The Guesthouse

by Abbie Frost

  ‘You’re insane. You’re fucking insane.’ She struggled against the rope for a moment, and then fell still.

  He just chuckled and turned back to the photos. ‘I’m not insane, I just like to live freely.’ He carried on, the sound of his voice echoing in the silence. ‘I decided not to plan anything too rigidly, so even I didn’t know how it would all pan out. That’s the best thing about experiments, you never know what might happen. What you can use. When that annoying little cat started hanging around the place a few weeks back I thought of bashing its head in there and then. But I left it in case it came in handy later. And it did.

  ‘Rob’s little accident on the hill is another example. I watched you all from the trees and it suddenly came to me – like an epiphany – a way to stage his death. And it worked out better than I could ever have imagined.’

  ‘So you made Liam tell us Rob had died. Then forced him back into the house and killed him there.’

  ‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he chuckled. ‘But it was a long road with Liam, you see, I had to ruin his career just to get him here.’ He laughed. ‘And even that wasn’t enough.’

  As he stood there by the wall, something about his shape and size sent a memory flickering into Hannah’s mind. A tall shadow standing in the storm by the outhouse, wrestling with the door.

  ‘I saw you!’ Hannah said. ‘When I went out in the storm.’

  Jack laughed. ‘You almost caught me, but you always were clever. A chip off the old block.’

  ‘But what were you—’

  A sound cut Hannah off. The sound of something collapsing in the house above them. He went to the door and looked out. ‘Not long now, princess, not long now. The flames will be here soon, so it’s about time we lit the final fire.’ He rubbed his hands together. Relishing the moment.

  Hannah closed her eyes and remembered those words from another time. A little girl with her daddy on the way to the circus. Not long now, princess, not long now. And she had screamed with delight when he had lifted her up and tossed her into the air. ‘Higher, Daddy, higher,’ she had said, and he had laughed. But there was no laughter in his voice now.

  ‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘Time to find your sister.’

  He untied her from the bench, but kept her hands bound together. Dragged her out towards the swimming pool, a torch in one hand, and led her towards the tunnel. She limped behind him, her head thumping with pain. No fight left in her.

  She could only guess what he was planning. Perhaps he needed her and Lucy in the same room, to make it look like they started the fire. There was no point in trying to get away. He was much stronger and she was exhausted and injured. Later, she told herself. She would fight back later.

  As they entered the tunnel, the smell of smoke grew stronger, blending with the stink of chlorine and algae. His torch played across the slimy walls as he dragged her along, closer and closer to the fire. All those doors between here and the drawing room would protect this area, but only for a while.

  And Chloe. Where was Chloe? And what had he done with Mo?

  She made a sudden lurch forward, but he grabbed her waist and lifted her off her feet, threw her against the wall. The air punched out of her and she collapsed on the floor. Gasped in a breath. Tried again to kick out at him, but he just laughed and tightened his grip.

  ‘That’s my girl, always a fighter.’

  As he lifted her to her feet, she snapped back her head and felt it connect with his face. A yell of anger and he spun her round. The back of his hand cracked against her cheek and her face whipped to the side. Then he frogmarched her forward. She screamed out in pain and frustration, hating him more than she thought possible.

  Along the tunnel they went, her dragging back, him jerking her forward. She heard a rhythmic thumping sound as they passed the shower room and he laughed. Leaned close to the door and shouted, ‘Not long now, Maddie.’

  They went up the final passage and into the cellar. A dim light flickered from the ceiling, a hanging bulb casting shadows in the gloom. He threw her onto the stone floor and disappeared back down the tunnel to get Lucy from the shower room.

  As she lay there staring up at the steps, she saw smoke creep in under the door above them. It pooled across the ceiling, growing by the second. She had to escape. Her feet thudded on the steps as she charged to the top and slammed into the door. Pushed at the handle, but nothing happened. Of course it was locked.

  Back at the bottom of the steps, she collapsed against the wall, fighting the tears, and watched him drag Lucy through the door and throw her to the floor. She crawled across to Hannah and their eyes met.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Hannah whispered, and Lucy squeezed her arm.

