by Eden Darry
“Not really. You’re just a bad one.” Fin jumped up and avoided Sadie’s swipe. On the way out of the kitchen, she heard Sadie call to her that the electrician was due this afternoon to fit the chandelier in the kitchen. Fin rolled her eyes. The bloody thing was monstrous, and Fin hated it. For some reason, Sadie, who was not generally given to such ornate tastes, loved it and insisted it was going up in the kitchen. Fin supposed it would look better there than it had in the old house.
* * *
Sadie reached into the shower cubicle and turned the spray on full. The room quickly steamed up and fogged the glass enclosure. She stepped inside and sighed as the hot water soothed her aching muscles. Both she and Fin worked hard today shifting and unpacking boxes, and she’d much rather be curling up on the sofa with Fin and a bottle of wine tonight instead of entertaining guests. Still, it would get Rachel off her back for a while.
She massaged shampoo into her hair as the bathroom door clicked open.
“Hello, darling,” she called out. “I found one of the wine boxes in the spare room. Will you pick a couple to go with dinner?”
Fin didn’t answer her. She must have left again. Sadie loved this shower. She could stay in here forever with the water beating down from the double showerheads. Heaven. It was probably the only thing she loved about the house, if she was honest. She was trying her best to like it because Fin was so in love, but there was something about it which made Sadie uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the incident on the first night when she got trapped in the spare room. Maybe that was colouring her view of the place. That must be it, because there was really nothing to dislike. The views were beautiful and the original features were lovely. All the same…there was just something about it. Something that didn’t feel quite right.
Sadie switched off the shower and opened the cubicle door. The room was filled with steam and she made a mental note to open the bedroom windows to air it out, or they were in danger of getting mouldy walls. Fin thrust a towel at her—or rather Fin’s arm appeared, holding the towel.
“Thanks, darling. Did you hear what I said about the wine?”
Sadie wrapped the towel around her and stepped out. Fin was gone again, which was strange because she didn’t see her leave.
Back in the bedroom, there was no sign of her either. Confused, Sadie dried off and dressed.
* * *
Fin lifted the pan lid and stirred the sauce. Usually she loved to cook, but tonight it was a hassle. If she’d had her way, she and Sadie would be curled up on the sofa with wine and their books. Still, she hadn’t seen Rose for a while and it would be good to meet her new girlfriend.
“That smells amazing.”
Fin turned and smiled at Sadie as she came in carrying two bottles of wine. “Good shower?”
“Umm, yes. Pity you shot downstairs so fast—you could have joined me.” Sadie smiled.
“What do you mean?” Fin replaced the lid on the pan and picked up the wine.
“Earlier, when you handed me my towel.” Sadie’s smile faltered.
“What are you going on about? I’ve been slaving over dinner for the last hour.” Fin laughed and opened one of the bottles to let it breathe. “I don’t know if Janey drinks red, so I’ll grab a bottle of white from upstairs.”
“Fin, wait.” Sadie touched her arm.
“Are you okay, babe? You look worried.”
“No, I…are you sure you didn’t come upstairs?”
Fin put the wine on the table and pulled Sadie into her arms. “Promise. Maybe it was one of the kids you heard?”
“Maybe.”
Fin kissed her and released her. “I need to grab that wine and then get changed.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
* * *
Sadie sat down at the kitchen table. She could have sworn Fin was in the bathroom, but she wouldn’t lie about it. And if Fin didn’t hand her the towel, then who did? It was so strange. She thought of Lance Sherry, and then dismissed the idea as stupid. If he’d managed to find out where they lived, why would he go to the trouble of breaking in just to hand her a towel? He wouldn’t.
Now that she thought about it, she didn’t actually see Fin pass her the towel—didn’t even see her arm. The towel appeared in front of her. Perhaps it was hanging up all along and she assumed Fin gave it to her because she thought she was in the bathroom.
