by Nell Dixon
“Here we go.” Lou stepped back out bearing a white carrier bag full of takeaway cartons, a couple of forks and a bottle of cola. She plonked the lot down on the table in front of me. “Everything is fine, there’s nothing in there, honestly.”
She took a seat and cracked open the cartons. The aroma of egg fried rice and crispy Bombay duck reached me. “Here, grab a fork and dig in.”
Shakily I did as I was told. “What am I going to do about tonight? I can’t stay there on my own, I just can’t.” I bit down on my lower lip to keep it from trembling.
“You could come to mine, or you’ve got Mum’s spare key, so you could stay there.” Lou munched away on her noodles. “I think it’s a little bit like getting back on a horse once you’ve fallen off, though. If you stay away then you’ll build this up bigger in your mind.”
I stared at her, convinced that being pregnant had addled her brain. “Lou, I can’t stay here on my own.”
“I’ll stay with you then, just for tonight. I’m not scared of a mug throwing phantom.” She put down the noodles and picked up the cola bottle.
Relief flooded through me before uncertainty took hold. “Are you sure?”
I wasn’t sure. I was scared about staying in the cottage and worried in case anything happened that might hurt Lou.
“Course.” She took a swig of pop from the bottle. “When we’ve eaten we’ll go inside together and you can show me what happened. I bet we’ll have a laugh over this tomorrow.”
I wasn’t so sure but sitting outside in the quiet peace of the garden, eating Chinese food and chatting with Lou did begin to make what had happened in the lounge seem rather silly.
After we’d munched our way through the food and opened the fortune cookies she jumped to her feet and began to clear away the debris.
“Come on then. Let’s go and see if your ghosty is still playing.”
She marched off into the house. I followed, a little more cautiously, in her wake. Lou dumped the rubbish in the bin.
“Ready?” She waited for me at the door leading into the hall.
I swallowed hard and nodded an assent. My hands were clammy with sweat and my chest tightened with panic. I followed her into the hall and then into the lounge.
The fragments of Steve’s mug still lay on the floor where it had fallen, with only a faint stain on the floorboard. The room was exactly as I’d left it. I’m not sure what I expected to see. Ectoplasm dripping from the light fitting maybe? I don’t know.
“Show me what happened,” Lou commanded.
I explained about the catch and showed her what I meant. Keeping my voice low I repeated what I said before the mug fell onto the floor.
“Hmm, the door might not have latched properly. You could have heard it bang against the frame and thought it had shut. Then, if there was a sudden bit of breeze it would make you feel cold and blow the door open.”
“Then explain the mug falling as well, Miss Marple.” I felt rather silly listening to Lou’s rational take on my paranormal experience.
“It was probably on the edge of the board and it might have toppled over with the draught. It does look wobbly.” Lou shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, I still think it was freaky and it scared the wits out of me.” I folded my arms and vowed to spend as little time as possible in that room.
“Look if it bothers you so much then why don’t you ring that bloke? The one who does the paranormal investigations.”
“Brian the bin man?” I looked at my sister.
“What have you got to lose?”
Chapter Nineteen
We didn’t linger for long in the lounge. Instead we went upstairs so Lou could inspect my partially plumbed bathroom and I could make up Steve’s old bed with fresh linen for her.
“How did you say you were going to get the bath in here?” Lou called while I wrestled the spare quilt inside a cover.
“Steve’s taking the window out, hoicking the bath up the scaffold then putting the window back.”
She appeared in the doorway of the spare room, a frown on her face. “Are you allowed to do things like that?”
I gave the quilt a final shake. “Sometimes, but you’re supposed to discuss it all first and of course Steve being Steve...”.
“Then, can’t you get into trouble?”
I shook the quilt into position on the bed and straightened the pillowcase. “I don’t know. I think Steve’s working on the principle that what the council doesn’t know won’t hurt them. That’s why we’re doing this over the weekend. Apparently Mr Poole, the bloke from planning kicked up a fuss over Steve opening up the fireplace and we had to fill in endless bits of paper about patching the plasterwork.”
“Hmm.”
If we managed to get the window out intact and put it back without any damage then everything probably would be fine. Quite how we were supposed to do that with only me and Steve as the labourers was another matter. I had to admit I hadn’t exactly pressed him on the details.
“Okay, your bed's done.” It was still light outside and there was no way I wanted to sit downstairs in the lounge, not even if Lou was with me. “Let’s go out for a drink,”
“We could go to Benny’s. You can help me look for the sperm donor.”
Although Lou made it sound like a joke there was a vulnerable look in her eyes. She had put herself out for me by agreeing to sleep in my creepy cottage. The least I could do was to help her track down her mystery lover.
“Okay, let me get changed and put some lippy on.” I swapped my crumpled bank uniform for a cool pastel pink summer dress and grabbed my handbag before I could change my mind.
The sun was sinking lower as we parked up near Benny’s bar. The sky had changed into a clear, translucent paleness while streaks of fiery umber accompanied by splashes of gold filled the horizon beyond the town landscape.
“It should be a nice day tomorrow. At least it won’t be piddling down when you’re shifting that bath,” Lou observed as we strolled along the pavement.
