2.0 - What Lies Below

by Helen Phifer

Glenys shivered. ‘It’s nippy. Are you coming upstairs?’

  ‘No, I better get back. I’ve left the pub unlocked.’

  ‘What do you mean there’s more to it?’ she asked.

  ‘She left London and a violent ex-boyfriend behind, so what if it’s him? What if he’s followed her and is trying to scare her?’

  Glenys clutched the cards in her fingers tight. ‘It might explain this awful spread of cards,’ she mused. ‘You need to ask her about it tomorrow. See if she thinks it’s a possibility, and maybe she should tell the police so they’re forewarned if something happens and she has to ring them for help.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a good idea, but it’s a bit awkward. Can you not ask her?’

  Glenys chuckled. ‘Seth, you’re such a wimp at times. But yes, I suppose I can. I need to speak to her about these cards and warn her, so I’ll ask her if there’s a possibility this ex could be here. It’s a huge house. He could be hiding out in there trying to scare her and she’d never know.’

  Seth sighed. ‘That’s a very reassuring thought to go to bed on. As if I wasn’t having trouble enough sleeping. Thanks for that, Glenys.’

  ‘Sorry, just thinking out loud.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s fine. We checked it from top to bottom the other day. The only living person inside there is Maddy, I’m positive of that.’

  ‘What if it’s not a living person then? What if it’s a ghost?’

  Seth frowned. ‘Quit while you’re ahead, Glenys. I wanted at least a couple of hours sleep. Do you think I should go back and check on her?’

  ‘In the morning, yes. If you turn up now, you’ll scare the shit out of her, like you just did me. In all honesty, I don’t think her ex is likely to be stalking around the village or Lake House. You know what this lot are like; they don’t miss a trick. Someone would have mentioned some Londoner snooping around asking questions.’

  ‘You’re right. What a pair of regular Miss Marples we are. Night, Glenys. Glad everything’s okay.’

  ‘Thanks. Night, Seth. Tomorrow we’ll go and see Maddy, talk some sense into her, and get her to stop at the pub for a couple of nights so we can all get some sleep.’ She winked at him, then turned to lock the shop door.

  She heard his footsteps as he turned and began to walk back along the cobbled street towards the pub. Damn, he was a good-looking bloke and a pretty decent one as well. They were so hard to find in such a small community.

  It was nice to know that someone in the village cared about her and Alfie, even if there wasn’t a chance of them ever being more than friends.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  H e wondered if he should go and move the body now. The only problem was that when he’d looked out of the window earlier, it seemed as if half of the village was awake.

  It would take him fifteen minutes to get to the summer house, then he had to wrap the body up well and get it down to the lake before it got too light. He stood up and stared out of the window again. It was still dark, but not as black as before, which meant he didn’t have enough time.

  He was in a bit of a conundrum: he didn’t have the time to dispose of the body, yet he couldn’t leave it there much longer. He was taking a huge risk. Maybe he should get rid of the car first. That would buy him a little more time. If he didn’t, someone was bound to notice the car sooner rather than later.

  He could drive it to Keswick, leave it in the main car park, then walk back. It was at least five miles, but that didn’t bother him. He was used to walking and scrambling around the hills, and he would feel much better knowing that car wasn’t there. It was like a beacon and it could be his downfall, so he needed to get rid of it.

  Dressing all in black, he pulled on his walking boots and took the keys from the bottom of the wood basket where he’d hidden them. Tugging on a black beanie hat, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and smiled; he looked as if he’d joined the SAS and was about to go out on a top-secret mission. To be fair, he was on a mission – it just wasn’t a government one. Although, it was definitely a classified one.

  He stepped outside and locked his door. He liked the village at this time of night when most people were sleeping. It was a beautiful place, the air was always fresh, the grass green, and the lake icy cold.