Sadie sighed. Maybe she wasn’t all the way back to her old self, after all. First she was imagining gas leaks and now this. Sadie decided to talk to the psychologist next week about it.
Chapter Thirteen
Fin was drunk. She looked around the table and thought everyone else was too. The evening had turned out to be a lot of fun. Rose’s girlfriend Janey was lovely. She was also cute, exactly Rose’s type. She was tall with short red hair and warm brown eyes and Fin thought Rose seemed very happy with her—well, if the soppy grin pasted on her face was anything to go by.
Rachel was being her usual self. She’d been agitated when she first got here because she’d driven past the turn-off to the house several times without seeing it. Fin had to go out and wave her in.
Fin had burst out laughing, though, when Rachel walked into the kitchen, clocked the light fitting, and said to Sadie, “I was hoping you got rid of that terrible thing. Honestly, Sadie, I sometimes wonder if you’re channelling Liberace.”
That led on to a discussion of Janey’s hobby. Ghost hunting. She told them she often did night-time tours of supposedly haunted houses. Fin tried not to roll her eyes, but the whole thing was bollocks. She’d watched a haunted house thing on the TV once. They’d spent the entire night filming orbs which were really just specks of dust caught in the light from the cameras.
“How do you know whether they’re haunted?” Sadie asked, and Fin realized she’d zoned out.
“Usually there’s previous reports of sightings or strange things going on.”
“Then you all hurry down there and…what exactly?” Rachel asked.
“We have equipment to test for paranormal activity.”
“You’re on board with this?” Rachel sloshed her wine glass in Rose’s direction. “Of course you are.”
“Rachel,” Sadie warned.
“I’m just asking. Fin, do you believe in all this?”
Fin wasn’t sure how to answer. She didn’t want to be rude to Janey and say it was all crap.
“Fin doesn’t believe in anything,” Rose piped up. “Do you, Fin? Even when something unexplainable and totally creepy happens.”
Great. Rose was going to bring that up. Fin felt Rachel’s keen eyes land on her.
“Explain, Rose,” she slurred.
“I mustn’t. Fin doesn’t like to talk about it.”
Fin poured herself more wine. “Because it was a stupid game that didn’t mean anything.”
“Stop talking in riddles,” Rachel demanded. “Sadie, do you know what they’re talking about?”
“No.” Sadie shook her head. “But I’m intrigued.”
“It was years ago. At a party,” Fin said.
“How about I tell it? You won’t give it the right gravitas.” Rose reached over and drank from Fin’s glass.
“You mean I won’t embellish.”
Rose laughed and kicked her under the table. She leaned forward and spoke to the rest of them. “We were about fifteen years old. I didn’t know Fin that well, but we used to go to some of the same parties. So, one night, most people had gone home. There were about five of us left. Julie Martin, who I had a big crush on by the way, wanted to play a game.”
“Julie Martin? Seriously?” Fin butted in.
“Shut up, Fin. Anyway, her older sister played it at another party and said it really worked, so we decided to give it a go. What you do is, two of you each hold two pens or whatever—sticks are fine. You touch each other’s pens at the tips to make sort of train tracks. Then, you say—”
“Spirits, are you the
re, are you there? Spirits, are you there?” Fin said in a spooky voice and earned herself a dirty look from Rose. At least Sadie laughed.
“If the pens move, it means they are. Then you ask them questions. They go inwards for yes and outwards for no.”
“So what happened when you played?” Rachel was engrossed in this story, and Fin felt sorry for her that it was going to be such a let-down.
“Nothing bloody happened,” Fin said.
“A picture flew across the room and smashed the TV. Fin, you are such a party pooper,” Rose complained.
“A picture fell off the TV and smashed,” Fin corrected her.
“I still think it was the spirits.” Though Rose could see she’d lost the room, she shot Fin another dirty look.
“I want to play. Sadie, do you have any pens?” Rachel asked.
“For God’s sake, Rachel,” Fin said. “It’s nonsense—no offence, Janey.”
