They passed from the shadows of the countryside to the warm glow of the suburbs, as they entered Louth, known as the capital of the Wolds. The sight of the house windows, with their welcome light, relaxed Jenny. The Tall, narrow buildings crowded close to the road, their 18th century architecture more suited to horses than the modern beast that carried them through the night. Jenny had often found the village claustrophobic, with its overhanging buildings and narrow cobbled streets, but tonight it provided welcome security.
“We have to call the police,” Jenny said. She looked at Robert, and knew he would handle the formalities. She did not want to think of what must come, funerals, lawyers, closing up the family home. And Doris, what would become of her? Robert looked so calm, he hid his feelings well. He seemed so solid, a buoy to cling to in her sea of grief.
“Yes.” Robert smiled a gentle smile, as he maneuvered the car through the narrow streets. “I’ll sort everything out as soon as we get you safe at my place.” Reaching back, he rubbed Rosie’s head. “And maybe some food for young Rosie here.”
“Who could do that to my parents? Did they have any enemies?” She gazed out at the old houses that stood to attention and lined the road like soldiers on parade. She felt envy for the people safe within those walls, whose life was not touched with death.
“Enemies. None that I know of. Their business was going well. They are… Were financially very sound, and as far as I know, all their clients were happy.” He stopped the car at a set of traffic lights, a frown wrinkled his face. “I don’t know a lot about the day to day workings of their business. I’m sorry, but it always seemed a little,” he paused, searching for the right word, “strange, I guess you’d say. Honestly, I felt a little uncomfortable with it at times.”
“I know, don’t feel embarrassed, that’s why I never joined them, but lately things have changed. They were pushing me to join them again and wanted to tell me something. I had to agree to do some training before they would, though. Have you any idea what they were getting at?”
He laughed a little self depreciating noise. “No, they never mentioned it to me, but you are thirty soon and that is a very powerful time. The thirtieth birthday of the first born child, I remember Alex telling me something about that,” he said, without taking his eyes from the road.
“Maybe we should have picked up some books from their house, done a bit of research, what do you think?”
He shrugged as he turned the car onto the drive of a modern, detached house. Jenny always thought this house too chic for Robert. She envisioned him living in an old farmhouse. But he had lived here ten years now, along with his wife Sophie and their two children James and Sara.
“Sophie and the kids are in France, for half term, so there are just us two. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, of course. I feel guilty but think I just want to sleep.”
“That’s natural, you had a big shock and now your body needs rest to overcome it. Would you like me to call Dr. James, maybe prescribe something to help?” He parked the car in front of a large garage, sliding the gear lever into park before turning to look at her.
“No, I’m fine. We must call the police, they will want to see me and I need to think.” She opened the door then stepped around it to let Rosie out. Hopping out of the car, Rosie ran off into the garden, barking a warning. “I think she’s really spooked after what happened at the house. Just as you arrived, someone smashed a window around the front. Rosie knew they were there.”
“Well, I don’t think they’re in my garden?” Robert smiled. He gazed nervously after the dog.
He’s trying so hard to be reassuring, she thought.
“Let’s get you inside.” He indicated towards the house.
“Rosie, Rosie, come on girl foostie time,” Jenny called out.
“Foostie?” Robert raised his right eyebrow.
“A silly play on words food, foost, foostie, I’m not sure how it came about, but she knows what it means.” Rosie came bounding up, a line of deeper brown down her back as if her hair had been jelled into a peek showed that her hackles were raised. But she was eager and excited for her tea. Jenny glanced round at the garden. It was Roberts’s pride, very formal, with immaculately clipped bushes, intense green lawns and a rainbow of flowers. She had spent many happy hours here, but shrouded by darkness, each shrub seemed to threaten hidden danger.
Robert stepped up to the house and led them into the hallway, switching on the lights. It looked so welcoming and normal. All different shades of beige, the current fashion, expensive furniture and polished wooden floors invited them in. The house smelled of roses, and Jenny immediately felt warm and safe.
As they made their way to the kitchen, Rosie slid on the floor. Her claws clattered in her exuberance to find her food as she skittered across it to follow them.
“This way, mutt.” Robert encouraged and led them through to the kitchen. “I have some chicken left over, will that be ok for her?” he asked.
“That’s fine. Could you also put some water down?”
“Sure.” He turned, retrieving a dish from the fridge, and prepared the chicken in an old casserole dish. Rosie followed him around the room with eager eyes, her stump of a tail wagging incessantly. Jenny found herself stood there, rigid with shock as normality happened all around her.
“Now, let’s get you into the bath.”
“I can’t. The police will want to see me… as I am.”
Roberts, deep brown eyes darkened and he ran a hand through his hair. “Sit here. I will call them.” His hands were shaking as he picked up the phone. “I’ll just go in…” He pointed at the door and disappeared into the hallway.