  He walked briskly towards the car park at the rear of the pub, checking there was no one around before he approached the car. No point in making awkward conversations for himself just yet; it would be better if he could drive it away with minimal fuss. He got in the car and started the engine, making sure to drive slowly out of the village to avoid attracting attention.

  He drove as casually as a killer with a victim’s stolen car could drive and doubted his pulse had raised a single beat. He was methodical and cautious, which was why up until now no one had even figured out that the number of missing walkers had increased this year. This made him happy; he liked a challenge, and this would definitely count as one.

  This one had been was the most unplanned, unorganised killing that he’d carried out, yet it wouldn’t happen again. He just needed to clean up the mess he’d made for himself, without getting caught. If he was arrested, he doubted he could cope with being locked up twenty-four hours a day. He’d always lived a life of freedom, following his own rules, doing his own thing, and there was no doubt he would struggle if he was put into confinement.

  Then there was the media circus, if he was discovered. He had always been shy, worked hard, did his own thing; he’d never liked attention. If it came out what he’d been doing, there would be a news explosion and the village would be turned into a hive of camera crews and reporters. Everything would be turned upside down.

  But the worst part would be that he wouldn’t be able to visit the bodies that lay below the lake, to watch them swaying gently in the underwater current. Who would watch over them if he was incarcerated? Anything could happen. They might get loose, drift off, and surface. That would be terrible! At the moment, they were at peace, and he didn’t want them disturbed.

  The fresh water preserved them like nothing else could, and when he got them in the water not long after death, they looked as if they were perfect.

  He wasn’t sure what the body in the summerhouse was going to look like, because it was a mess and had possibly lain too long. In fact, it would ruin his others.

  That thought made up his mind. Tonight, he would have to bury it on the fell.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  M addy sat on her bed, her knees tucked under her chin, staring at the door. She’d dragged the heavy chest of drawers in front of it to give her time to call for help if anyone tried to get in. Call who exactly? Your phone only works every other day if it feels like it.

  She shivered and tugged the duvet around her. How much was she regretting not going back to the pub with Seth now? She tutted in disgust at herself. It was all very well being brave and putting on a tough front in public, but it was quite a different matter in the middle of the night inside this huge house. She kept listening for any telltale noises that there was an intruder inside, creeping around.

  Surely, there was no way Connor could know she was here, though? And even if he’d managed to get Stella to tell him, how would he get here? He’d be in a car; he wasn’t the outdoor type like Seth. He wouldn’t be able to scale fells and mountains, or sail over a huge lake to find the exact house that she was living in. This wasn’t some Hollywood movie; she wasn’t Julia Roberts and hadn’t had to fake her own death to get away from him.

  So, what is going on then? Is the house haunted? She didn’t know, and who was she to say that it wasn’t? She really didn’t know enough about the paranormal to rule it out, though. She hadn’t ever thought about ghosts and spooks, and there certainly hadn’t been any room for any when she was growing up in her gran’s cramped flat.

  It was different here. The house was full of empty rooms and memories, with enough space for several ghosts to wander the hallways and corridors without even bumping into each other.r />
  As she sat chewing on her thumbnail, she tried to clear her mind of thoughts of anything supernatural. But she was struggling. Her blood felt as if it was turning to iced slush as it was being pumped around her body. That dream the other night had felt so real. Was the bride who’d been pulled from the lake trying to tell her something? It was pretty corny, though. Did this stuff happen in real life? And where had the wedding dress come from? She didn’t think that was down to paranormal activity.

  Her thoughts brought her back to the present and the possibility that someone was trying to scare the crap out of her. Why, though? She didn’t know anyone here well enough to have upset them. She’d got friendly with Seth…and would like to get even friendlier. Glenys seemed lovely, even if they’d got off to a rough start. And then there was Alfie. He was a bit slower than other boys his age but seemed innocent and not the type to try to scare her to death when he knew she was living here on her own. What would be the point?

