by Nell Dixon
Lou’s face clouded. “I’m not sure, I suppose after the weekend. I was trying to get to know Jamie a bit better first before I said anything and Gary will be convinced it’s his.”
I leaned across and gave her a hug. Whenever she told them it wasn’t going to be easy. Neither of them would be pleased when they knew there was another possible father in the frame. Still at least she’d realised that she did have to say something to them about her pregnancy.
I saw Lou safely inside the entrance of her block of flats then headed back to Myrtle Cottage. Steve’s caravan was in darkness as I pulled into my parking space and I wondered if the gig had finished and where he might be. I tried not to think about who he might be with.
I’d left the kitchen lights on in the cottage so that I wouldn’t be returning to a dark house. The garden path was much easier to negotiate since I’d cut back the brambles and the weeds. I let myself in through the back door and smelled the by now familiar scent of lavender. Mr Flibble was absent, presumably on mouse patrol in the outhouse and the cottage was quiet.
* * *
Father is not speaking to me. I feel the weight of his sorrow and anger whenever he looks in my direction. I pray every night for Joshua, that he might come to no harm and return quickly. Although I have not told Father that Joshua is the father of my baby I suspect that he has guessed the truth. I hope that Joshua is safe and that this wretched conflict will soon be at an end. Mayhap father would be happy if we were wed - if he did not keep his pledge to run my lover through with a sword first.
* * *
Outside an owl hooted and sounded so close I startled. I opened the door to the hall to turn on the lights. My hand paused over the switch. Ahead of me in the long corridor I saw two tiny globes of light winking and floating in the darkness.
My mouth dried and the hairs on my arms stood to attention as I watched them bob and dance in mid air. Then, as quickly as they had appeared they vanished leaving the hall in complete darkness once more. I snapped on the light, banishing any darkness from the space, and then ran around the house turning on all the lights.
Finally I returned to the kitchen and sank down onto one of the pine chairs, my legs shaking. With the cottage ablaze with light so no more freaky floating lights could come and get me I began to feel better. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough for me. I’d had enough of this.
I wished Mr Flibble were with me. At least with my cat there was another living, breathing live body in the house. Being alone like this in the cottage was too scary. I’d never been able to watch horror films and being trapped in the middle of my own personal version wasn’t exactly soothing for my nerves.
I stayed in the kitchen for a while listening for any more of the strange footsteps or sounds of sobbing or singing that I thought I’d heard before. The lavender scent seemed to fade while I sat there and the only noise was the sound of the owl outside in the garden still calling for its mate.
Eventually I grew brave enough to leave the kitchen and go around the house turning off the various lights. Finally there was just the landing light, the bathroom and my bedroom light left on. I washed quickly in the half-finished bathroom and changed into my nightshirt.
As I made my way back to my bedroom I half-wondered if I’d imagined the lights in the hall. Maybe they had merely been moths fluttering in the darkness. Even as I tried to rationalise what I’d seen I knew the twin lights hadn’t been insects. I switched off the landing light and closed my bedroom door behind me. The sooner I went to sleep the better. In the daylight no doubt all of this would seem like a bad dream.
Once in bed, I lay and watched the pattern made by the moonlight shining through the leaded panes of my window. I couldn’t bring myself to close the curtain, needing to keep some light within the room. I had just started to fall asleep when I heard a noise downstairs in the kitchen.
Instantly awake I sat up straining to work out what exactly I’d heard. My heart hammered against my chest and I looked around my room for a possible weapon. The only thing to hand was one of my canvas espadrille sandals which had a chunky wedge heel. I grabbed it and crept to my bedroom door, avoiding the squeaky floorboard.
There was definitely someone moving around downstairs in the kitchen. I peered across at my window, bending my head to try and see if there was any sign of life in Steve’s caravan. I cursed myself for leaving my mobile downstairs. In my preoccupation with the mystery lights I’d left my bag on the kitchen table.
Gripping my sandal tighter in my sweaty palm I made my way slowly down the stairs hoping my mystery intruder would simply turn out to be Mr Flibble upsetting his dish on the tiled floor.
Cautiously I pushed the kitchen door open a crack and peered in. The silvery light of the moon threw shadows across the sparse furnishings. The scent of lavender was back and in the far corner by the Aga a column of mist, fine and shimmery with silver, rose into the air.
* * *
I sense the spirit woman carries the same burden of despair that weighs so heavily on my own shoulders. Sometimes as I go about my household duties I sense her near me. I long to be able to speak to her, to find out what grieves her so and why she is here in my home.
* * *
I banged the door back shut and ran back up the stairs to barricade myself in my room. I turned on my lamp and dived under my duvet. There was no way I was prepared to go back downstairs until morning.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’d lain awake for a long time straining to hear any unearthly sounds from anywhere in the house. Eventually I had fallen asleep around three in the morning and consequently slept right through my alarm.
It was only the sound of Steve clumping around outside on the scaffolding that finally woke me. I lay still for a moment trying to work out why my room was so bright and why I could hear the birds so clearly. Then a quick glance at my watch told me I should have been at work almost thirty minutes earlier.
