by Helen Phifer
‘That house down there, by the lake.’
‘Ah, you mean Lake House. We don’t talk about that around here, it’s bad luck. No one bothers about it, we let it be. Always have done. It’s best that way.’
‘My friend is stopping there; I’ve come to surprise her with a visit. In fact, I could just head back down there and save messing you around. It looks a bit desolate and run-down.’
‘It is. No one has lived there for years. Your friend is either very brave or very foolish to even think about living there on their own.’
A voice spoke directly down his ear, tickling the tiny hairs and making him shudder.
‘Your friend is mine now.’
Connor turned in time to see the huge rock that was being brought down in his direction. Before he could register what was happening, it smashed into his skull, bringing a wave of hot bile into his mouth as blackness began to fill his mind. It hit the side of his head again and his knees buckled. But as he tried to lift his hands to protect himself, the third blow crashed down, and he sank into unconsciousness.
Oblivious of being dragged the last few feet to the derelict summerhouse which had once served Lake House, he didn’t feel the way he was thrown over his attacker’s shoulder like a sack of coal and thrown through the broken window. He crumpled to the rubble-filled, dirty floor in a heap, his blood and brain fluid leaking heavily from the open wound in his fractured skull.
Chapter Forty-Eight
T he early morning dawn chorus was loud. So loud that Maddy stirred in her sleep. Stretching out, she lay there in that blissful state between being fully awake and still in a dream. Last night, she’d written until her fingers were aching and her eyes could barely stay open. Unsure whether it was the walking, the fresh air, or a combination of both, she’d fallen into bed and slept without stirring.
Opening her eyes, she blinked at how bright the sun was so early, then rolled onto her side and drifted back off. This time, there were dreams, lots of them. The house was restored back to its original splendour and there was a lot of people bustling around. Servants were bringing silver platters of food from the kitchen and laying them out on the huge dining table. Her stomach had grumbled at the sight of it all; it was so vivid she could smell the freshly baked bread and roast hams. In the kitchen, a sideboard filled with cakes made her mouth water. There was a cook, kitchen maids, and several other people chattering loudly while they worked.
Moving on from there, she marvelled at the hallways which were decked out with the most beautifully scented floral arrangements. They were having a party. How wonderful! This was going to be fun.
She followed a maid rushing up the staircase with a beautiful pale blue, silk dress over her arm. There was a lot of excited chattering from the bedroom which was hers. She floated towards the doors which were ajar and saw a cluster of girls all dressed in matching gowns. They were lined up on chairs, with a maid behind each one, rolling their hair up into intricate pin-curls.
A tall, dark-haired woman was standing with her back to them. She was staring out of the windows, down at the gardens or the lake. From this angle, Maddy couldn’t be too sure, but something had caught her attention.
She stepped closer to the glass, pressing her face against it, then let out the loudest, high-pitched shriek that Maddy had ever heard. It was as if time stood still; each and every girl stood in slow motion then walked across to the picture windows to see what the woman was screaming at. Before long, there were gasps and more screams.
The woman turned around, pushing through the line of girls with both hands, parting them so that she could get through them, then she ran. Maddy tried to step to one side, but the woman ran through her. The feeling was strange, as if she’d been winded and her insides had frozen for a second. She couldn’t breathe, then a rush of air filled her lungs as she exhaled and stumbled forwards. Running into the room, she pushed her way to the window to see what all the commotion was about…and that was when she saw her.
There was a woman, floating face down in the lake, her beautiful, white wedding dress and jet-black curls billowing around her. Maddy pushed herself away from the window; she knew a bit of first aid. She’d learnt how to do CPR at her last job, so she could help. Turning, she ran for the stairs. The noise behind her was deafening, the girls huddled together sobbing and wailing so loud the floor of the room was vibrating.
Running down the stairs, Maddy raced through the open doors and across the grass, which scratched at her bare feet. There was quite a crowd around the lakeside; she heard thudding footsteps behind her as a man’s voice bellowed, ‘Ada! Ada!’
Maddy turned to see whose voice it was and felt her heart miss a beat. It was a younger version of Seth, with similar eyes and facial features. Much taller and fitter than her, he raced towards the water’s edge where a group of men were trying to reach the woman but her heavy, sodden dress was making it extremely difficult.
She watched the man unbutton his heavy coat, throwing it onto the ground. He kicked off his boots, shrugged off his ruffled shirt, and ran into the water, where he slipped his hands under the woman’s armpits and began to drag her out of the icy lake. Maddy found herself praying for Ada to be okay. The other men waded in to help him, and between them they managed to drag her body onto the grass and turn her onto her back.
Maddy stared in horror at the frozen face of the woman lying in front of her. She was beautiful…and looked a lot like her. She stepped closer. Maybe she could help. She tried to get past the men who were all standing around staring in horror but couldn’t push through them.
The Seth guy was kneeling on the floor, cradling his bride-to-be, and crying. The woman’s eyes were glazed, her lips parted slightly and tinged blue. No amount of resuscitation could help her; she’d been dead for some time.
Maddy wanted to scream in frustration. This was her wedding day. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, here. The woman hadn’t even made it to the church. How had she ended up drowning in the lake?
