There you go again, looking for that silver lining.
Well, she reasoned, it was a silver lining of sorts.
The day hadn’t proved fruitful. Concentrating mainly on the offspring of the Fowlers and the Dolans, she’d cross-referenced various publications again to find out how many they’d had between them. The Fowlers had had six, all girls, and the Dolans a mere two in contrast, both boys. Utilising mediums such as Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn, she couldn’t find one person that fitted the stats she had – which were woefully sparse in the first place. The plan she’d come up with regarding using the women’s names to provoke a response was still looking like the best option – if only she could press it into action. Growing tired, she’d left The Keep, returned to her flat and curled up on the sofa for a power nap, Jed materialising out of nowhere to join her. The power nap turned into a good couple of hours – the rest deep and energising, exactly what she needed. When she woke up, she checked her phone; she was due to meet Cash later in the pub. He’d texted to say he’d be in the Rights of Man at eight o’ clock, Presley would be with him initially as they were coming straight from band practice but then he was leaving to meet Corinna, so they’d have the night alone together. Something she was looking forward to. Pushing herself off the sofa, smiling at Jed who slumbered on, she made her way to the shower and stood for ages under the hot water, luxuriating. Afterwards, in the bedroom, she blew-dry her hair, pleased with the length of it. It was now a few inches past her shoulders and had a good shine on top, reminding her of a halo – a halo that at the moment felt a bit misplaced. Normally, she wore barely any make-up, but this time she applied foundation, mascara and lipstick – the works. She had a feeling about tonight – a frisson of excitement in her stomach – and so wanted to make more of an effort than usual. After Presley left, perhaps she and Cash would go somewhere a little more lively than the Lewes high street, catch a train into Brighton, go to one of the restaurants there or take advantage of the warmer weather and walk along the seafront, munching on fish and chips instead. The night was theirs to enjoy and enjoy it she would. Before leaving her flat, she texted Cash to say she was on her way but was popping into her office briefly to check messages. He’d texted back asking if it was really necessary she do that but as it was only 7.20 and she didn’t have to be at the pub until eight, she told him to stop moaning, she had time. His return message amused her: a ghost emoticon and a shrieking face emoticon side by side. In fact it made her laugh out loud. Yes, it was going to be a good night with nothing on her mind but the two of them. After she’d checked the answer machine that is.
As she locked her flat behind her, she shivered. It wasn’t that warm actually, there was a distinct nip in the air. Shame, because it had been a sunny day. Wondering whether to go in and grab a warmer jacket, she decided against it. Her denim one would have to do. Perhaps they’d stick to Lewes after all, leave the more lively locations for another time.
As she ventured up Irelands Lane and turned left onto the main drag, the excitement of earlier didn’t die down, it was still there in the pit of her stomach – the fluttering of butterflies. Just why was she feeling this way? It wasn’t as if it was the weekend. They could go to Brighton, absolutely, but they couldn’t exactly hop on a train to London, escape for a day or two, to languish in some top hotel somewhere, drinking champagne and making good use of the hot tub. Now that would be something to get excited about. Yet, the feeling persisted that this night was going to be different in some way – significant – a night to remember. Just outside her office she stopped in her tracks. Oh, God! Cash wasn’t going to ask to move in with her, was he? Take their relationship to the next level? Not that she’d mind if he did, as it wouldn’t be much different from the way things were now, not considering the amount of time he spent at hers. It’s just they hadn’t discussed it formally. As she fished around in her pocket for the office key, she stopped again, distracted by yet another thought. Was he gearing up to ask her to marry him? Is that what she was sensing? No, no, he couldn’t be! As much as she loved him, she wasn’t ready for that. Was she? She felt lightheaded at the prospect.
“Excuse me.”
So lost in reverie, the voice from behind startled her.
“Sorry,” she replied, moving out of the stranger’s way – it was a man with his head down and clearly in a hurry.
Staring after him, she shook her head as if to disperse her runaway thoughts and then a shiver coursed through her, a prickle at the back of her neck – a feeling that wasn’t quite so exciting – a feeling of unease. Familiar unease. She swung round. Was there someone else behind her? She peered back up the street. There was no one and why should there be? Reporters at the moment were more interested in Gilmore Street. It’s there they’d be camping out. Even the two parked outside her office had been gone for a while. Even so, her unease refused to dissipate. Again she scrutinised the empty street before deciding to get a grip on her imagination: Cash going down on bended knee? What a notion!
Reaching the door to her office, she opened it and ran up the narrow stairs. It was bitter up in the gods, the ancient walls of the building retaining rather than combatting the evening chill. Instead of turning the main light on, she dashed over to her desk and switched on the copper angle poise lamp – one of her recent bargain buys – and sat in her captain’s chair as she pressed ‘play’. There were only three messages, nothing too taxing she hoped.
“Hi, my name’s Ronnie. I’ve seen your website and I’m interested in the services you offer. We’ve just bought a house, my partner and me. I’m settled but he isn’t, he thinks there’s something ‘wrong’ with it. Greg’s got an active imagination if you know what I mean, but I’d like to put his mind at rest. Can I book an appointment for an initial survey?”