My mobile was still in the kitchen where I’d abandoned it in my panic. I stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen. Of course it looked perfectly normal. No spooky mist, no weird noises, no smell of lavender.
I found my phone and called in sick. There was no way I could cope with Nasreen and the bank today.
“I thought you had work today. Are you okay?” Steve ambled into the kitchen carrying his tool bucket.
“I had a rough night so I called in sick.”
He tilted his head to one side and peered at me. “You do look a bit ropey.”
“Gee, thanks.” I was pretty sure I looked as rubbishy as I felt.
“I was going to start work in the bathroom, do you want me to wait a while?”
“About thirty minutes would be good.” He didn’t look so great himself. Dark smudges lay under his eyes as if he hadn’t had that much sleep either. “Do you want a cup of tea?”
“No thanks.” I didn’t think my stomach would cope with it yet. I needed more time to come round.
Our conversation felt like hard work. I started to pull the washing from the machine to peg out later conscious of Steve watching me from across the kitchen table.
“You look tired this morning too, Nas said you had a gig.” It was out, I’d said it. I pretended to be interested in untangling my jeans from my tee shirts.
“Not really. I helped someone out, that’s all.”
He didn’t look at me as he tossed the bag of pegs into the basket.
“I wondered if you were thinking of going back into the music biz.” What was wrong with me this morning? It must be the bad night and lack of caffeine that was making me blurt out all this stuff.
“No, I’m not. It was a favour for a friend, that’s all.” Steve’s dark brown eyes locked with mine and I wished I could read his thoughts.
“I’ll go and get changed. I’ll be out of the bathroom in fifteen mins.” I left the washing on the table and scuttled off upstairs cursing my cowardice for not asking him if Chloe had been the friend in question.
&
nbsp; I quickly washed and dressed before returning downstairs to hang out the clothes on the line in the orchard at the side of the house. The air was already warm and from the lack of clouds it appeared as if it was set for a nice summer day. The peaceful normality of the garden made the contrast even greater between the sunny morning and the mystery mist of the night before.
I finished pegging out the washing and rounded the corner of the house near the walnut tree. Steve, his mobile pressed to his ear, was pacing up and down across the stone flags. He paused with his back towards me, oblivious to my presence. I hesitated, not wanting to intrude in case it was a private call.
“I don’t know what else to do, it never seems to be the right time or I can’t find the right words.”
The scrap of his conversation floated towards me. I turned ready to step away not wanting to hear anymore in case he was talking to her.
“You know what Kate is like.”
The mention of my name stopped me in my tracks even though I knew that eavesdroppers never heard anything good about themselves. Who he was talking to and why he was discussing me?
“Okay, after this wacky séance thing here on Saturday night is over with. I’ll try and talk to her then, I promise.”
He moved further away and I didn’t catch any more of the conversation. I hurried round the corner out of sight, my face burning with embarrassment.
Presumably the wacky séance thing I’d heard him mention was Brian and Beaner’s paranormal investigation at the cottage. Whatever Steve planned to talk to me about, it sounded as if he were bracing himself to say something which he didn’t think I would want to hear.
Steve has always said I’m an ostrich. I never want to hear bad news of any kind, so I’d rather stick my head in the sand and ignore it. I suppose that’s why I hadn’t realised my relationship with him had run into trouble.
I leaned against the side of the cottage, a tight hard lump settling like a lead weight inside my chest. I still loved Steve. My breath whooshed out of me as the implications of what that meant sank in. Ever since he’d moved out of the cottage and into the caravan I’d missed him. I’d kidded myself that it was for the best and that I could move on. Instead I realised that what I most wanted was for him to move back.
Since he’d moved to live in the caravan it was dawning on me more and more that this was it. We were over and there was no way back.
I don’t know how long I stayed there, the warm morning sunshine drying the tears that trickled slowly down my face rolling off my cheeks onto my tee shirt.
Eventually the sound of Steve singing while he worked in the bathroom bought me to my senses and I realised I needed to get away.
Within a few minutes I’d collected my handbag and car keys and was on my way out of town. I hadn’t given any thought as to where I intended to go. I’d simply jumped in the car and set off, as if on automatic pilot. It wasn’t until I found myself at a familiar looking crossroads that I realised I’d taken the road that led past the barn conversion. My barn conversion, the one that was supposed to have been mine and Steve’s forever house.
I pulled into a lay-by overlooking the field where the barn stood and gazed out across the emerald grass. A child’s red swing now stood in the garden and I could see where the new owners had planted a row of saplings presumably to give privacy as they grew and to stop nosey parkers like me from gawping into their garden. Washing hung from a rotary line, drying in the sunshine and all around me I could hear birdsong and the occasional, distant moo of a cow.
While I watched, a woman stepped out of the back door with a washing basket under her arm. She dropped it down on the grass and began to take down her dry clothes from the line. A surge of resentment rolled through me, burning me with white hot anger. She was living my life, in my house. Even though I knew I was being irrational and unreasonable, I couldn’t stop how I felt.
