by Amy Cross
“I’m fine,” he replies. “Almost back at your house, actually. I turned around when I saw your purse in the foot-well.”
“My purse?” Looking down at the table, I scan all the items, convinced that my purse should be among them, but finally I realize that it’s missing.
“You hadn’t noticed?” he asks. “It must have fallen out. Don’t worry, I’ll just drop it off.”
“That’s okay,” I tell him, “it can wait until -”
Suddenly I spot lights outside the window, as a car pulls up in the driveway. Seconds later, I hear the car come to a halt, followed by the sound of a door being opened and then closed.
“Knock knock,” Jason says over the phone.
“Right,” I mutter, hurrying to the door, unlocking it, and making my way outside, keen to get to him before he can get too close to the house. After all, I don’t want him coming inside.
“Missing something?” he asks, cutting the call as he holds my purse up.
“Thanks,” I reply, stopping in front of the streaming car headlights. “I guess I was distracted tonight.”
“I could tell,” he says with a faint smile.
“I’d invite you in,” I continue, “but, uh…” I pause as I realize that I don’t really have an excuse.
“It’s fine,” he tells me, taking a step back. “I understand. Anyway, I’ve got work early tomorrow. It was good to see you tonight, though. Maybe we can do it another time. Strictly on a non-date basis, though.”
“Sure,” I reply, keen to keep things vague.
“I know that look,” he replies. “We can -”
Suddenly he seems to spot something over my shoulder, toward the house.
“I’m sorry,” he adds, “I didn’t know you had company.”
“Huh?” Turning, I look at the house. All the lights are still off, but there’s no-one to be seen. After a moment, I turn back to Jason. “Company?”
“I…” He pauses, with an uneasy smile on his face. “It’s cool,” he adds, heading back to the driver’s side door. “Have a good evening, Beth.”
“Wait!” I shout, hurrying after him. “Did you see someone?”
“Well… Yeah, he was right at the window.”
I look back at the house again, but there’s still no sign of anyone.
“Beth, you don’t owe me an explanation,” he continues.
“You definitely saw someone?” I ask, my heart racing as I realize that there’s only one possibility.
“Sure, there was a guy standing in that window there.” He points toward the darkened kitchen window. “All I really saw was a silhouette, but…” He pauses. “There is supposed to be someone home with you, right? Beth, I definitely saw someone, so if you’re meant to be alone, there might -”
“No!” I say quickly, keen to keep him from worrying. “It’s fine! Yeah, my… my brother’s over, that’s all. It’s nothing.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” he replies. “John told me you’ve got no family at all.”
“It’s complicated,” I reply, keen to get back inside. “Thanks for the purse! I’ll see you around!”
Hurrying back to the door, I glance over my shoulder just in time to see a bemused-looking Jason reversing his car out of the driveway. Finally, I watch as he drives away for the second time.
“David!” I call out as I head back into the kitchen and fumble to lock the door. “It’s me! That guy, he was just a friend, I don’t want you to think that anything was going on!”
I hurry across the empty kitchen and through to the corridor, where I pause for a moment, waiting for some clue as to where I’ll find him.
“David! Can I see you? Please?”
I wait, my heart hammering in my chest with such force that I feel as if I might collapse.
“David! Hannah! Where -”
Hearing a noise over my shoulder, I turn and look back into the kitchen just in time to spot the shadow of a man moving outside the window, briefly illuminated in the moonlight before disappearing from view.
“David!” I shout, rushing to the door, unlocking it and finally pulling it open. As soon as I get outside, I see a figure standing just a few paces away, slowly turning back to look at me. “David!” I call out. “What are -”
As the figure finally faces me, I stare blankly for a moment before realizing that it’s not David at all.
“Hey,” John says with a faint smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask breathlessly, looking all around in case there’s any sign of David or Hannah. There’s a crushing sensation in my chest, almost as if I’m disappointed not to see them.
“I heard you shouting,” he replies, “and a moment earlier, I’d see a car in the driveway, so… I just wanted to check you were okay.”
“I thought you were up at your cabin,” I tell him.
“I came back early.”
I stare at him for a moment, still trying to work out why he was walking away from the house when I spotted him. After all, I was shouting like a maniac, calling my dead husband’s name.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Was that Jason Hodges you were with earlier?”
“Um… Yeah,” I reply, finally managing to get my thoughts together. “I figured after everything you said the other day, I should at least get out into the world again.”
“That’s good,” he replies. “Jason’s a good guy.”
“Were you…” I turn to look at the kitchen window for a moment. “Were you inside the house at any point?”
“Inside? No, why?”
“Were you in front of this window? Is there any way your shadow was on the glass, maybe so that it looked like there was someone inside?”
“Beth, what’s wrong?” he asks, clearly concerned. “I’m sorry if I startled you, but you seem like something else is on your mind.”
“No, I just…” Pausing for a moment, I realize that I need to stay calm and refrain from making John think that I’m completely losing my marbles. “It’s nothing,” I say finally. “Really, it’s just… I’m tired and I’m probably just obsessing over nothing. It’s like my psychiatrist said, the more I worry about appearing sane, the more I risk losing my mind.”