A sob filled her chest and she opened her eyes, relieved to see she was in bed, not standing like a morbid onlooker at the lakeside tragedy. Thank God, it was a dream! It was just a dream, Maddy. She lay for a while, breathing deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She’d never before dreamt anything that seemed so real, so horrific, and so sad. She tried to process and store it all before it slipped away, like most dreams do.
Realising she needed to write down what she’d dreamt, she threw the covers back and stood up. Immediately, a shooting pain flared from her ankle up to her thigh, reminding her that she’d injured it yesterday.
Gingerly, she hobbled over to the desk where she took out a notebook and wrote down everything she could remember. She didn’t realise her hands were trembling and her heart was racing until she put the pen down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream, just a dream.
Looking out of the window, she could see the exact spot where they’d dragged the dead bride out of the water and laid her on the grass. The dead bride who’d looked remarkably like her, not to mention her fiancé, who had looked like a younger version of Seth. She knew that was frankly ridiculous, because she had no idea what he’d looked like when he was younger. He could have sported a Mohican and wore tartan drainpipes, for all she knew. It was her subconscious taking his image and turning into a Mark Darcy lookalike, nothing more.
A cold chill settled over her despite the warmth of the breaking sun through the windows. Slipping her boots on to support her swollen ankle, she carefully made her way downstairs. As she did, she was reliving the whole dream, the images going around inside her mind. It had been so real: she’d smelt the fresh bread; the flowers; she’d heard the laughter and excited chattering; the screams had shaken her to her very core. But the house was still now, and she got the impression it was listening to her, waiting for her to give her opinion out loud on whether she was losing her mind or not.
She walked into the kitchen, expecting to see it full of servants, and
was relieved to see it was the same, empty, run-down room it had been last night. Flicking the switch on the kettle, she made a mug of tea then hobbled outside to drink it on the front steps. She was frozen.
The warmth of the sun felt good on her face, and she cupped her hands around the mug to warm them until the sun took over. Her eyes scanned the grass for the spot where the bride had been pulled from the water. Was she going mad, or was she reliving something that had happened here a very long time ago? She didn’t think she was going crazy; it was only one dream. And no one in her family suffered from hallucinations or mental illnesses that she was aware of.
Was the house sharing its secrets with her? Had it decided to show her its past because she was the only one brave enough to stay here on her own? The sodden dress on the front steps and the confetti in the kitchen could have been some villager’s idea of a joke, but then they must know the history of the house. Whatever it was, she needed to find out more. She felt as if someone or something was reaching out to her.
Maddy made up her mind to go back to the village and speak to Glenys. If she didn’t know, maybe she knew who would. Anyway, she needed to see if her car had been fixed. Once she got it back, she could travel to the nearest library and do some research on the house. And if it turned out that what she’d ‘witnessed’ had been nothing more than a dream, then at least she had the bare bones to make into a story. That was the trouble with her creative mind; sometimes it took the simplest of things and turned them into a full, blown horror story.
As she turned to go back into the house, her eyes fell on the grassy spot where the woman had been cradled by her grieving fiancé. Did you go into the lake and take your own life, Ada? Or did someone take it from you?
Chapter Forty-Nine
L ost in thought, she glanced up to the fells and stared in wonder at the colourless rainbow which had formed among the mist. The arc appeared white but, squinting her eyes, she could see the slightest hues of colour throughout it. It was the opposite of the colourful rainbows she’d had a fascination with her whole life.
Maddy stared at it in awe, wondering exactly what it was, when a voice mumbled from behind her.
‘It’s a fog bow.’
‘Jesus!’ Clutching her chest, she turned to see Alfie standing to the side of her. He’d crept up while she’d been lost in thought. ‘A fog bow? What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It happens when the water droplets in the mist are too small to retract and reflect the light. It makes the rainbow appear white.’
Maddy looked away from him and back towards the rainbow. The sun was making the fog fizzle away and, along with it, her fog bow.
‘They’re very rare.’
She looked back at him. ‘Yes, they must be. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘We get all kinds of weird weather here. I like the weather. Thunderstorms are my favourite. I love watching the lightning and listening to the sky rumble. My ma hates them; she acts all weird before one breaks.’
Maddy smiled. ‘I like a good thunderstorm, too. Alfie, why do you keep lying on the jetty and staring down into the lake? I’ve seen you there a few times now.’
He shrugged and looked down at his feet. ‘I told you, I like to watch the lake people. I count them to make sure they don’t move.’
‘Who are the lake people?’
‘Dunno. They just live under the water.’
Maddy didn’t know what to say to him. Maybe it was his way of coping with life. Who was she to question him and his imaginary friends? She didn’t know who or what the lake people meant to him.
She stood up. ‘I’m going into the village. Do you want to walk with me?’
He shook his head. ‘Too slow.’
‘What is?’
‘You. I have to be quick today. Can’t hang around. Ma will go mad if I’m late.’
‘Oh, okay. You better get going then.’ She watched him, then as an afterthought shouted, ‘Alfie, how many lake people are there?’