Janey smiled. “None taken.”
“Oh, come on. Let’s play. It’ll be fun,” Rachel said.
Fin looked over at Sadie, who seemed worried. She reached over and squeezed her hand. “Okay, babe?”
Sadie nodded. “Fin’s right. It’s silly.”
“Fine. Rose, you’ll play with me? The rest of you can watch.”
“Sure,” Rose said.
Fin sighed and got up to find them pens.
* * *
“Let’s get some mood lighting in here. Is there a dimmer for the lights?” Rachel asked.
Sadie stood up and adjusted the switch, so the kitchen was bathed in long shadows. She shivered, then felt silly. It was a stupid child’s game, and it didn’t mean anything, but it made her nervous. She hadn’t told anyone about her experience in the bathroom and put it down to still not quite being herself. This mini séance wasn’t helping matters.
“Gather round, children,” Rachel said as she took her position opposite Rose, and they touched the tips of their brightly coloured pens. Fin got them from the children’s craft box and Sadie almost asked her not to. She didn’t want them to be tainted by whatever this was. She kept quiet though and was looking at Rachel and Rose, though she was beginning to wish she hadn’t. This didn’t feel right. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt dread slowly building.
“Right, what is it we say?” Rachel asked Rose.
“Spirits, are you there, are you there? Spirits, are you there?”
Before they could say it again together, the pens shot inwards. Rachel laughed, delighted. Sadie glanced across at Janey who wasn’t smiling at all. She looked worried.
“Was that you?” Rose asked Rachel.
Rachel shook her head. “Must be the spirits,” she mocked. “Ask it a question.”
“Are you a good ghost?” Rose asked.
The pens moved outwards. Rachel laughed again. “It is you, Rose. Stop it!”
Sadie saw Rose wasn’t smiling any more, and the dread gave way to fear.
“It isn’t me. Rachel, if it’s you, stop, because it’s not funny,” Rose said.
“I’m not doing it. Gosh, it must be the ghouls!” Rachel was still finding it all hilarious. She didn’t notice everyone else had stopped smiling.
“Maybe we should stop,” Fin said, glancing at Sadie.
Sadie nodded. “I agree.”
“Me too,” Janey chipped in.
“You’re all so boring.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Come on, one more question and then we can stop.”
The others nodded.
Rachel asked in a dramatic voice, “Do you mean us harm?”
The lights overhead flickered. The pens slowly moved inwards. Sadie watched in horror. “Rachel, this isn’t funny,” she whispered.
Upstairs, a door slammed and everyone jumped. Rose dropped the pens as if they were on fire and got up quickly from her seat. The lights went out just as something touched Sadie’s shoulder, and she screamed.
* * *
“Sadie, for Christ’s sake, it’s me,” Fin snapped.
She felt Sadie’s shoulders sag with relief and regretted being short tempered. She turned her around and held her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Well, this is a story I’ll be telling on Monday,” Rachel said. She used her phone’s torch to light the room. “Got any candles?”
Fin rolled her eyes. “It’s probably the circuit breakers. I’ll go and flick them back on.”
“I’ll help,” said Janey.
Fin led the way to the basement. “I’m sorry about Rachel. She can be a brat sometimes.”
Janey chuckled. “She’s okay. Fin, can I ask a question?”
“Sure.” Fin found the switch and flicked it. The lights on the ground floor came back on and she heard Rachel whoop from the other room.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but has anything else strange happened since you moved in?”
Fin bristled. “No.”
“If you like, I could bring some friends—”
“Your ghost hunter friends?”
“Yes. We could set up our equipment and see if there’s anything here.”
“I don’t think so. Look, I know you’re interested in hauntings, but it’s not a good idea. I don’t want the kids scared—or Sadie. She’s been through enough.”
Janey’s intelligent eyes scanned her and Fin was uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. “Okay. If you change your mind, let me know. What just happened is worrying.”