  ‘Well, isn’t this lovely?’ Jack spoke in the soft, kind voice she hated so much. ‘The whole family back together.’

  They watched him walk away from them and open the freezer, throw bags of frozen food to the floor and reach inside. Lucy started to shake.

  ‘I have something for you, Maddie.’ He pulled out a small package, held it up to the light, and then tossed it to Lucy. ‘Don’t say I never give you anything.’

  Lucy caught it, sobbed, then let it drop to the floor.

  It was a hand, a frozen human hand curled almost into a fist, a hand with two fingers missing:

  Rob’s hand.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Hannah tried not to breathe, tried not to look at the brown lump on the floor. Lucy was trembling and Hannah pressed her shoulder against her, trying to give her strength, to give herself strength.

  Jack strode towards them, his face in shadow, and took something from inside his coat. It glinted under the light, a flash of thin metal. A scalpel. She thought about the scalpels she had found beside Rosa and Liam, imagined her own body being butchered in a corner somewhere.

  Jack stepped closer, flipped the blade up and down in his hand, pointed it at them. ‘Look at you. You’re both pathetic.’

  He stared at the lump of frozen meat on the floor and his lips curved. ‘What is it they say about revenge being best served cold?’ As the grin spread over his face, Hannah surprised herself by noticing that he was still handsome.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed writing to you, Maddie.’ He pointed the blade at her. ‘Keeping in touch. But it couldn’t go on forever: you were doing too well for yourself, you might have got right away and never come back. I had to have you back.’ His eyes drifted to Hannah. ‘Both of you.’

  Still watching them, he reached behind one of the plastic boxes and pulled out a can of petrol. Hannah felt her chest begin to heave.

  He looked up at the smoke gathering along the ceiling and checked his watch. ‘We need to light the final fire, to speed things along a little. It’s been so lovely spending time with my girls I almost forgot the time.’

  He moved towards them, unscrewing the lid of the can, sloshing petrol across the floor.

  ‘They’ll know you set the fire, they’ll know it was you,’ yelled Hannah.

  He laughed, carried on pouring, soaking the piles of junk in the alcove. ‘They won’t, because I’m Henry Laughton and I’m miles away from here, with a solid alibi.’ He tipped petrol into the freezer. ‘It’s not my fault a mad woman murdered a group of innocent strangers and then killed herself in the fire.’

  Lucy had stopped shaking. She stood up and Hannah noticed her hands weren’t tied. Perhaps Jack thought she wouldn’t put up a fight.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘No one will believe it was me.’ Her voice was calmer now.

  As he swung round to face her, some of the petrol spilled onto the floor. ‘Well, look at little Maddie all grown up.’ He shook his head. ‘Oh, they’ll believe me all right.’

  He glanced over at the computer room, and Hannah felt a flicker of hope. If he went in there, they had a chance. But his eyes narrowed, as if he’d read her thoughts, and he moved forward to grab her. Yanked her to her feet.

  One muscled arm across her chest, one hand at her throat
– the blade touching her skin – he shuffled them into the computer room, keeping an eye on Lucy.

  ‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘We won’t be long.’

  His touch felt delicate, but it would take just one movement, one slash, to kill her. Inside the stink of rotting meat was overwhelming. Flies buzzed around the blanket that hid Liam’s decomposing body.

  Around the room they shuffled in what felt like a ghastly dance, him splashing petrol and her trying to wiggle the rope around her hands loose. She flinched when he showered liquid over the hump that had been Liam and her stomach churned as the smell of petrol mixed with rotten meat. The blade nicked her throat and she froze. Forced her body close to his, forced her mind away from the memories the closeness threatened to bring back.

  In the cellar, Lucy hadn’t moved. He let Hannah go and she took in a shaky breath, went to Lucy’s side. Her hands were still bound, but she could feel the knot loosening.

  As he put the petrol can down, Lucy spoke, her voice strong. ‘I thought you loved Hannah. You don’t want to hurt her.’

