Isobel

by Sheila Tibbs

  He looked back towards Isobel; her pretty face was still smiling up at him. Had he imagined it? Mrs. Goodwin looked at her husband.

  “Are you all right, Jacob? You’ve gone deathly white, love. Sit down and I’ll fetch you a glass of water.”

  She motioned to him to sit down, then ran to the sink and filled a glass with water before handing it to him.

  David and Sarah stood momentarily; staring at the elderly man before David quickly took the meat cleaver from his shaking hands. Mrs. Goodwin was still smiling.

  “Now, don’t you go worrying about Jacob now. Doctor said he has to take things easy. Has these funny turns you know every now and then. It’s our age, love. Not getting any younger we’re not but he’ll be fine in a moment. Now, let’s get you your chops, ... these three do you will they?”

  She held up three large pork chops for Sarah’s inspection. Sarah just nodded, unable to take her eyes away from Mr. Goodwin. She was worried about him. Looking up at Mrs. Goodwin when prompted by the package, Sarah smiled and paid.

  After saying their goodbyes, they left.

  Mrs. Goodwin, turned to her husband, the smile now replaced by concern.

  “Jacob, are you okay, love? What happened? I’ve never seen you look so frightened in all my born days,” she said, holding his hand. He looked up at her, the fright still evident in his eyes.

  “That girl,” he whispered. “There’s trouble a brewing, Gloria, mark my words, she’s pure evil. Didn’t you see it? Didn’t you feel it?”

  “Now, don’t be daft you old fool! She’s just a wee nipper, nothing more and nothing less. You should go and see Marcus, love, have your bloody eyes tested! Your seeing and imagining things now. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Jacob

  Goodwin, do you hear? Ever!” she hissed.

  'Silly old bugger! If I had a pound for every time he said someone was evil, or trouble, I’d be a millionaire by now,' she thought.

  Outside, Sarah turned to David and said, “I didn’t know Jacob was unwell darling, did you?”

  “No, strange that, think we would have heard something. His face blanched though didn’t it, and did you see him shake?

  My God, I thought he was going to cut himself he was shaking so much.”

  •

  That night, Jacob Goodwin was woken by the sound of music coming from his shop below. He glanced at his wife sleeping heavily beside him, her large bosom resting on the top of the cover and heaving upwards with every breath. He smiled to himself as he climbed out of bed because nothing would wake her, not even an earthquake.

  As he started to descend the stairs to the shop, he could hear the music getting louder. An old nursery rhyme played up to greet him. His mind started to sing along with the music, his mouth miming the words as he went.

  Girls and boys come out to play.

  The moon is shining bright as day.

  Leave your supper and leave your sleep.

  And join your playfellows into the street.

  As he reached for the light to the shop front, the music stopped.

  'Bloody kids!' he thought, 'Always playing the fools and pulling some stunt or another out of their sodding hats. Kids these days have no respect for their elders, not like in my time. I’ll give ‘em all a good hiding!'

  The shop lights flickered on. He froze, the scream in his throat restricted.

  Standing in front of him was Isobel, only not Isobel. Not the pretty little girl his wife had seen earlier, but the evil twisted

  Isobel he had seen. Her black hair a straggly mess, hanging over her face. She stared up at him through hooded eyes, eyes that shone a sickly yellow.

  She laughed. A laugh so deep it came from the pits of Hell. She raised her hand and in a voice that wasn’t her own, she said, “The time has come for me to reap my revenge on all present at my slaying.”Rooted to the spot and unable to move, Jacob could see the meat hook coming closer to him. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes as they overflowed and ran down his cheeks, he could taste their saltiness and tried to lick his lips but his mouth wouldn’t move.

  Then, there was darkness.

  •

  Mrs. Goodwin woke to the sound of the alarm clock. It was five thirty in the morning.

  She reached out to turn the ringing off and realised Jacob wasn’t beside her. She hauled her cumbersome frame from the bed and sighed.

  'So, he's up already is he? Well I hope he’s put the kettle on,' she thought.