Jenny slumped down at the table, and with her head in her hands she started to cry. There was a hole where her heart should be and it felt like barb wire was wound tight around her guts. She kept seeing her parents, surrounded by blood and then she would see them laughing and happy and then dead. It was as if her brain could not process what she had seen and was trying to make sense of it. Happy memories played like old movies across the scene of her mind and produced new floods of tears. She could hear Robert talking in the background and someone was wailing. It took a second or two before she realized it was her. Rosie pushed her head onto her lap and whined softly. Jenny reached down and ran her fingers over the dog’s silken head. She pulled herself from the chair and sank to the floor, hugging the dog tight. Together they rocked as the tears continued to fall.
The sound of Robert clearing his throat grounded her. She looked up through her tears to see him standing there. She did not think she had ever seen him so uncomfortable. He dithered on the spot wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how to do so. “I’m okay,” she said standing. “What did the police say? Do we stay here or go to them?” She got up and sat back at the table.
Robert ran a hand through his hair. He looked at the kettle and then the table, eventually pulling up a chair and sitting across from her. “I don’t think they believe me,” he said. His hands were twiddling with the phone handset and as if he only just realized he dropped it on the table. “They said to stay here until they have investigated. They said to collect your clothes in plastic bags but that it was all right for you to get clean.” It was as if the words sparked something in him, he now had something to do that he could cope with. His attitude changed and with a smile on his face he rose. “Come on let’s get you in the bath.” He grabbed some black bags from under the sink and indicated for Jenny to follow.
He led the way from the kitchen to the guest bedroom. “You can sleep in this room,” he said.
The bedroom was a beautiful yellow, bright and sunny. For a second, she stopped. It seemed obscene that it was so bright when her parents lay cold and bloody.
“There are clean towels in the bathroom,” Roberts’s voice yanked her back to the present, “and I will find some of Sophie’s clothes and leave them on the bed for you. Are you okay?” he asked as he showed her the adjoining bat
hroom.
“I feel numb, as if it’s not real, that if I go back tomorrow they will both greet me happy as ever. Is that insane?”
He pulled her to him and hugged her tight, stroking her hair with a tenderness she could not imagine. “No, it’s a natural way of coping. You go now, get clean and relax. If you need me, I will be in the study. Just shout.” His smile looked unsure as he exited the room, and closed the door quietly behind him.
She knew this would be difficult for him too. The normally reserved Robert looked so distressed in this role of comforter, yet he tried so hard for her. Jenny walked back to the bathroom. Her head weighed the world and her shoulders slumped with a weariness that threatened to floor her.
Everything in the bathroom was white. It was too much for her eyes, so sterile and painfully bright. She closed the door and leant back against it, eyes shut tight.
She began to shake and lost the battle to hold back her tears. Her shoulders knocked against the wood as huge sobs racked her body. Eventually exhausted, she ran hot water into the bath, added a copious amount of tea tree and mint bubble bath and having piled her clothes into the black bags she climbed into the tub. It felt like coming home.
Gradually the hot water soaked away her distress, she breathed in the fresh smell. It was clean and pure and actually a little tingly on her skin. Almost like mild antiseptic. She relished the feeling and rubbed her body with a back brush, the scratchy surface, removed the blood and left her skin clean and pink. She scrubbed harder, pushing the brush into her body as sobs took over again, till she dropped the brush and cried into the water.
She finished by washing her hair and left the bath, climbing into a huge soft bath sheet. It smelled vaguely of roses and engulfed her in its comfort. She pulled out the plug and watched the water, now tinged red, slowly drain away. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to push away the despair that clawed at her stomach.
Blood stained water had run from her body to soil the pristine white bath mat. For a second, she worried about the mess but she felt too exhausted to care.
She tried to relax her tense shoulders by breathing deeply. Should she call Simon? Who had left her parents’ house? If they left by the drive, why had Robert not seen them? The more she thought, the more questions she had, but mostly she felt a deep aching sorrow in her heart that threatened to pull her down into despair. There were so many things she wanted to tell her parents, so many things she wanted to do with them. Like everyone, she always believed they had so much time and that things could be put off till tomorrow.
Back in the bedroom, she saw the clothes Robert had left. Thankfully, she dried and dressed and was pleased to find Sophie’s clothes were a good fit. Robert had married about ten years ago to Sophie, a sophisticated blonde from London. She was much younger than him and very attractive. She always had a ready smile and was fun to be around. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Yes?”
“Are you okay? Can I come in?” Robert asked.
“Yes of course.”
The door opened and Rosie rushed in, all wagging body and exuberant love. She bounded across the room and jumped up straight onto the bed. “Oh, God, Robert, I’m sorry, Rosie come on, get down.” Jenny grabbed her collar.
“It’s okay. She’s clean. I think tonight she can sleep on the bed, no problem.” Robert walked into the room with a hot mug of tea. “Here’s one Assam tea, china mug, and teaspoon of milk.” He winked as he handed the cup across.
Jenny laughed as she pulled the tea to her, like a comfort blanket. “I know I’m a tea snob, but it’s not fun to mock the distressed.” She sipped the tea. It was strong and malty just the way she liked it. “Have you heard from the police? Is Doris okay?”
“They’re sending a team out to the house. I still don’t actually think they believed me. They don’t know about Doris yet, but I’m sure she will be okay. They are going to want to speak to you over the next few days. I told them you would be here, and I told them you might be in danger till your birthday. They asked that we kept your location quiet.” Robert twirled the dresser chair to face Jenny and sat down.