  For a moment he looked at her with an expression that might have been pity. ‘Did I tell you that? Granted, she’s superior to you in every way.’ Another grin. ‘But she’s to blame for the whole thing, you know. If she’d behaved like a proper daughter, none of this would have happened. And you never know, you might be lucky, they might even blame all this on her instead.’

  He kicked the half-empty can across the floor and wiped his hands on his filthy coat. Looked around slowly – satisfied – getting ready to set the fire.

  ‘Everyone knows poor Hannah’s been off her rocker since Ben’s accident.’ That horrible grin. ‘That was a lucky break. But then, you make your own luck, don’t you?’

  ‘You! You killed Ben?’ Hannah screamed. If only she could get to him; to hurt him the way he hurt people.

  His tone didn’t change. ‘Like I said on Facebook, I think he wanted to die. When the opportunity presented itself to make his dream come true, I took it. Even turned off the lights on his bike afterwards.’

  Hannah couldn’t speak, but Lucy stepped forward. ‘That crying we heard,’ she said. ‘It was me, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Ah, clever girl, you recognized yourself. I hoped you would. That was another brainwave. You see, I recorded it all those years ago – a video of you crying in the cell and your mother bringing you food. I kept it, in case I ever needed to prove she was responsible for keeping you imprisoned. Just another piece of evidence to make her toe the line. But it turned out to be perfect for my little experiment.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Lucy shouted. ‘You pathetic bastard.’ And that did get to him. He moved towards her, his hand flexing on the scalpel.

  Hannah struggled again with her hands, the knot getting looser and looser. Just a few more seconds. ‘My mother used to tell me all about you, about how needy you were.’ It was a lie, but it got his attention.

  As he turned to her, the blade raised, she shot a quick glance at Lucy. Urging her to do something. A moment’s hesitation, a lifetime of fear flickering across her face, and then Lucy moved. Leapt forward and hit the light switch, throwing the room into darkness.

  Hannah dived to the ground, but she wasn’t fast enough. Jack rushed forward and she heard the slash of a blade. A jagged pain exploded in her leg and she screamed. Rolled away, clutched at her thigh, felt warm blood against her palm. She bit her tongue and held her breath. Listened to Jack swear and grope around on the floor for her.

  ‘Where are you? Come here you little bitch.’

  She shifted away quietly and half-crawled, half-limped to the side of the room. He stopped and stood still, listening. Silence. Then Lucy made a rustling sound at the side of the room.

  He charged towards it, and Hannah threw out a foot, sending him sprawling to the ground. His head cracked against concrete, and Lucy was on him. She screamed and hit him repeatedly. Hannah heard his head bashing against the floor, the sound like a drum in the dark. Silence once more.

  She heard Lucy get up and walk across the room. Then the slosh of liquid as she picked up the can of petrol. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom Hannah watched Lucy stand over Jack. Heard the gurgle of liquid being poured across his body. Then she raised her foot for one final kick and a stamp.

  After that the only sounds were Hannah’s gasps and the drip of petrol. Then a crash from upstairs and the door burst open, letting in a rush of heat and light. Clouds of smoke billowed in.

  ‘Hannah, come on,’ Lucy said. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  They clung to each other for a second then headed into the tunnel. Hannah could barely walk, had to cling onto Lucy. Blood dripped from her soaking jeans, her vision blurred. But Lucy paused at the door to look back at the body lying in a pool of petrol on the floor. Flames reached the door at the top of the stairs and with a whoosh they hit the petrol vapours and leapt down into the cellar. In seconds the whole room was ablaze.

  Lucy paused to watch Jack’s body go up, and then they hobbled away, a wall of heat chasing them. They groped along the tunnel, choking for air. Daggers of pain cut through Hannah every time she put down her foot. Past the shower room they staggered, along the little tunnel and then the side of the pool. It seemed like miles.

  Thank God. The door at the end was unlocked. They burst through it and up the steps into the garden. Into the brightening dawn. Hannah blinked back tears and her head whirled.