  She climbed off the bed and grabbed her notebook and pen off the desk. It was like some complicated book plot, so she should be able to suss it out. This is what she loved doing. Her gran had always said she should have joined the police force and become a detective, but she hadn’t wanted to work her way through the ranks or deal with pesky criminals. Instead, she’d put her heart and soul into becoming a crime writer which, even if she said so herself, she was pretty good at. Or she had been, until it came down to writing this sequel, and then every fear she’d known, plus more, had hit her like a tram with no brakes on Blackpool prom.

  She began to scribble her list of names down.

  Seth – good guy, I like him a lot and I think he likes me. Just lost his dad, so could be a little mentally unstable, but I don’t think so and not enough to try to scare me away. He wouldn’t have spent hours helping me search the house the other day if he knew it had been him. And what would he get out of scaring me away? It doesn’t make any sense.

  Glenys – bit angry, bit strange, nice once you get to know her. Lives on her own with Alfie and is busy running the shop, so wouldn’t really have time to dunk a wedding dress in the lake and drape it on the front steps for effect. I can’t see her doing it either.

  Alfie – hangs around a lot, sneaks up on me – a lot. Knows more than I’d give him credit for, has a strange thing about the lake and the people who live in it. God knows who or what this is, or if it has any relevance, but who are the lake people? Maybe it’s them! Get a grip, Maddy, next you’ll be saying it’s aliens from out of space. What are lake people, anyway? Better ask him to explain what he means to you next time he scares you half to death.

  Connor – control freak, abusive ex, will be furious I walked out on him. Sneaky and stalkerish, or I could imagine him being a stalker. He would get a thrill out of scaring me to death, much more than any of the others who have no particular reason to even want to waste their time or effort trying to scare me.

  She knew in her heart everything pointed towards Connor, but where was he and how had he got here? If she could speak to Stella, she’d be able to confirm whether he’d managed to find out where she was. But it was far too late to even try to call her.

  Maddy typed out a text message and sent it, hoping that for once the signal was just strong enough to allow it to get through. She really missed her friend and decided that in the morning her priority was to go to the village and try to make contact with Stella. Then she would know whether to report the strange incidents to the police.

  As a wave of tiredness washed over her, she placed the notebook and pen on the floor, lay back and closed her eyes. She felt herself begin to drift off. A part of her was battling to stay awake and listen, but exhaustion won, and she slipped into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  S tella snuggled up to Joe. The car had broken down again in a magnificent cloud of steam and the AA had come and towed it to a garage in Kendal, leaving them with no choice but to book a hotel room for the night. The mechanic had said he’d fix the car first thing in the morning so they could be on their way by lunchtime, which was fine by her.

  She’d had the longest, hottest shower of her life when they’d checked in. Smothering herself in the complimentary lemon and rosemary scented body lotion, she’d had to sit on the chair waiting for it to soak in while it was Joe’s turn. He’d come out of the shower with the smallest towel known to man wrapped around his waist, and she’d had to stop herself from lunging at him. He’d crossed towards her and she’d stood, falling into his open arms.

  The pair of them spent the next hour kissing and making love. Still basking in a happy, warm glow, Joe had whispered, ‘I love you, Stella, but I need food. A man can’t survive off hot sex alone.’

  The comment had cracked her up and she’d doubled over laughing, then they’d ordered room service which they ate in silence. Joe had lain on the bed watching some crappy documentary about catching a killer, and she’d cuddled up next to him. They must have drifted off at some point, because Stella had wakened up to the television crackling because the signal had been lost.

  Needing the loo, she crept from the bed, trying not to wake him. She still couldn’t believe how, after everything, she’d found pretty much the perfect man. In the bathroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror; her face was a swollen, bruised mess. The young girl behind the reception desk had given her a sympathetic look when they’d checked in, then glared at Joe in disgust.

  Stella had wanted to tell her not to be so presumptuous, but Joe had softly squeezed her hand as a gentle warning. She supposed she did look as if he’d battered her, bless him. But Stella was sure he didn’t have a violent bone in his body. He was the sweetest, kindest man she’d ever met.

