“We’re never going to get out of here, are we?” Vicky said, her reddened eyes looking at me. I wanted to reassure her, but could think of nothing to say.
The tremors under our feet had grown much stronger. The carpet lifted and fell. Beneath it, the floorboards creaked. Sounds of splintering all around us.
Diana gave a cry. “What’s happening?”
I had no more idea than she had. We clung together, tears flowing freely, as slowly the walls closed in and we sank down into darkness.
Chapter Six
2019
The invitation came on white card, and because its arrival was so unexpected, I read it three times before I believed my eyes.
Dear Alice. I hope you are well. It’s been so many years since we all lived together at 4 Yarborough Drive and I thought it was high time we met up there for a reunion. I’m sure lots has happened to you this past 47 years and it will be great to catch up. I thought Saturday July 20th at around 3p.m would be a good time. Incidentally, did you know they’re demolishing all the houses on that side of the road? The bulldozers move in on Monday 22nd. They’re building some new houses apparently. Hope you can make it on Saturday. Love, Suzie.
When I had recovered, I made a cup of coffee and re-read the card a few more times. A hundred questions flooded my mind. What had happened to Suzie all those years ago? How had she found me? Had she traced the others? I’d lost touch with Vicky and Diana years earlier. I couldn’t even remember when. In fact, so much of that time remained a complete blur. I searched my brain for answers and none came.
How could I not go on Saturday?
Eventually, I stood up from the chair I had sat in for a shade too long. I straightened my stiff back and wandered across to the over-filled bookcase. I rummaged among the paperbacks, most of which had been there for as long as I could remember. Some I still hadn’t read. Jackie Collins, James Herbert, Victoria Holt… And I couldn’t remember a word of any of them. Old age creeping up on me, I suppose.
My fingers touched a slim volume of poetry. Strange because I couldn’t remember seeing it since I left Yarborough Drive, where I could have sworn I left it. I pulled it out, dislodging a couple of Agatha Christie mysteries along the way. The book fell open and the all-too-familiar line of that poem I had first read all those years ago grabbed my attention:
When death’s darkest veil draws over you, then shall shadows weep.
For some reason now, it seemed to hold more meaning than ever. Although what that meaning was, I had no idea.
Time hadn’t been especially kind to Yarborough Drive. The pub still stood there and the houses on one side looked relatively well cared for, but on the side where I had lived, windows were broken, gates off their hinges, paint flaked and peeling, and window frames looked gray and rotten. A sign showing a smiling, youthful retired couple informed me that a new retirement complex of apartments and bungalows would be ready the following spring. As none of the existing properties had been demolished yet, I rather doubted it.
Some shattered slates littered the short path leading to the front door of number four and, judging by the quantity of them, the roof had to be leaking.
I tried the door handle. To my surprise, it turned and the door reluctantly opened, creaking badly as the warped wood scraped along the tiled floor. I took a tentative step inside. A familiar damp, fusty smell greeted me—the smell I associated with the cellar.
“Hello?” My voice echoed as it bounced off the bare walls. I listened. Nothing. I moved further inside, taking care to avoid tripping over broken bits of furniture which looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. Impossible to tell what had once been a chair or an occasional table, although some shattered timbers reminded me a little of Vicky’s wardrobe. I tried what had been her door. The last time I had seen it had surely been our last day in the house. It had lain on her floor… If only I could remember….
I turned the handle. Locked. Or jammed.
I moved along the hall, ignoring the next door. My first room in this house had been empty when I was last here. In the communal kitchen, doors hung off cookers, the large cupboard stood open, any remaining bottles long since pilfered. I smiled, remembering our trips down to the Yarby.
Inevitably, my gaze alighted on the cellar door. Shut. But locked? I tried to open it and got my answer. I couldn’t see the key anywhere. Probably as well.
A noise from the hall made me jump. A woman I gauged to be in her late sixties joined me in the kitchen.
“Alice Lorrimer, as I live and breathe, it is you.” She smiled and I saw past the gray hair.
“Diana!” We embraced. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been well. And happy. I’ve been happy. How about you?”
We stood back, still holding hands. “I can’t complain,” I said. “It’s so good to see you after all these years.”
“Too many years.” Diana raised her eyes skyward. “How did we manage to lose touch? I can’t even remember when.”
“Me neither. One of those things. You get busy with life. Other priorities take over. So, what did you make of Suzie’s invitation? I was gobsmacked.”
“Me, too. I don’t suppose you ever heard from her down the years either?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t even know how she got my address,” Diana said.
“Internet, I expect. She probably searched the electoral roll or something.”
“She did a thorough job of it then. I changed my name twice.”
“You married then?”
“Once widowed and once divorced. Happily single these days. How about you?”
“Only the one marriage and divorce,” I said. “Changed my name back, so I would have been easier for her to find.”
“I wonder if Vicky will make it.”
A voice rang out along the hall. “She will and she’s here.”
No mistaking that red hair, although I suspected that these days it had a little help. Vicky threw her arms around each of us in turn.