“Worrying? It was a stupid game. Rachel was probably moving the pens and the electrics in this place are dodgy.”
Janey nodded and Fin could see she wasn’t convinced. “I feel like there’s something here. I don’t think it’s good.”
Fin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She liked Janey, but she didn’t have the patience for this spooky nonsense. “Let’s get back to the others. I think there’s another bottle of wine somewhere.”
Janey seemed like she wanted to say more but thought better of it. She nodded and followed Fin back into the kitchen.
Chapter Fourteen
Fin was in the basement, sorting through the boxes she’d found the other day. Sadie had gone upstairs to tackle the spare room. It seemed like there was no end to this unpacking and sorting. Fin still hadn’t gotten a chance to go and inspect the tunnel. If it wasn’t the kids demanding her time, it was Sadie.
Fin sighed and sat back on her haunches. That wasn’t fair. Of course they wanted her time—they were her family, her responsibility. Lately, though, she felt as if everything fell on her shoulders. Before Sadie’s attack, Fin handled the kids and all the house stuff. It made sense, because Sadie worked longer hours and her job paid more. Since she’d quit, it seemed as though Fin was still carrying the heavier load, so that now, when all she wanted was a few hours to herself to look at the tunnel, she was down here sorting through dusty old boxes—
Hang on, this was interesting. Fin picked up a leather-bound book of some kind. She turned it over in her hands, then opened it. The pages were yellowed with age, and she traced one finger over the elegant cursive script. Her finger tingled.
She skimmed over it, realizing it was some sort of journal. The date at the top read 16th July 1888. Fin flicked through the pages from back to front and saw on the inside page the name Nathaniel Cushion was written in the same elegant hand which filled the journal.
Fin was excited. This must have belonged to the man who built the house. She put it to one side to read later.
With renewed energy, Fin started to sort through the other items in the box: photos, documents, another leather-bound book which looked like a ledger rather than a journal. Near the bottom was a bundle of papers tied together. She briefly read the top one. Boring. Looked like letters from an insurance company. Perhaps Nathaniel Cushion had been some kind of insurance agent. The internet should be able to help her find out.
She was tempted to stay longer and start reading everything in the box, but she needed to get started on work. There were a couple of pieces
she had to finish in a few weeks. She sighed and stood up.
* * *
Fin’s stomach dropped when she came out of her workshop and saw the unmarked police car pull up. She knew it was police because DC Helen Lyle was driving. The officer got out of the car, and Fin walked over to meet her.
“Have you caught him?”
The look on Helen Lyle’s face said it all. “I’m sorry, no. Can we go inside and talk?”
Fin nodded. “The kids are home. I’ll put a film on for them in the living room while we talk.” Fin leaned the spade against the wall outside.
Helen Lyle followed Fin inside and remarked how nice the house was. Fin couldn’t summon any pride and mumbled thanks. She went upstairs to where Sadie was sitting cross-legged on the floor, piles of paper around her. She looked up and smiled when she saw Fin observing her. The smile left her face when Fin didn’t return it.
“Darling, what’s wrong?”
“Helen Lyle is downstairs. She’s come to talk to us,” Fin said.
“Have they caught him?”
Fin’s heart hurt at the hope in her eyes. “She says not. Where are the kids?”
“Lucy’s playing monster with her new imaginary friend, and Liam’s in his room.”
“Let’s put a film on for them while we talk.”
Sadie nodded and stood. Fin held out her hand and she took it. It was cold in Fin’s and trembled a little.
Downstairs, once the kids were sitting in front of the TV, Fin made tea, then sat with the other women at the table.
“We believe Lance Sherry is back in the country.”
“I wasn’t aware he’d left,” Fin said.
Sadie’s hands were clutched tightly around her mug. “How do you know he’s back?”
“We picked up a friend of his last night on something unrelated. It came up that he’d lent Lance his car. We did an ANPR search—”
“That’s a number plate recognition search,” Sadie told Fin.