Ruby took down his name and number – she’d call him back tomorrow – then pressed play to continue onwards. As she did, she heard a creak on the stairs. Her head turned towards it but she didn’t pay it much heed. The building was old, it creaked all the time. The second message was another request for an initial survey. The day wasn’t so fruitless after all. The third was something different, it was from an old school friend of Ruby’s, mentioning that she’d read about her in the papers, thought that what she was doing was brilliant – ‘really unusual’ – and would love to get together for a chat sometime. ‘The paranormal fascinates me,’ her friend, Izzie, declared, ‘I never knew you had a talent for it. You kept that hidden!’ She certainly had. She was a teenager and didn’t want to stand out from the crowd. Besides, Izzie hadn’t been a close friend, Ruby had sat next to her in English when they’d had a bit of a laugh, exchanged exercise books for doodling over and even been out at night together, but they belonged to different ‘gangs’ essentially. Still, it would be nice to see her again. She’d call her tomorrow as well, set a date, and catch up on what Izzie had been up to. Hopefully her reasons for getting in touch were genuine.
Glancing at her watch, it was 7.50. She’d better get a move on or she’d be late. She could just imagine Cash making a fuss if she was. The scraping sound her chair made as she pushed backwards sounded ten times louder than it should have done. It was such a contrast to the silence. Dropping her pen on the table, she turned round, and as she did a shape loomed out of the darkness and lunged at her. She couldn’t react, couldn’t even scream. It wasn’t so much the shock of seeing a stranger in front of her that had struck her mute but the silver glint of what that person held aloft in their hand – a knife. The gleam of it dazzled as it caught the moonlight.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before the knife could make contact, slice through the thin fabric of her jacket to hit flesh, sinew and bone, Ruby jumped aside. Both the stranger’s cry of frustration and the weapon as it hit the hard wood of her desk chilled her.
“Ellie, is that you? What are you doing?”
Ruby was only surprised she could speak at all as frantically she looked beyond the figure, with the
intent of moving forwards, towards the door.
“You bitch,” the intruder spat, “you stupid bitch! How dare you?”
The stranger – definitely a woman – moved quickly too, blocking her path. She had a coat on, a long, dark coat and a hat. A scarf was pulled across her nose and mouth. How she wished she’d turned the main light on; it was impossible to get a good look at her. If it was Ellie, she was in disguise. The same height as Ruby and slim of frame, she had brogues on, flat shoes, brown, sensible. All this Ruby took in in an instant as her brain scrambled to make sense, frantically grabbing onto every detail, any detail, that might reveal who stood before her. Would Ellie wear shoes like that? No. Also her voice was different – Ellie’s was soft and lilting, this woman’s had a rasping quality to it. Despite her suspicions about her ex-client, this wasn’t her.
“Who are you?” she asked again. “Why are you doing this?”
Questions that wouldn’t be met with answers, she knew that. This woman was in no mood for a chat. She should save her breath and find a way past her. The woman’s arm raised again, the threat in her eyes all too clear.
“Don’t,” Ruby begged. What the heck was her problem?
As Ruby looked on horrified, the woman lunged again. Was she seriously trying to stab her? There was no time to stand and wonder – she had to act. Get away before the knife plunged deep into her, connecting with something vulnerable, her chest maybe, beneath which her furiously beating heart lay.
Ruby lunged forward too, met her head-on this time, not questioning the wisdom of it, the possibility of impaling herself. Luck, if you could call it that, was on her side. There was no piercing pain. Instead, as body crashed into body, the stranger fell back, as if she were made of nothing more substantial than feathers. Even in her shock and confusion, that fact registered. The woman might have a knife, but strength wise Ruby had the advantage.
The woman landed on her back as Ruby fell to her knees. She needed to get up. Straightaway. Get out of the office, onto the street, where she could yell for help. No one would hear her if she cried out here. For the millionth time she damned being up on high. She also questioned how the woman had got in. Hadn’t she locked the door behind her? Or had she just pulled it to? Although the door wasn’t quite as ancient as the building, you did have to use force to close it behind you, force that she now regretted not administering.
Placing her palms on the floor, she pushed herself upwards, aware of a throbbing pain in both knees as she did so. Nonetheless, she dismissed it, focussed on the door instead. It was so close. She could make it. It was just a few more steps. And then a hand darted out from below, grabbed tight around her ankle and yanked. It took her by surprise and she felt herself topple again, her head hitting the floorboards this time, not her knees. Immediately, a dark cloud descended, warm and comforting – a sanctuary – but only temporarily. The woman’s voice dragged her back from the abyss.
“You couldn’t let it be could you? For years I’ve been trying to escape and now you’ve brought it all back. You’ve brought him back. You fool!”
“Who have I brought back?” Ruby managed. “You’re not making sense.”
If she thought she could stall her opponent by talking, Ruby was wrong. The woman’s movements were awkward but she managed to rise, looming over her. Ruby continued to ask questions, not knowing what else to do.
“Your face, why are you hiding your face?”
She couldn’t see the woman’s expression but the hatred in her eyes was more than evident. It made her feel weak.
“Whatever I’ve done, however I’ve upset you, I’m sorry. Stop what you’re doing. Let’s talk. We can sort this out.”