The doors and windows of the bar were open and groups of people had spilled out front. The sleek aluminium outdoor tables and chairs were all taken so we headed inside.
The bar was busy: the combination of warm weather and Friday night appeared to have drawn half the town out for a drink. At least there was air conditioning so it didn’t feel sticky.
“I forgot. It’s karaoke night tonight.” Lou waved a ten pound note in the air to attract the bartender’s attention.
I supposed that would explain the crowd. Lou snagged us a couple of drinks.
A glass of chilled white wine for me and a soft drink for herself.
“What does he look like, this bloke?” I couldn’t remember if Lou had ever given me any kind of description.
“Tall, I think, and blond, a bit muscled, you know fit. He smelt nice, good aftershave and um…” She sighed. “That’s about it.”
I looked around at the groups of people and decided it might be a little like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There were plenty of men who might fit that description.
“Quick, there are some seats empty over there!” Lou grabbed my hand and tugged me towards a couple of recently vacated chairs.
All around us the buzz of chatter was punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of glassware on the metal table tops. We’d barely sat down when an electronic screech cut across the noise and the first track on the karaoke started, drowning everything out with someone’s tuneless rendition of a Westlife song. For a brief moment even my freaky lounge seemed an attractive alternative to a night out at Benny’s.
The Westlife murderer was followed by three slightly drunk girls attempting Girls Aloud. I wished I wasn’t driving. If we had to listen to many more like the first two I’d need something stronger than one small glass of the house chardonnay.
I leaned forward to suggest to Lou that we could try to see if we could find a seat outside when the crowd in front of us parted, affording a gli
mpse of the karaoke stage.
“Kate! That’s him!” Lou clutched my arm in a vice-like grip.
“Who? Where?” I tried to look but the crowd moved again cutting off our view.
“He was on the karaoke stage! Maybe he’s up next?” She jumped to her feet and stood on tiptoes in an attempt to see over the shoulder of a large man who stood in front of her.
I stood up and craned my neck to try and see who was on the tiny stage at the rear of the bar. Whoever he was had his back to us for a moment apparently making some kind of adjustment to the microphone stand.
I glanced across at Lou’s pale face.
“Next up, a special treat for all you former fans of Danger Line, it's Jamie Green!”
Lou and I stared at one another as the announcer’s words died away and Jamie began to sing the track that had propelled Steve’s band to the number one slot ten years ago.
“Bloody Hell! No wonder he looked familiar,” Lou said.
Lost for words I continued to look at the stage. The man who’d been half-naked in my kitchen only the other morning was now giving his all to the audience in Benny’s bar.
Louise began to move. She squeezed through a gap and before I could stop her she started working her way through the throngs of people towards the front of the stage. I had no idea what she planned to do. It was all very well thinking Jamie might be the father but it could still be Gary’s baby. Surely she wasn’t going to confront Jamie in front of the karaoke crowd?
I tried to follow her but the gaps she’d squeezed through had closed up. I was a shade wider and an inch or so taller than Lou so people weren’t so keen to let me through. Jamie reached the end of the song just before I finally managed to push my way to the front. I burst in between the last couple of people only to discover both Jamie and Lou had vanished! Instead a short dark haired girl in a red dress revved up ready to sing a Tina Turner number.
With annoyed glares spearing me like knives I worked my way back through the crowd. I looked for my sister’s emerald green top amongst the groups of people near the bar but couldn’t see any sign of her or Jamie. My chardonnay had grown warm where I’d been nursing the glass. I took a sip and considered my options.
Namely, sending her a text or going outside to see if she was out front.
After a last look around the bar I finished my drink and walked outside where the air was cooler. There were fewer people around but no sign of Lou either. I found a place to sit on a low piece of wall and settled down to wait for her.
After about ten minutes of people giving me pitying looks of the 'she-must-have-been-stood-up' variety, I decided I’d better text her. I’d just pressed send when I spotted her walking slowly back down the street towards me.
It was hard to tell from a distance how her meeting with Jamie had gone. I jumped to my feet and hurried to meet her, trying to read her body language.
“What happened? Where did you go?” I was out of breath by the time I caught up. To my relief she looked quite composed apart from a suspicious absence of lip gloss.
“We went out through a back door behind the stage. He saw me at the front of the crowd.”
That explained why I hadn’t been able to find her inside the bar. “And what happened? Did you tell him about the baby?”
Lou shook her head and grimaced. “Kate, I could hardly meet a bloke I’ve only met once before and say ‘I’m pregnant and I think it might be your baby’.”
“Okay, I can see that, but what did you say?” She had a point.
“We only chatted.” She blushed at this statement. “Actually, he’s coming to your house in the morning. Steve’s recruited him as labour to help with the bath.” She slipped her arm through mine and we turned to walk towards the street where I’d left my car.
“Does he know you’re my sister?” I was dying of curiosity to know what else had gone on in their meeting. From Lou’s heightened colour they might have done more than chat.
Lou nodded. “Actually if he’s going to be around tomorrow can I stop by my flat on the way back to yours? To pick up a change of clothes.”