  On the landing, she noticed the door leading to the shop at the bottom of the stairs was open and the light was on. 'Funny.'

  “Jacob, Jacob? Are you down there already?” she called but no one answered.

  Tutting to herself, she started down towards the shop. The door to the deep freezer was open; she could see Jacob standing there in his pyjamas with his back to her.

  “Jacob, what in heaven’s name are you doing down here in your nightwear? Come out of there at once.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Jacob, if this is another of your silly notions, I’ll brain you myself!” she said as she approached the freezer.

  A loud scream followed.

  •

  The news of Mr. Goodwin’s death had made its way round the village before breakfast. The true horror of his demise was being speculated over by everyone as they ate their toast and drank their coffee.

  Sarah and David just looked at each other, both unable to take in the fact that Mr. Goodwin was actually dead.

  “Don’t listen to the gossips, Sarah. Father Mather's will set the record straight in church this morning.”

  “I know, but that poor man. And Mrs. Goodwin too. They have no children and now she’s all alone ... it’s just so terribly sad.”

  The phone rang again.

  “Let it ring, it’s only more gossip. God, if we listened to all who have rung this morning, the poor old bugger has already been stabbed, hanged, had a heart attack, fallen down the stairs … The list is endless,” he said, angrily, as Sarah had made to answer the ringing.

  Isobel smiled to herself, but said nothing.

  •

  The sun was high as they all left for church. David reached into the glove compartment and took out his sunglasses. Isobel sat silently in the back.

  “Isobel, are you okay, honey?” Sarah asked over her shoulder.

  “No. I don’t feel well,” she replied.

  As they neared the church, Isobel’s breathing became erratic and heavy, sweat appeared on her brow. She started to panic. Sarah looked at David. He pulled up outside the church and Isobel threw up.

  “You go in, love. I think I should take Isobel home, poor little mite, she’s not well,” David said as he attempted to clean the vomit from his car with lots of tissues.

  Forcing herself to smile, Sarah said, “Okay.”

  She looked back at Isobel, now sweating profusely, and continued, “I think you should phone Doctor O’Conner, it’s probably a bug, but it’s best to be sure. Perhaps we should all go home?”

  “No, I’ll take her home, you go to the service, we’ll be fine. I’ll give the doc a quick ring. Will you be okay getting home, love?”

  “Yes, it’s a nice day, I’ll enjoy the walk. I still think I should come back with you though, she looks really unwell.”

  “We’ll be fine, won’t we, Isobel?” David said. “Now, go to the service, you’ve never missed one yet.”

  He lent and kissed Sarah on her cheek.

  “I need to go now!” Isobel chocked.

  Sarah got out of the car and waved as she walked up the pathway. Looking in his rear view mirror, David smiled.

  “Here we go then, love.”

  Isobel stared at him; her yellow eyes boring into him as she said in an unnaturally deep voice, “Get me away from here, NOW!”

  David spun round in his seat. Isobel looked up at him, her blue eyes now tearful. She said in her usual sweet voice, “Please take me home, David, I feel really sick.”


  Laughing to himself, David pulled away from the roadside. 'How silly of me,' he thought. 'It was the light, yellow eyes indeed. We all have deeper voices when we are trying not to vomit. All that’s happened today has made me jumpy.'

  However, David felt the need to keep looking in his rear-view mirror for the entire journey home. The light never played the same trick again.

  •

  Back at the Manor, Isobel seemed to recover, rapidly. The colour returned to her cheeks and she stopped sweating. In fact, a person wouldn’t have believed her unwell just ten minutes earlier, so David didn’t see the need to bother the doctor on a Sunday.

  Sarah returned home about noon. The service had been sad because Father Mather's had informed the congregation of Mr. Goodwin’s fatal accident in the deep freeze. Sarah carried with her a heavy heart as she entered the kitchen.

  “How’s Isobel?” she asked.

  “Fine, love, she’s upstairs playing. Must have been something she ate because she was fine by the time we got back home.”