  At the garden gates, they stopped and stared at the house. The top half was smouldering now, but she could see the fire taking hold in the cellar. Great waves of heat rolled off the building. It looked as if most of the house would survive, the rain would make sure of that. Perhaps Jack had figured that he didn’t need to destroy it completely, so long as the murders could be blamed on one of them.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Lucy shouted, and for the first time she looked really happy. ‘He’s dead. The bastard’s dead.’ And through the haze of pain, Hannah smiled too.

  They staggered along the slope, but Hannah kept stopping. Her shoe sticky and wet with blood, her strength fading.

  Lucy slowly lowered her to the ground. ‘I should run for help.’

  Hannah’s vision blurred. ‘Maddie,’ she said. ‘Don’t go yet.’

  Lucy gave her a tiny, very sweet, smile. ‘It’s Lucy, your sister Lucy.’ She pointed at the house. ‘I left Maddie back there. She’s gone.’

  Then the world started to fade and Hannah’s eyes closed. Something warm wrapped around her. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Lucy whispered.

  And as the world turned black, Hannah felt something touch the top of her head. She thought it was a kiss.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  No pain, just warmth and the need to go back into the darkness.

  A hand touched hers. ‘Hello, love, it’s Mum.’

  Hannah forced her heavy eyelids open and the world blurred. She couldn’t speak.

  ‘It’s all right, I’m here,’ Ruby smiled down at her. ‘You hurt your leg, remember. You hit your head and you got too cold.’

  Memories flickered across her mind: bumping along in an ambulance, a hospital full of staring faces and probing hands. And pain, lots of pain.

  She tried to sit up but fell back against the pillow. Her sore eyes took in the little room, a space she vaguely remembered. Tears began to fall as she stared at Ruby. Her mother leaned over and dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hannah whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right, you’re going to be all right now.’

  The memories hit her like a blow. The Guesthouse, the fire. Jack Roper. She took deep breaths and tried to struggle up again.

  ‘Hannah.’ Her mother touched her shoulder. ‘It’s OK, calm down.’

  ‘Jack.’ She wasn’t sure if she’d said the name or just thought it.

  Her mother’s hand tightened on hers. ‘He’s gone, love. He’s dead.’

  Hannah shook her head and wiped away a tear. ‘He wa
s a monster.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I should have told you the truth, but I didn’t want you to remember it.’

  ‘You saved me.’ Hannah looked at her mother.

  Ruby brushed a hand against Hannah’s cheek. ‘I should have done more. He used to write to me, telephone me, beg us to come back. To let him see you. That was one of the reasons we kept moving, why you had to go to all those different schools. Why you had trouble making friends.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Hannah tried to smile at her.

  ‘For a while it all stopped. He sent me a letter saying he had remarried and wouldn’t be bothering us any more. But another letter came about five years ago.’ She looked away. ‘It said he would make us pay for ruining his life. But then I heard he had died, and I was so relieved. Should have told you everything then.’

  They sat together in the little room holding hands. Three names swirled through Hannah’s mind: Lucy, Chloe, Mo. But she was too afraid to ask if they were alive. Just for now she would let herself rest.

  When a doctor came to check on her, Ruby stepped outside. He asked how she was feeling and she managed to nod.

  ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he said. ‘We stitched up your leg, but you lost a lot of blood. You had concussion when you came in, but otherwise you’ll be back to normal soon. The police want to talk to you, but I’ll hold them off until you’re ready.’

  After he had gone, she slept again, but dreamed of the swimming pool and the rooms under The Guesthouse, dreamed of a little girl still lost down there crying in the dark.

  When she woke her mum was with her again. ‘It’s all right, you’re safe,’ she said, helping Hannah swallow some water. ‘Lori will be in to see you later on.’

  This time Hannah had to ask. ‘Lucy?’ The word came out as a whisper.

  Ruby’s hand gripped hers, and she suddenly wanted to forget it all. Go back into that wonderful dreamless sleep again. But, no. ‘Please, Mum.’