“Okay, I take this means you still quite like him then? What if Steve tells him you’re pregnant?”
She stopped walking. “Oh crap, I hadn’t thought about that.” A crease appeared across her brow. “We’ll have to grab Steve to warn him before Jamie gets there.”
Great, I didn’t get much of a lie-in on Saturdays but that extra half an hour was something I looked forward to all week. Now I’d have to be up early to break the news to Steve that his ex-bandmate was potentially the father of Lou’s baby. He’d been ready to chase down Gormless Gary, hadn't he? How would he react to this latest revelation?
“Where’s Jamie gone to now? He isn’t staying with Steve in the caravan again tonight is he?” We halted at the side of my car.
Lou shrugged and strolled around the bonnet to the passenger door. “Dunno.
He was on his way to watch a new band somewhere nearby but he’d promised the bloke that owns Benny’s that he’d go in and do a track first.” She chewed the corner of her lip and I knew she was busy thinking her options through.
I unlocked the car and we both climbed inside. We were both busy with our own thoughts all the way across town to Lou’s place. I waited in the car while she ran inside to pack an overnight bag.
She arrived back at the car clutching a small hold-all and slid back into the passenger seat panting slightly. “I’ve sent Steve a text.”
I don’t why I hadn’t thought of that, except I suppose I wasn’t sure how I’d have worded it.
“Fingers crossed then.” It sounded as if Lou was still keen on this Jamie. I’d have to try and find out more about him from Steve. Danger Line was a part of his life that Steve didn’t talk much about. It was as if he’d left that world behind him and he didn’t want to go back there. He was still on good terms with the group members but they didn’t cross our paths very often. I guess I was a little surprised that Steve wanted Jamie to hang around.
Steve still loved music. He enjoyed playing his guitar and listening to new bands on the radio but he rarely talked about his past. I knew from things he’d said that he’d grown tired of touring, living out of a suitcase and of the shallowness of the industry. He’d lost a few good friends to drink and drugs before he’d made the decision to quit.
We pulled to a halt next to Steve’s caravan. It, like the cottage, was in darkness. A shiver ran down my spine as I clambered out of the car to walk down the narrow path through the undergrowth to the back door. Going out to Benny’s with Lou and all the excitement over her problems had distracted me from the events at Myrtle Cottage. But now we were back, and it was dark. I had to face whatever was inside the house.
Chapter Twenty
The night air was heavy with the scent of lavender as we filed silently along the path leading to the back door. Everywhere was still and quiet, even the walnut tree made no sound, the usual gentle rustling of its leaves halted. Light from the almost full moon illuminated the keyhole as I unlocked the backdoor with the old-fashioned iron key we’d acquired along with the house.
“Hurry up Kate, I’m dying for a pee.” Lou nudged me as I fumbled for the light switch.
My sister’s down-to-earth plea helped calm my nerves. Even so, I couldn’t help giving a small sigh of relief when the kitchen light came on and everything looked exactly as we had left it. Lou dumped her bag down on the table and disappeared into the hall, calling, “Put the kettle on, I want a cup of tea before I go to bed.”
I heard her thump her way up the stairs.
I’d just finished making the tea when she arrived back in the kitchen.
“Oh, that feels better. I swear my bladder has shrunk since I got pregnant.
Thanks for making the tea, shall we go in the lounge to drink it?”
My expression must have betrayed my fear. I’d disliked it even before Steve had exposed the fireplace and found the spirit trap. Now after the
creepy stuff with the door and the shattered mug I definitely didn’t want to go in there.
Lou placed her hands on her hips and fixed me with a determined gaze. “You have to get over this, Kate. We’re going to go in, sit down, drink our tea and then go to bed. The more you use the room the more normal it’ll feel and you’ll wonder why you ever thought it was spooky.”
Reluctantly I grabbed the biscuit tin and followed Lou into the hall then on through the low wooden door into the lounge. Even with the lights on the room still seemed dark, probably because of the heavy oak beams which crossed the ceiling and supported the walls. Moonlight filtered through the tiny leaded windows to cast eerie shadows on the bare floorboards in the parts where the naked light bulbs failed to throw enough light.
“I can imagine this room at Christmas, big log fire, stockings on the chimney breast, holly and mistletoe on the beams and a huge tree over there in the corner. If ever a room was made for Christmas, this is the one.” Lou settled down onto one of the transplanted pine kitchen chairs cradling her mug of tea between her hands.
I offered her a chocolate Hobnob and wished I was safely upstairs in bed. I tried to see the room through my sister’s eyes, all pretty and Christmas card-like, and failed. It still looked dark and horrible, not bright, open and spacious like my barn conversion would have been. I often wondered who had bought my beloved barn. Did they have a family? Were they happy there? Was it their forever home?
I nibbled the corner of a Garibaldi and tried to visualise the lounge once it was finished and dressed ready for market. This was my field and I prided myself that I was good at it. After all what girl doesn’t like shopping for pretty home accessories?
It was rather like playing doll houses but on a bigger scale. “Maybe it’ll look better when the walls are painted,” I suggested.