  David got up to fill the kettle. Sarah slumped into one of the chairs and rubbed her eyes. She knew she'd be glad when her day was over. David looked at her pale face.

  “Penny for them?” he joked.

  “Well, you were right. Father Mather's told the congregation what had happened to Mr. Goodwin, and he also voiced his disappointment at the rumours that had spread so quickly and unsympathetically this morning. There was a lot of coughing and red faces I can tell you. But the worst thing for me was that they didn’t get to meet Isobel. Oh, I know with everything else I’m being silly, but I so wanted them all to meet her, I’m just disappointed I suppose.”

  Sarah could feel her face redden as she spoke. Saying the words out loud did indeed feel silly. David wrapped his arms around her,

  “Don’t worry, love, I’m sure they will all meet her soon enough.”

  In her room, Isobel sat at her dressing table, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She smiled.

  “You're so right, David, everyone will meet me soon enough.”

  As she spoke, her reflection began to change. It laughed a deeply disturbing laugh, and Isobel laughed back.

  Her music box began to play.

  Chapter Five.

  Sarah opened the door to the basement that led from the kitchen and turned on the light. She held onto the banister tightly as she descended the stairs.

  'One day,' she thought, 'we’ll get round to replacing these to a more solid structure.'

  At the bottom, she glanced quickly round the large windowless room, as she always did. Sarah had always felt uneasy below the main part of the house.

  Even as a child she would find any excuse possible not to go to the basement if her grandmother had asked her to, much to the amusement of her grandfather.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of down there, Sarah,” he would laugh. “There’s only old toot down there. Come child, I’ll go with you.”

  Taking her hand, he used to lead her to the basement for whatever her grandmother had requested. Now, as an adult, there was no one to hold Sarah's hand. The clutter had all been removed and David had whitewashed the walls and added an extra strip light to brighten the vast area. It was now a utility area housing the washing machine and dryer, ironing board, and a large chest freezer that was always humming a mournful tune.

  Happy enough that the basement appeared empty of anything that shouldn’t be down there, as it always was, Sarah busied herself loading the washing machine. As usual, she had left the door at the top of the stairs open, adding more light from the kitchen windows. She hated the quietness that was always present and turned on the radio. Many a time she had forgotten to turn the radio off when she'd left and David had threatened to remove it if she left it playing any more, as it was a waste of electricity.

  “The bills are high enough for this place without you adding to it.” he would often moan.

  So, Sarah made a mental note in her head to remember to turn the radio off when she was done, which would be as quick as humanly possible.

  As she bent down to retrieve the washing powder, the lights went out. ‘Shit!’ she cursed.

  “Hello, I’m still down here!” she shouted as she turned to face the stairs. She could see Isobel silhouetted at the top, by the kitchen door.

  “Isobel, honey, can you get David for me please the lights have gone out down here.” She was unable to hide the nervousness in her voice. Isobel stood motionless.

  “Isobel?”

  The door slammed shut, plunging her into total darkness. All her childhood fears crept back to her mind. Her eyes darted around in the blackness, eager to see if she was still alone. In the far corner, her eyes fixed on two yellow globes, unmoving, unblinking. It took several seconds for Sarah to realise these globes were actually eyes, staring, piercing her very soul. She opened her mouth to scream yet the icy hand of fear gripped her throat ... nothing.

  She stood motionless, and the eyes drew nearer. Invisible hands began pawing her, grabbing at her clothes and flesh. She slumped to the floor. She could feel hot breath upon her face and her arms were being held down as someone, or something, parted her legs.

  She screamed…

  •

  David heard Sarah scream and suddenly light from the kitchen windows filled the basement. He took the stairs two at a time.

  “Sarah, love, what happened? Are you hurt? Here, let me untie you, you’re all caught up in the sheets. What did you do, fall over the washing basket?”

  “There’s someone down here,” she whispered as David bent to relieve her of the bedding. Her eyes darted around. “Did you see him?” she pleaded.