“Well this is a turn-up, isn’t it?” she said. “And the old place is looking a right dump. It’s half-demolished already.”
“Sad, really,” I said, looking around at the filthy kitchen where, in addition to the damp fustiness, a sour stench of dirty drains wrinkled my nostrils. “It doesn’t seem nearly so frightening now.”
We lapsed into a companionable silence. Like me, I imagined my two old friends were probably casting their minds back all those years.
“Did you ever work out what happened?” I asked.
Diana and Vicky both shook their heads.
“I put it out of my mind,” Vicky said. “I can’t remember the last time I ever thought about it. And now, when I try, there are gaps in my memory. Do you find that, too?”
I nodded, and Diana spoke, echoing my own thoughts. “It’s as if my brain has decided it’s not good for me to remember and has thrown away those particular memories. Or put them firmly under lock and key. Self-preservation.”
“I nearly didn’t come,” Vicky said. “I’m still not at all sure it’s a good idea to rake up the past like that, but in the end, I had to. I have to find out what happened to Suzie. Is she here?”
“Not as far as I can tell,” I said. “But I haven’t ventured upstairs yet. I’m not even sure it’s safe to do so.”
“I’m guessing neither of you have been down there yet,” Vicky pointed at the cellar door.
“No,” I said. “And I don’t intend to either. Besides, the key’s missing.”
The room darkened. We drew closer together, as if by instinct. A joint need for protection.
“What the hell?” I followed Vicky’s gaze to the window. Either the sky had suddenly grown blacker or something masked the glass. The words of that poem “The Darkest Veil” flashed into my mind.
“‘When death’s darkest veil draws over you, then shall shadows weep.’”
“What?” Only when Diana spoke did I realize I had uttered th
e words out loud.
“Oh, nothing. A daft poem by someone called Eliza Montague Jordan.”
“The name sounds familiar,” Vicky said.
“Look, it’s getting brighter. Must have been a black cloud. There wasn’t an eclipse due today, was there?”
“I don’t think so,” Vicky said. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. I’ve had enough of this room.”
Vicky led the way as we stepped over old newspapers, fallen plaster, peeled paint and torn wallpaper littering the stairs. On the first floor, the doors were mostly off their hinges. We carried on up to my old flat. It too had been wrecked, furniture smashed and overturned, the same old mattress—now with protruding rusty springs and unmentionable stains.
“Someone’s been dossing here,” Diana said as she kicked a couple of empty beer cans across the floor of her old room.
Something in the corner of the room caught my eye. I strolled over to it and bent down. “Hypodermic,” I said.
“Druggies.” Diana wrinkled her nose.
“I wish Suzie would get here.” Diana hugged herself. “This place is starting to get to me.”
“And me,” I replied, shivering.
“Well, aren’t you all a sight for sore eyes?”
We turned as one. Suzie stood in the doorway, a broad grin lighting up her face.
We rushed towards her and embraced in a group hug. When we finally separated, I said, “You look amazing. I swear you haven’t aged a day since I last saw you.” The same blonde, pixie bob, shining eyes, clear skin. She must have had some surgical help, of the very best kind.
Suzie laughed. “You all look great, too. I’ve missed you.”
“But, what happened to you?” Vicky spoke for us all.
Suzie tapped the side of her nose with her forefinger. “Tell you later. Right now, you need to come with me.”
We followed her back down the stairs and stopped outside Vicky’s room. I felt an unpleasant prickling along my arms.
Suzie produced a key and inserted it in the lock.
We all hung back. Half-remembered scenes from that long-ago day played through my mind like some sort of bizarre film trailer. The picture was incomplete, as if it had happened to someone else and I was trying to access their brain for the missing pieces. I guessed Vicky and Diana felt the same.
Suzie opened the door. “Come on then,” she said.
Diana, Vicky and I exchanged nervous glances. I wondered if they remembered more than me. The biggest shock came when we crossed out of the hall.
Vicky gazed around the room. “It’s the same.”
My last hazy memory of this room had been the scene of devastation it had become on that terrible day. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to restore it to precisely the same as it had looked when Vicky lived here—even down to matching the flowery wallpaper.
“It’s immaculate,” I said. “But how can it be in this condition when the rest of the house is falling down and about to be demolished anyway?”
Again Suzie made that nose-tapping gesture. It began to annoy me.
“All in good time. Let’s sit down and catch up, shall we?”
Why did I feel so strongly that she had so many more answers than the rest of us? Not only about herself, but about this house and everything that had happened in it?
I sat next to Diana on the settee. Vicky lowered herself into an armchair under the window. Suzie remained standing.
“I know you’ve all got loads of questions,” she said. “And I promise I will try and answer them all for you, but you need to bear with me. First I want you to tell me what you have all been getting up to. Diana, would you like to start?”
Diana blinked a couple of times. “I got married, divorced my first husband two years later, and married the next man that asked me. No children. I quit my job some years back and live in a small flat in Huddersfield.”
“What was your first husband like? What was his name?”
Strange questions, I thought, but we all knew Suzie could be unpredictable. Diana stared at her, as if she couldn’t remember the answers.