  Unlike Connor. Just thinking his name made her shudder. She needed to get to Maddy tomorrow, no matter what, and tell her what a complete mess she’d made. If she had to walk or hitchhike the rest of the way to Lake House, she would, because she needed to make things right. This sinking feeling of despair inside her stomach was taking away what should be the happiest time of her life.

  As she climbed back into the bed, Joe murmured in his sleep and she snuggled close to him, his body heat offering her some comfort. She needed to warm up the block of ice which had settled inside the pit of her stomach, freezing her to the core. She couldn’t bear to think of Maddy being stranded, alone, in need of help in the middle of nowhere, in a place where Stella had sent her like an innocent lamb to be slaughtered.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the images that were filling her mind, but all she could see was that empty, bleak house and the fresh, red blood that splattered the walls. The blood that Connor had spilt without a second thought.

  Enough, Stella, she told herself angrily. Christ, maybe you should offer to write Maddy’s next book. Your imagination is even worse than hers and that’s saying something. Tomorrow you will find her knee-deep in sheets of paper, empty coffee mugs, and chocolate bar wrappers. She’ll be engrossed in her writing and won’t even know what you’re talking about. Everything is going to be fine. You’re fine, Maddy’s fine – get some sleep.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  M addy woke with a start. She could hear loud knocking echoing throughout the house. Jumping out of bed, she rushed to the windows, pressing her face against the glass, and let out a squeal of relief to see Glenys standing on the drive waving up at her.

  Dragging the chest of drawers away from the door, she threw it open and ran down in her pyjamas.

  When she opened the front door, Glenys took one look at her and enquired, ‘Bad night?’

  Maddy laughed, nodded, then laughed even louder. ‘You could say that. What do I owe the pleasure at this time in the morning?’

  ‘I was worried about you. And it’s almost eleven; it’s practically dinnertime.’

  Maddy was shocked. ‘No way.’

  ‘Yes, way. So, you’re okay then? I had no reason to be worried? Are you on your own?’

&nb
sp; Maddy liked her perceptiveness. ‘I’m okay, but there’s some stuff going on that I can’t explain. And yes, I’m definitely on my own.’

  She walked towards the kitchen with Glenys following behind her.

  ‘Wowee, this is some fucking house. It’s amazing, I love it. Maddy, you didn’t have to be on your own. I know Seth offered you a room at the pub.’

  Maddy frowned. Just how much did Seth share with Glenys? Considering they weren’t in a relationship, they seemed to spend an awful lot of time together.

  ‘When did he tell you that?’

  ‘About three this morning.’

  Maddy turned to look at her, doing her best not to snap…and failing. ‘Do you two often have conversations about other people in the middle of the night?’ Realising she was standing with her arms crossed and being defensive, she quickly uncrossed them.

  ‘Hey, I came here to see if you were okay,’ Glenys told her calmly. ‘Seth was worried about you. I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about you, and he saw my shop light on and came to check everything was okay. That’s it. We’re friends and nothing else, so you don’t have to get all protective over your man. Bloody hell, you’re a bit feisty this morning.’

  Glenys walked past her, picked up the kettle, and took it over to the kitchen sink where she ran the tap and began to fill it with water. Switching it on, she began opening cupboard doors, looking for the one that contained the ingredients to make a coffee.

  Maddy dragged a chair out from underneath the table and sat down. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and took some deep breaths to calm herself down. She had no idea what was wrong with her; she didn’t normally feel so exhausted.

  Glenys made two mugs of coffee, opened the fridge door, and sniffed the milk before pouring it into the cups, stirring them briskly and handing one to Maddy. She sat down opposite her.

  ‘Sorry and thank you,’ Maddy began. ‘I guess I’m tired and snappy. I think things are getting to me and I’m too stubborn to admit there might be a teeny problem with the house or me. Or the house and me.’