  “Sarah, there’s no one down here, love. Only you and me,” he smiled. “Oh look, you’ve torn your blouse. Ouch, and your bleeding here, love. Let's go clean that scratch up. You must have caught it on the washing machine as you fell. Why didn’t you put the lights on? You know the door can slam shut if the kitchen windows are open. I put in that extra light for you, you really should be more careful, love.”

  “David, I did have the lights on! Isobel turned them out. I saw her standing at the top of the stairs before the door slammed shut. David, she’s really frightened me.”

  “Don’t be so ridiculous, Sarah!” he snapped. “For a start, Isobel was in the lounge with me the whole time, and secondly, why would a little girl do that? As for frightening you, well I think you need to grow up! She’s been nothing but sweetness and light since she got here. What harm has she done you, or are you really regretting becoming a family? That’s it isn’t it, you don’t want her here because she’s not ours!” David began pacing round the basement, waving his arms about as he always did when he was angry. “Well let me remind you, sweetheart,” he spat, “you can’t have kids!”

  He turned on his heels and started to climb the stairs, leaving Sarah to tend her wounds alone. Only now her pride had been injured as well as her arm.

  She sniffed loudly and hobbled towards the stairs as quickly as she could. David shouted down to her from the top of the stairs. “And don’t forget to turn the bloody radio off!”

  Holding the banister, Sarah looked back at the radio, she could feel the fear rising in the pit of her stomach at the thought of having to go back, leaving the safety of the kitchen light. Her hands started shaking, she looked towards the place she had first seen the yellow eyes and laughed out loud. The yellow globes she had seen in the darkness were still there, only now she could see they were the old round knobs on the cupboards her grandparents had used in the kitchen, when she was small. David now used them to store paint and brushes in. Feeling very silly, she walked back, turned off the radio and left the basement.

  Sarah climbed the stairs to her room, her arm now aching.

  She could hear Isobel’s music box playing and began to hum the tune.

  Girls and Boys come out to play…

  As she passed Isobel’s room, Sarah glanced in. There, standing in the middle of th
e room, unmoving, was Isobel ... just standing, staring.

  Sarah forced herself to smile, but Isobel, almost unaware of Sarah standing there, turned and walked to her dressing table and sat down. Sarah carried on to her room, not knowing what to do or say to the young girl, and feeling very silly and guilty about her accusations. What if Isobel had overheard what she had said to David?

  Sarah started to remove her blouse and stopped. There, on her left breast, was what looked like a bite mark, the bruising already evident. She quickly lifted up her skirt, remembering the horror that just took place, and saw finger sized bruises on her thighs. She started to cry. Had someone or something tried to rape her or was she really losing her mind?

  Suddenly she was aware of someone in the room with her. She spun round and found Isobel standing in the doorway. For a moment neither moved or said anything, they just stared at each other. Then Isobel spoke.

  “I would do nothing to hurt you, Sarah; you’re too special to me.” Then she simply turned on her heels and walked away. Sarah threw herself onto her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

  •

  Back in her room, Isobel looked in her mirror and smiled. “Oh no, Sarah, I would do nothing to hurt you, I need you, for now anyway.”

  Her reflection laughed, its yellow eyes dancing in the sunlight. “Her time will come,” it spoke.

  In her room, Sarah lay sleeping; the coldness that had enveloped the room made her shudder and the cold air escaped her lips in a cloud of mist, and the house groaned under the weight of the evil that was now present.

  •

  It was dark when Sarah finally awoke. David was sitting in the study, Isobel was asleep in bed. Sarah felt chilled to the bone and put on her thick, Aran cardigan and pulled it round her small frame.

  “I’m sorry, David, for this afternoon. Of course I know Isobel is a sweet thing and yes I do want her here. It’s lovely to have a child around I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.” She smiled weakly,

  Pulling her to him, David sighed, “I’m sorry too, love. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s been a harrowing few days for all of us, and you always feel uneasy in the basement. Perhaps we should move the utility to the wash-room at the end of the kitchen.”