“Don…no…John. I haven’t thought about him in years. He was okay I suppose. Not a lot to say about him really.”
Suzie nodded and turned to me. I noticed Diana breathe a quick sigh of relief. Now, my turn under the spotlight.
“I’ve been married and divorced once and still live in the house we bought together. I worked for the bank until last year. Like Diana, I had no children.”
“And you’ve been happy? Got some great memories?”
“Yes.” Why wouldn’t I? Not that I could recall any specific examples at that moment. Age again.
Suzie smiled.
Vicky told a similar story to the rest of us, only in her case she did have a child. Sadly he died at a few days old. The rest of her life to date had been spent working in the civil service until, like me, she retired last year.
“Your turn, Suzie,” I said. “What happened to you all those years ago? Why did you leave? Where did you go?”
Suzie’s smile grated on me. She seemed so smug. Not at all like the old Suzie, even if she didn’t look as if she had aged a day.
“Oh my story’s quite simple,” she said. “I never left here.”
Chapter Seven
The silence seemed to last for hours, although in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before Diana gave voice to my thoughts as well as hers and, no doubt, Vicky’s.
“What do you mean, you never left here? You walked out one morning forty-seven years ago and none of us has seen or heard of you since. Until we received those invitations.”
Still that infuriating smile. “I have been here the whole time. You simply weren’t aware of me.”
Diana’s face reddened. “Suzie, that’s plain crazy. Do you think we’re all stupid? Come on, where have you been really?”
The smile vanished. “I’ve been here the entire time.”
“Oh yes?” Diana’s voice rose. “Where? In the walls? Under the floorboards? Down in the cellar? No, you couldn’t have been there because we came looking for you and all we found was your red dress.”
“I know,” Suzie said. “I saw you.”
“But you weren’t there. Oh someone else please take over, I’m getting nowhere.”
I decided to give it a go. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell us what happened, Suzie. Start from that morning when, as far as we were all concerned, you left.”
Suzie blinked a couple of times. “Very well. You all know there is something different about this house. The tapping at the window, the footsteps on the roof and then, most significantly for all of you, the experience you had in this room that day.”
“Yes, we’re aware of that,” Diana said.
Suzie shot her a quick glare. “I know Vicky did her homework and discovered the house had once belonged to Josiah Underwood and his coven.”
“So they were witches then?” I asked.
Suzie nodded. “They simply called themselves The Thirteen. An odd and fluid collection of artists, writers, tradesmen, widows and spinsters. Josiah and his wife were the only couple. As members left they were always replaced. Then war came and it became harder to maintain the thirteen as all the young men were being conscripted. Josiah had to find another way.”
“And another house presumably,” I said. I caught Vicky’s eye. “Didn’t you say the house was listed as uninhabited in 1917?”
“I think so,” she said. “Definitely around that time.”
“This house is never empty,” Suzie said. “There are people all around you, right now. Listening. Watching.”
I shuddered. Diana spun round. “There’s no one here but us,” she said, “Oh cut the bullshit, Suzie. Tell us the truth.”
“She is telling the truth,” I heard myself say, though how I could possibly know this I hadn’t a clue, except… “Can’t you feel it?” I rubbed my icy hands together. Something stroked my hair.
I jerked forward and Suzie laughed.
“Now do you believe me?” she said.
Diana gasped. “Something grabbed my arm.”
Vicky screamed. “Get off me! God, something’s leaning on my shoulder.” She grabbed hold of my arm. “Suzie, what the hell is going on here?”
“I’ll let you work that out for yourselves in due course,” she said and I wanted to shake her, to drag the information out of her in whatever way I could.
“Suzie,” Diana said. “This has gone far enough. Please stop whatever you’re doing to us right now and answer our questions honestly.”
We were treated to the smug smile as well as wide-eyed innocence this time. “I have not uttered one lie since you arrived. But, as you are all having so much trouble accepting what I am telling you, let’s delve a little deeper into your lives. Alice. Let’s start with you. Tell us everything you can remember about your life since that day in Vicky’s room.”
I searched my mind. “I told you. I got married, worked at the bank—”
“No, no. I don’t mean generalizations. Tell us what happened straight after that phenomenon frightened you all.”
I stared at her. I struggled to recall anything. I had been married—but, if so, who was he? Only a shadowy, faceless presence came into my mind, as if captured in a dream. I had worked for the bank all those years, but couldn’t fathom why on earth I would have stayed there, knowing how much I had grown to hate it. As for my last role there, nothing surfaced. It seemed lost in fog, along with the rest of my life. I struggled to recall my mother and father. I could only remember them as they would have been in 1972. What had become of them? My mind drew a complete blank. “I don’t remember,” I said. “I seem to have blocked it out. The last thing I can recall from that day is this big hole opening in the floor.”
“And the next thing you remember?”
Again my mind performed a fruitless search. “It’s all a bit hazy. I went on with my life I suppose.”
“And you three never got that house together?”
“How did you find out about that?” Diana asked.
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