“You’ve interfered when you shouldn’t have.”
“Interfered in what?” Ruby entreated. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve resurrected him.”
“Who?”
“HIM!” The woman’s scream was shrill; as piercing as any blade. “And now the whole world will know. It’s you who has to stop!”
Still Ruby was confused, her head hurt, darkness threatened to encroach again – one half of her wanted to welcome it, the other knew she mustn’t, she had to stay alert. As the woman raised the knife again, Ruby struggled to keep her mind focussed. The whole world will know? What was she talking about? What had she done that was so bad? Raising an arm to protect her head at least, she tried to connect psychically with the woman instead, to see if she could extract from her an ounce of mercy. But those eyes – she had to admit it – there was no mercy in them. They were black, so black – so easy to drown in, to sink all the way to the bottom of that well she’d languished in before. And this time no sunlight would penetrate, not where she was heading. As she tensed, the woman’s words raced through her mind again. You’ve brought him back. And now the whole world will know… the whole world… he’s back… he’s back.
“But he never went!” Ruby screamed the words as the knife hovered over her. It made sense suddenly. It all made sense. She was talking about Gilmore Street! The spirit that resided there, this woman knew him. She was who he feared – the woman that Ruby feared now too. She was at the root of it all. That frisson she’d felt earlier, that she’d mistaken for excitement, she’d known this moment was coming. It was nothing to do with Cash at all. Nothing…
“What the fuck?”
Had she heard right? Was that Cash’s voice? Or was she now the one guilty of wishful thinking? She must be. Even so, how she longed for him, for escape. She wasn’t ready to go, not yet… she couldn’t go, she wouldn’t.
“Ruby! Ruby! Get up. Are you okay? What a bloody stupid question, you’re not okay are you? What the hell’s going on here?”
It was Cash, and Jed too, the dog coming over to Ruby, nudging at her, whining, willing her to be all right.
I am, I’m all right. Just.
As if through a haze, she saw Cash turn to the woman, the murder that had been in her eyes reflected in his. As she had lunged at the woman earlier, now he did, and with one fell swoop knocked the knife from her hand and sent her careering, straight into one of Ruby’s precarious tower of books, to land heavily amongst them. Around her, Stephen King, James Herbert and Phil Rickman lay scattered.
Her head pounding but her heart soaring, Ruby struggled to her feet as Cash let fly a long list of threats in the woman’s direction, not least phoning the police and getting them to lock her up and throw away the key.
‘Cash, don’t, it’s okay. Help me.”
“Okay?” He swung back round to face her. “Ruby, she was going to stab you!” As that fact sank in, panic replaced fury as he grabbed her by the arm and began to scan her. “She hasn’t stabbed you has she? I can’t see any blood.”
“No, no, Cash, I’m—”
“I’ve got to phone an ambulance, I’ll do that first and then the police. Where’s my phone? Where is it? Shit! Did I leave it in the pub?”
“Cash!” She brought her free hand up to grab at him too. “The emergency services is all one number, and we’ve got a phone here remember? Look, I’m okay, I’ve banged my head on the floorboards but I’m all right. Hold up on the police. I want to speak to her first. This is to do with Gilmore Street.”
The words were not delivered quite as coherently as she would have liked, they came out in a rush, but Cash got the gist of what she was saying. He directed her to her captain’s chair and ordered her to sit down on it. To the woman he growled a command to stay put. Ruby braved looking over at her. She seemed as dazed as Ruby had felt earlier. She was going nowhere.
Before she started firing questions, Ruby looked at Cash – at the miracle of him standing before her.
“How did you know?” she breathed.
“About you? Because of Jed.”
Satisfied that she was okay, the dog was now sitting in front of the enemy – standing guard. As his words sunk in, she frowned.
“But you can’t see Jed, so how…?”
“I can sm
ell him though, remember? He was pulling that whole ‘wet dog’ stunt again. The smell was becoming more and more intense, unbearable even. I kept looking around me, thinking someone had brought a dog in with them and then I realised two things – first, it wasn’t a ‘live’ dog responsible and second, it wasn’t raining outside. It was Jed. You were late. Something was wrong. So I got up and rushed here. To find this.”
Even though it hurt to do so, she shook her head in amazement. Yet again Jed had come to her aid. Cash too – what would she do without them? Die probably. Certainly, that’s what she thought was going to happen. She was going to die. And she wasn’t ready, she remembered thinking that: she couldn’t go, she wouldn’t. She’d stay…
The memory forced the air from her body.
“Ruby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
“Cash, it’s fine, it’s…” Would she have done it? Remained here? Stayed grounded? No of course not, there was no way… was there?
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Cash said when he got no further reply.
“No! Don’t. I said I want to talk to her.”
“Two minutes, Ruby, that’s all you’ve got.”
“That’s all I need.”
Ruby stared again into the eyes of her attacker. “Remove your scarf,” she commanded, “I want to have a good look at you.”
She thought the woman was going to refuse but boldly a hand shot up and, taking hold of the scarf, tore at it. Ruby gasped, as did Cash.
44 Gilmore Street Page 23