He was walking away but paused briefly to count on his fingers. ‘There were three, and now there’s four. Next week there might be five. Sometimes they grow. I don’t mind it when there’s more of them. I get scared when I count, in case there’s less of them.’
He began to run towards the dry-stone wall he’d led her over yesterday to show her the shortcut to the village, and she watched him go. She had no idea what he was talking about, but at least he was harmless. And now she knew all about fog bows; she hadn’t known such a thing even existed. He was more intelligent than she’d given him credit for, and she instantly felt bad for judging him. Who was she to form an opinion of the boy? He’d lived here long before she came along, and at least he was happy. He didn’t seem to shoulder the worries most teenage boys his age did.
Christ, what she’d give to be that age and innocent again. You thought going to school and falling out with your friends over which band was the coolest, was the worst thing in the world. She looked up at the mansion. She couldn’t complain. Her life was probably the simplest now it had been forever – no man; no friends to please; just her and her laptop against the world. Even her agent couldn’t get hold of her.
Seth was a welcome distraction; she couldn’t deny that. He wasn’t like the other guys she usually ended up friends with; he hadn’t wanted to drag her into bed. He was nice, funny, different, and very good looking. It was a wonder he wasn’t the prime catch among the local women, but then again, what did she know? He probably was and had a whole string of lovers.
Chapter Fifty
S tella groaned. She’d never slept in such an uncomfortable position. She turned and came face-to-face with Joe, who was inches from her face, flat out. The fact that they’d had to recline the front seats in his grandad’s Ford Focus and try to get some sleep obviously didn’t bother him. They’d come off the motorway late last night when the car had started making a strange hissing noise, but at least they were halfway there.
Joe had asked her if she wanted to find a hotel, but she hadn’t wanted to put him out or waste an extortionate amount of money on a room. As she lay there, her neck feeling stiff and an overwhelming urge to pee, she was now regretting that decision. They could have wakened up in a luxurious hotel room, had breakfast in bed, then made love until it was time to leave.
She made a promise to herself that as soon as she knew Maddy was okay, that Connor wasn’t anywhere near the county, and their friendship was still intact, she would book her and Joe into the closest hotel she could find and show him exactly how grateful she was.
‘Joe, are you awake?’ She knew he wasn’t, but she wanted to get going, and it might take him some time to get his bearings.
He opened one eye, smiled at her, and mouthed, ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ Then he cupped his hand over his mouth and frowned. ‘Oh God, does my breath smell? Sorry, Stella.’
His reaction tickled her, and she began to laugh. ‘No worse than what mine does, flower.’
Joe climbed out of the car, and Stella did the same. They both stood at the side of the road, stretching the best they could. She looked around; the lay-by was on the side of a bypass. Traffic wasn’t busy, but it was flowing. There were no public toilets, café, or petrol station anywhere in sight. She leant on the bonnet of the car.
‘I really need to pee, and I don’t know how long I can hold it for.’
‘Me, too. Look,’ he suggested, ‘why don’t you climb over that gate and go behind the bush? No one will see you. I’ll keep watch.’
Despite her reservations, she knew it was the most sensible option. Grabbing some tissues out of the glove compartment, she walked towards the gate and climbed to the top. With one leg dangling down, she heard Joe’s voice.
‘Check there’s no angry bull in there before you jump down.’
Horrified, she looked around. She couldn’t see anything but grass. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Then you’re good to go.’
She jump
ed down, glad she was wearing trainers and not her usual heels.
By the time she’d climbed back over the gate, Joe had the car bonnet up and was emptying the last of their bottled water into the radiator. ‘I think this should solve the hissing; the radiator was bone dry. We’ll pull over the next chance we can, to get some breakfast.’
‘Do you think the car will make it to Lake House?’
‘I hope so, but it’s a bit old and knackered. I suppose if it breaks down again, we can leave it and hitch a ride the rest of the way.’
‘Hitch, as in stick our thumbs up and hope a total stranger will stop to pick us up?’ Stella looked horrified. ‘And pray that we haven’t just got in a car with the Boston Strangler?’
‘Yep, pretty much that.’ Joe smiled. ‘There’s just one thing with that scenario, though. The Boston Strangler lived in Boston, but maybe we could get the Lakeside Strangler.’ He began to chuckle at his joke which made Stella roll her eyes then join in.
‘You’re crazy, but funny.’
He stared at her. ‘But you love me, yes?’
‘I do.’ Stella bowed her head so he wouldn’t see the redness which had crept up her neck and consumed her entire face.
He pulled her close, kissing her lips. ‘Good, because I’ve loved you for such a long time, you have no idea how it feels to hear you say it back to me. Come on, let’s try to see how far we can get. It’s like the road trip of fortune: will we make it, will we not?’
‘I think I’ll ring the local police and alert them to Connor’s possible whereabouts. It’s the sensible thing to do in case we break down.’
Joe gave her the thumbs up.
She dialled 101 and heard the voice telling her she was being connected to Cumbria Constabulary. After a few minutes, a man answered.
‘Oh, hello. I’m a bit concerned for my friend who’s stopping in a property called Lake House near Armboth.’ She spent the next ten minutes giving her and Maddy’s details to the call handler.