“Your psychiatrist?” he asks.
“I…” Realizing that I’ve let the cat out of the bag, I take a deep breath, but I feel as if there’s no point lying any longer. “I need to go to bed,” I tell him, heading back to the door. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a crazy night and I feel as if I just need to sleep and get a new day started.”
“Want to come over for a cup of tea?” he asks. “It’s late, but I’m always available for a chat. I’d love to know more about this psychiatrist you’ve apparently been seeing.”
“It’s fine, really,” I reply, opening the door before turning back to him. “How… How did the writing go? Up at the cabin?”
“Fine. I think I made a breakthrough. I’ve finally worked out how the story’s going to end.”
“That’s good,” I tell him, “maybe I can read it some time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come over?” he asks. “Or I could come inside for a bit? Don’t take this the wrong way, Beth, but you don’t seem like you’re quite in the right state of mind to be alone right now.”
“I’m fine, I swear,” I tell him. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
With that, I close the door and lock it, and after a moment I hear him making his way back to his own house. Resting my forehead against the wall for a moment, I take a series of deep breaths and try to stay calm, but finally I realize that staying in this house a moment longer is going to drive me crazy. Grabbing my phone, I bring up Jacqui’s number and wait for her to pick up.
“Hey,” she says as she answers, “I was gonna call you in a bit, how did it go with -”
“I need to come over,” I tell her. “I need to stay the night. I’ll grab a few things and I’ll be there in half an hour. I
s that okay?”
“Uh, sure, honey, but -”
“I’ll tell you when I get there,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder and watching the shadows for a moment, half-expecting to see David and Hannah. “I think this time I might actually be losing my mind.”
Six
Although I spot the faint orange glow on the horizon almost as soon as I pull out of the driveway, I don’t pay any attention at first. I figure it’s just a sports stadium in the distance having a late game, or maybe a random fire in one of the suburbs. It’s only a few minutes later, when I turn onto Jacqui’s road, that I realize a house is ablaze. Still, it doesn’t seriously occur to me that the house might be Jacqui’s, not until I come to a halt at a roadblock and see two fire engines on her lawn.
“No,” I whisper, getting out of the car as fast as possible and racing along the street. “No no no…”
“Hey!” one of the firemen shouts, stepping in my way and grabbing my arms. “You can’t go this way!”
“That’s my friend’s house!” I shout back at him as I try to twist free. Looking over at the fire, I’m shocked to see that the entire detached building is already being consumed by flames. For a moment, all I can do is stare in stunned silence, before suddenly I realize that I haven’t asked the most important question of all.
“You have to go back,” the fireman tells me. “This is -”
“Where is she?” I shout.
“Who?”
“The woman who lives in that house! Where the hell is she?”
“I…” He pauses, and I can see from the look in his eyes that it’s not good news. “We think the occupant fell asleep in bed with a cigarette and -”
“No!” I shout, pulling free and racing past the nearest fire engine just in time to see several men carrying a covered stretcher from the scene.
“M’am,” the fireman continues, grabbing my arm. “You have to -”
“Is that her?” I ask, as my entire body starts to tremble with shock.
“There appears to have only been one person in the house when the fire started,” he replies. “We only got the call about ten minutes ago, everything happened so fast.”
Just as I’m about to tell him that he’s wrong, that there’s no way Jacqui would have fallen asleep in bed with a lit cigarette, I spot movement at the side of the stretcher, and a burned arm slips out from under the black cover, its skin blackened and raw. One of the other firemen quickly slips it back under the cover, but it’s too late: I saw it.
“M’am,” the fireman next to me says after a moment, still trying to gently pull me back toward the roadblock. “You can’t be here. We have no idea whether or not the -”
Before he can finish, there’s a crashing sound nearby. Turning, I watch in horror as the entire front of Jacqui’s house comes crashing down in a wall of fire, sending pieces of burning wood tumbling onto the lawn with so much force that the ground shakes. Wide-eyed and shocked, all I can do is stare at the inferno.
“It looks like she tried to get out!” one of the other fireman shouts from the truck, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. “We found her body by the back door!”
“This can’t be happening,” I whisper, grabbing my phone from my pocket and bringing up Jacqui’s number. As the call tries to connect, however, I slowly become aware of a ring-tone coming from inside a nearby ambulance.
“There’s a phone in her pocket,” says a voice. “Leave it for now.”
Cutting the call, I watch as one of the firemen pushes the ambulance’s rear door shut just in time to stop me seeing Jacqui’s body as the black cover is removed. I get a very brief glimpse of a smoldering, blackened corpse before the door clicks into place, and then I turn to look at the burning house. I can feel the heat on my face, and as the flames continue to consume every last piece of wood, all I can think about is how Jacqui must have suffered during her final moments. When I spoke to her on the phone just thirty minutes ago, she sounded fine, but now she’s gone forever.
