didn’t even notice until they weren’t there.
An owl hooted outside, and she jumped.
Josh sat up, making her jump again. “Matt, you still got that plug from when you were a kid?”
She heard Matt moving around, and the light came on.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s not a problem, babe,” Jake said through a yawn.
Matt rooted aro
und in his closet then crouched by his computer desk. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he got back into bed and switched off the light, a warm red glow took away the dark corners of the room. He’d plugged in a night light. She was too grateful to be embarrassed.
“I hope it doesn’t keep you awake.”
“It won’t,” Nate said.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears threatening at their kindness. She was happier now that she could see a little. She didn’t know what had happened in her room, but she did know she hadn’t been dreaming.
Jake turned onto his back, and his arm lay against hers. He turned his head, and his warm breath ghosted the side of her face.
“You’re safe with us, Lily Pad. You’ll always be safe with us” he murmured sleepily, his hand brushing against hers. She caught his fingers and sighed when he tightened his grip on her.
Twin kissing
Her eyes flew open; an ungodly noise crashed through tangled dreams of trees and fog so thick she couldn’t see. The horrific noise came again, and she blew her breath out on a sigh. It was a cockerel announcing to the world it was time to get up. It crowed again, and she winced. Lying on her back, her fingers were still entwined with Jake’s as he lay facing her, his head buried against her arm. Josh was lying on his front, his arm thrown over her waist and his face turned away from her. Snores came from the bed. When the cockerel started up again, she was amazed that they slept through it. The damn thing was loud enough to wake the dead.
The soft light of dawn was beginning to creep through the gaps in the curtains. She resisted the urge to stretch, not wanting to disturb the others yet. She remembered why she was between them and the abject fear that had filled her. She’d been certain that someone or something was in there with her and that it meant her harm. Now, in the cold light of day, she forced herself to think about it rationally. They’d said it was a dream, and lying safely between the twins, she wondered if they were right. Maybe the lights not working had made her imagination create things that hadn’t been there.
She wanted to believe it, but deep inside, she knew that it wasn’t a dream. She hadn’t been asleep when her bed had moved. She hadn’t been asleep when her door shut slowly, just to jerk open again. Maybe there was more to Matt’s vicar than imagination. Maybe he could pick up on her desire for all of them and that offended him. One thing was for sure, though: there was no way she’d be sleeping in there again. She’d rather go home and risk having a fit on the staircase than spend another night in there.