The buzz of my mobile sounded from the depth of my handbag. I took one last glance at the barn and retrieved my phone to take the call.
“Hello Kate, I’m sorry to disturb you while you’re at work, but I’m getting rather worried about Chuck.” Mum’s voice sounded wobbly as if she were trying not to cry.
“It’s okay, I’m off today. What’s happened?” All sorts of things flashed through my mind. The business with the house, the cheque Mum had given him, and his mysterious trip to London.
“I think something may have happened to him.” Mum’s voice broke on a sob.
“What, you mean he’s ill or had an accident? Where is he?” I was confused.
“Oh Kate, I don’t know. I had this strange phone call from him last night and then this morning his mobile is dead and I don’t know where he is or if he’s all right.”
I could barely make out what she was saying through the tears.
“Listen, don’t worry. I’ll be with you in about ten minutes. We can work out what to do then.” I ended the call and turned my car around.
It was a miracle that I made to Mum’s without collecting a speeding ticket. All the way there my imagination worked overtime trying to figure out what had happened to Chuck. Had he done a runner?
Mum was on the doorstep waiting for me as I pulled up. Her face was pink and blotchy with tears.
“Oh Mum.” I gave her a hug and we went inside. For once there was no music playing as she sat down beside me on the sofa.
“Tell me what’s happened.”
Her hands trembled as she picked at a crumpled and soggy tissue. “I told you Chuck had to go to London. He had to visit the embassy to sort out something about a visa and then he planned to meet one of his old business partners and sort his banking out.” She paused to blow her nose.
“And?” I waited for her to continue with her story.
“I called him last night on his mobile. He’d planned to be home today but he said something had cropped up and he needed to go back to the bank again. He sounded so strange, as if he couldn’t wait for me to get off the line, not at all like my Chuck. I called him this morning and his phone kept going through to voice mail and now it’s completely dead.”
“Do you know where he was staying? Perhaps it’s simply some problem with the mobile?”
“Yes, I called the hotel where he’d said he was staying and they said they hadn’t any guest with that name. That’s why I think something must have happened.”
She clutched at my hand.
“Mum, I’m sure Chuck is fine. Perhaps he’ll call you when he gets his phone sorted. Maybe you mistook the name of the hotel or there may be more than one hotel with that name.” I didn’t know what else to say to her. I didn’t want her to panic and maybe, just maybe I might be wrong.
My head whirled with all the possibilities. If Chuck was a con man and he’d vanished with the money Mum had given him then we would have to try to get the bank to stop the cheque and call the police to find out what our options were.
“You could be right.” Mum’s expression brightened. “Or maybe the desk clerk was mistaken. I’m probably being silly. He could be on his way back here right now.
It’s a good thing you’re such a sensible girl, Kate.”
I managed a weak smile. I knew if I was to get information from her that it was important that she didn’t panic.
“By the way did Chuck give you the receipt for the deposit on the house before he left?” I tried to sound casual.
Mum looked puzzled. “No, dear, I think with Lou’s scan and everything we forgot about it. Why?”
“Oh, no reason, it’s just that the house you liked seemed so nice I searched on the net to see if they had any interesting properties that Steve and I could look at as our next project. I saw a couple and rang the agents. We got chatting about your house. The agent seemed to think it was still for sale and I wondered if there had been a mix up with the deposit.” I had my fingers crossed behind my back.
She gave me one of the piercing looks she’d always used when Lou and I were small and had been up to n
o good. “I knew it. I told Chuck that you wouldn’t be able to resist checking the agents and the house out.”
I wondered if that was when he’d decided he needed to leave town on urgent business.
“Oh, what did he say?”
“Well, you know what men are like. He was a bit grumpy at first but then as I told him with you being in the property business he should have expected it.”
“Who did you make the cheque out to for the house deposit? Was it a bank or something?”
She rolled her eyes as if I were being particularly trying. It didn’t appear to have hit her yet that Chuck might have taken her money and run.
“I made one cheque out to Chuck so he could pay it into his account when it got sorted out. That would reimburse him for my portion of the deposit. I drew the rest out in cash lump sums and gave him that as my share while we were away. It was so difficult you see with Chuck’s money being tied up in America.”
My stomach rolled and I began to feel sick. “How much money exactly have you given Chuck?”
She stared at me for a moment as the full impact of all my questions began to sink in.
“Oh God…” She let out a moan and bent forward to rest her forehead on her knees, her hands placed on her temples.
“Mum.” I leaned over to try to take hold of her hands, alarmed by her reaction.
I barely registered the shrill buzz of the doorbell.
“Oh, Kate, I’ve been so stupid, haven’t I?”
The doorbell sounded again as I tried to comfort her. I tried to ignore it as I pressed a tissue into her trembling hand.
“Get the door, Kate. It might be someone important.”
I wasn’t sure who someone important might be. It was something Mum had always said when Lou and I were living at home, ‘get the phone, it might be someone important. Get the door it might be someone important.’ We’d often teased that she’d probably faint if we ever answered and someone important had been stood there, like the Queen or Donny Osmond.