Looking down at my phone, I realize that there’s only one person I can call right now. I try John’s number, but there’s no connection, which I guess means he’s still up at his cabin. Bringing up the twenty-four-hour emergency number for Doctor Ferguson, my hands tremble so much that I can barely even raise the phone to the side of my face. As I wait for someone to answer, I can’t stop imagining Jacqui stumbling out of the house, probably on fire, most likely screaming and -
“I’m sorry,” says an agitated woman suddenly as she answers the phone, “Doctor Ferguson is unavailable right now.”
“It’s urgent!” I tell her, with tears in my voice. “My name’s -”
“He’s unavailable,” the woman says firmly. “He… He might not be available for a while.”
“I don’t care!” I shout. “He gave me this number for emergencies and -”
“Doctor Ferguson was attacked by a patient this afternoon,” the woman cuts in, sounding as if she too is close to tears. “He’s at Morgan General Hospital. He’s in surgery right now, they don’t know if…” She pauses. “They don’t know if he’s going to make it. He was stabbed multiple times.”
“Hospital?” I reply, hurrying toward my car. “No, that’s got to be wrong. Put him on!”
“I’m sorry,” the woman continues, “but I need to keep this line clear. Please, call back tomorrow and I’m sure someone will be able to help you.”
Cutting the call, I stop by my car and look back at the burning building. There’s some deep part of me that thinks this has to be a mistake, that somehow I’m going to wake up and find that it’s all in my head. After a moment, I fumble with the phone again and bring up Jason’s number, but as soon as I try to call him I get a wrong number dial-tone. I swear, I spoke to him over the phone several times recently, yet now it’s as if his number doesn’t exist at all.
“I’m losing my mind,” I mutter as I open the car door and climb inside. Even though I definitely don’t feel like driving right now, I can’t sit here and watch Jacqui’s house as it burns to the ground, so I put the car in gear and turn it around, heading back toward my house. With my mind racing, I try not to think about Jacqui’s final moments, or about whatever must have happened to Doctor Ferguson; finally, even though I know I shouldn’t use the phone while I’m driving, I bring up Jason’s number and try him again, only to hear that same wrong number tone. Convinced that there has to be some kind of explanation, I keep trying the number, over and over, each time with the same result. When that doesn’t work, I try John, but he’s still out of reach.
“Come on,” I whisper, barely able to see the road ahead as I blink away the tears. “Please, just pick up!”
By the time I park in the driveway at home, tears are in full flow down my face and I can barely even open the car door with my trembling hands. Stumbling toward the back door, I somehow manage to drop my phone, smashing it against the path and causing the battery to come flying out. It takes a moment for me to gather everything together, and I’m still trying to put the damn thing back into one piece as I unlock the door and head into the dark kitchen. Dropping everything onto the table, I fumble with the battery itself, which stubbornly refuses to go back into its slot.
“Why are you crying, Mummy?”
Stopping suddenly, I feel my blood starting to run cold as I look over at the corridor. Hannah is standing in a patch of moonlight, staring at me with dark, ringed eyes.
“Why are you crying?” she asks again.
I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out.
“Are you upset?” she continues. “Is it my fault? Do you want me and Daddy to leave?”
“I… No,” I reply, stepping toward her, “of course I -”
“Don’t!” she shouts, taking a step back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hurrying toward her.
“Stay back!” she shrieks.
I stop in my tracks, stunned by the way she’s staring at me. She’s only a few meters away,
but I can feel a kind of icy coldness radiating from her body. There seems to be something slightly off with her appearance, too, as if she’s glowing slightly and almost flickering in the blue-gray moonlight.
“Why did you ask that man about my injuries?” she asks.
“What man?”
“The man you had dinner with.”
“I… I’m sorry, it was stupid, I just -”
“Why didn’t you come and see me after the accident?” she continues. “I was still in my body, you know. Even though it was dead, I was still in there for a few hours, and… I waited for you, for you to come and tell me you loved me or to hold my hand, but you didn’t come. Don’t you love me?”
“Hannah, I love you more than anything in the world,” I tell her, with tears still flowing down my face. I take a step toward her. “There’s -”
“Don’t!” she shouts again. “Please, don’t come any closer!”
“Why not?” I ask. “Hannah, I just want to help you…”
“I broke my arm,” she continues, holding her left arm out to one side. “In the crash, I mean. Were you scared of seeing? Did the man tell you? It really hurt.”
Before I can reply, her left arm suddenly snaps between the shoulder and the elbow, bending down at an unnatural right angle as a piece of jagged bone splits the flesh. Blood begins to dribble down to her hand and then drips onto the carpet.
“Is that what you didn’t want to see?” she asks, staring at me with an icy expression.
“Hannah -”
“And then I hit my face,” she continues. “Mummy, it really hurt. Do you want to see what that was like too?”
She pauses, and slowly I become aware of a cracking sound coming from the left side of her face. Seconds later, her cheekbone seems to collapse in on itself, followed by the same thing happening to the left side of her forehead, which causes her eye socket to break; in turn, her left eye is partially forced out of the socket, ripping its upper edge on a shard of broken bone and causing a torrent of blood to wash down her face.
“See, Mommy?” she continues impassively, as if she’s demonstrating her injuries. “This is what I looked like at the end.”