“Did you tell them about Simon?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, sort of. They really thought I was a bit over dramatic. I don’t think there’s been a murder in this part of the county for fifty years. I think they will be more forthcoming once they’ve seen the… You know the b… the scene.” He raised his eyebrows. Jenny was not sure whether in sympathy or concern. “They may want to speak to you as you found the bodies. But not tonight. Do you feel like sleeping?”
“Oh, God no,” Jenny replied “I don’t know what to do. I want to go there, to help, to see them. I want to do anything to keep me busy. I don’t want to think.”
“Sure. Have you rung Simon yet?” he asked, an eyebrow rose quizzically.
“No, I can’t make my mind up what to do.” Her expression asked the unspoken question, Robert what do I do?
“Well, forget it for tonight. It’s just gone midnight, and he’s probably asleep. The police may tell us what we should do tomorrow. Now come on.” Robert stood, replaced the chair and headed for the door.
“What?”
“You will love my homemade chicken soup.”
“No, I couldn’t eat anything.” She almost smiled.
“Yes you can. You need to keep your strength up. A little soup will be easy on your stomach and will keep you going. Come on, and we’ll get through this.”
They left the room, Rosie tagged along behind. She stayed close to her mistress, still sensing her pain. Jenny had an uneasy feeling. She remembered her mom had told her something about Simon when she was younger. It was important, but she just couldn’t remember what it was. The urge to ring him was strong, but so was the fear that he had done this. Shaking her head, she thought. Let’s just get through tonight, and see what the police say. They were bound to want to talk to her.
Chapter Seven
Simon was wrenched from sleep. His eyes sticky, yet instantly open. He gasped for breath as enormous power rushed into his body. It was as if he were connected to the mains. Energy and euphoria lit up every nerve and fiber of his being as the life blood was drained from Alexander Stephens. It surged into him, filled him with vigor, and gave him dominion over this realm.
He gasped again as more power entered his body, his rapture growing, tensing his muscles it thrilled down his spine like a lover’s caress.
Blood gushed onto his hands. He smelt its coppery aroma and could almost taste it. Warm on his skin, the blood gave him power, the blood was his power.
He watched the fear and panic in his friend’s eyes as he realized he had been bested. His own hand held the wine glass, as it filled with blood, the life blood of his friend.
Blood surged from the gaping wound, filled with air bubbles, causing it to splash over the side of the glass and land warm on his skin. It spurted, bubbled and cascaded from the horrific gash, like a living beast, eager to escape it flowed into the crystal. Once the glass was full, his left hand appeared holding a pewter container shaped like a horn. He moved it skillfully into place, careful not to spill any of the precious fluid.
Simon could feel the power that held Alex that kept him upright as his life blood drained into the sacrificial vessel. Simon’s eyebrows drew close together with strain. The concentration needed to hold the commanding figure in place was immense. His power suspended Alex six inches off the floor, vertical, arms outstretched. His head was upright, his neck slashed, gaping, muscle, tendon and blood vessels were exposed in the gruesome wound. Alex looked like a slaughtered lamb, hung up to drain. He was unable to speak. Panic had crossed his face, followed by fear and quickly replaced with nothing as his life drained out of him along with his blood.
“What’s going on? What’s all the noise?” Helen asked as she entered the kitchen, a magazine in her right hand. She hesitated, took in the scene, and then rushed forward. “Stop this, how could you.” She was within three feet of touching he
r husband, a slender hand outstretched.
Simon turned his body, saw her agony and uttered the word duratus or freeze, sending the spell to hold her, suspended away from her love. His brow furrowed even more with the tremendous concentration and power needed to stop this tigress, to prevent her from fighting to protect her man.
Helen stopped as if she had hit a brick wall. Held there, her blond hair blowing out from around her shoulders, her arms pushed out at her sides. Her soft face showed stress and anguish, but not fear.
The power needed was immense. Simon felt a bead of sweat slide down his forehead, dripping in front of his eyes, and he felt a splinter of fear slide into his mind. Could he hold her? She was strong, but he was stronger, with the blood from the sacrifice. He would win.
Suspended just off the ground Helen pushed against the mystical barrier that suspended her. She tried to utter a spell, but her mouth would not move. Tears streamed from her green eyes as she watched the light go out of Alex’s blue ones. “My love,” she said inside her head. “Sleep now my darling and wait for me.”
Simon watched, unable to do anything, as he held Alex for a moment longer. He waited until the last drop of his blood dripped into the receptacle. Then he placed a cap on the horn and released the dead body of his friend to the floor. It fell. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut dropping to the marble heels first and then toppled back so the body was lying face up on the cold floor. The head hit last with a dull thud. His black suit and white shirt on the grey marble looked so out of place.
Simon turned and approached Helen. He set the horn on the table and watched the panic cross her face. He could feel the energy of it as she struggled to free herself. He stooped and picked up a statue of a prancing horse, a gift from Jenny many years ago. He smiled slightly at the horror he saw reflected in her eyes.
Flee Page 5
