by Ian Edwards
‘Right you lot, I want you gone from my pub. And don’t ever come back,’ Geoffrey spat at Harry, Tony and Alan.
‘Charming,’ Tony said.
‘Seems fair,’ Alan added.
In the car park, Alan climbed into Tony’s car. ‘That’s the last time I’m in charge of anything,’ he said.
‘Sarah will be very pleased to hear you say that,’ Harry replied, wiping bits of sandwich from Old Man Ernie’s head.
Chapter 32
Sarah turned the corner and saw Hander standing outside the theatre, talking on his phone. He nodded at her as she approached and ended his call.
‘Evening Miss Gayle, I’m glad you could come.’
Sarah returned the smile. ‘I’m intrigued,’ she told him. How’s Fingers?’
‘They’re keeping him in for observation. He’s got a suspected concussion, five stitches in his head and a couple of fractured ribs.’
Sarah winced. ‘Nasty.’
Hander sighed. ‘He’ll be off work for a while…I suppose I’ll need a new Health and Safety expert now.’
Sarah raised her eyebrows quizzically.
‘So what is it you have to show me?’ She asked.
Hander pushed open the door and gestured her inside.
*
Sarah perched on the end of the desk in the site office listening to the faint voices creeping up from the cellar.
‘Sounds busy down there,’ she said.
Hander passed her a mug of tea. ‘I’ve managed to get a couple of guys to stay on and do a night shift.’ He reached for his own tea and scooped in three sugars. ‘I can’t decide if they’re too stupid to be scared or need the money so much they’re prepared to take the risk.’
Sarah paused with her mug millimetres from her lips. ‘What do you mean scared?’
Hander sipped his tea. ‘What I’m going to tell you might seem ridiculous, and to be honest if somebody had told me this six months ago I probably wouldn’t have believed them either. But it’s all true.’
‘Go on.’
‘When we first started in the autumn it was fine, everything was going well. We managed to work in the lofts without disturbing the bats. The refurb of the auditorium went really well and was finished on time and the passageways were decorated. It was only when we moved into the cellar that we started to have problems.’
‘Like what?’ Sarah asked, finishing her tea and placing the mug on the table.
Hander pulled out a chair and slipped behind the desk. ‘You probably know what a mess the cellar was. It had been used to store junk and rubbish for years and it took us a few days to clear.’
‘And...’
‘Tools would go missing overnight. We would come back in the mornings and bags of rubbish would be emptied out all over the floor. Tins of paint would be turned over and splashed all over the walls.’
‘Sounds like vandals.’
Hander nodded. ‘That was what we thought too, but the more we cleared, the more bizarre it got. Even the lighting kept shorting out…’
‘It’s an old building,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘Surely you would have expected that?’
‘That’s what we thought. So we set up a generator and put in some temporary lighting, but even that wouldn’t work properly…’
Sarah nodded for him to continue.
‘Once we lost a whole day’s work when we couldn’t even get into the cellar.’
Sarah frowned. ‘Why?’
‘We couldn’t get the door open. The door down to the cellar I mean,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t locked, and in any case we had the key. It hadn’t been superglued or screwed into place. It was as if the door had expanded in the frame. It was jammed shut.’
‘The damp maybe? Sometimes on damp days my front door is really hard to shut.’
‘I’ll be honest that’s something that we considered too, but the next morning when we turned up, the door was wide open. If it had been swollen shut it wouldn’t have opened like that.’
‘I’ll give you that,’ Sarah nodded. ‘It’s very unusual.’
Hander reluctantly stood up. ‘Let me show you the cellar.’
*
Sarah followed Hander down the winding stairs. With each step the temperature seemed to drop. Her thin summer jacket offered no protection or warmth and she shivered as they negotiated the turn in the stairs and continued down.
‘I know,’ Hander turned around, noticing Sarah shiver. ‘It’s freezing down here and we’ve no idea why.’
‘It could be it feels colder here as we’ve had such a hot summer,’ Sarah suggested.
‘Maybe,’ Hander mumbled and continued down the stairs. He led Sarah into the cellar where five large portable halogen lamps had been positioned around the room, powered by a generator which gently hummed away in the corner.
The cellar itself appeared to be in a haphazard state of repair. The wall to Sarah’s left had been re-plastered, battening running its length. The wall to the right appeared to be partially re-plastered with boxes and an assortment of building accessories stacked against it. The wall directly in front of her was untouched. Exposed brickwork mixed with cracked and crumbling plaster. The floor was littered with several work benches, tool boxes and chalk lines indicating where the stud partition walls would be built.
Three men all wearing high–vis jackets and hard hats were manhandling a long plank so that it rested between two of the work benches, presumably Sarah thought, so that it could be sawn in two.
Hander passed Sarah a high–vis jacket and hard hat. ‘You’ll need this,’ he said before adding. ‘Health and safety.’
Sarah nodded and struggled into the oversized jacket while Hander called over one of the workmen.
‘This is Bodger. He’s our quality control man.’
‘Alright,’ Bodger nodded at Sarah.
Hander turned to Bodger. ‘Miss Gayle is from the Arts Council. I’ve been explaining about the problems we’ve had.’
Bodger raised an eyebrow. ‘Does she know about the thing?’
Sarah frowned and turned to Hander. ‘The thing?’
‘I was just about to show you.’
Hander walked over to the far side of the cellar where a large canvas tarpaulin was laid out on the floor.
‘We found this when we cleared stacks of old storage crates,’ Hander told her as he grabbed a corner of the tarpaulin and pulled it towards him. ‘Look.’
Sarah looked at the exposed floor. ‘It’s damp,’ she said unimpressed. ‘It’s a watermark,’ she added, crouching down for a closer look.
‘Stand round here,’ Hander said and stepped back to allow Sarah space. ‘What do you see now?’ He asked as she stood next to him.
‘Oh my God…’ Sarah muttered.
‘You see it?’
Sarah turned to Hander. ‘No, I’m just staggered that you’re claiming a damp spot has caused delays in the project.’
Hander sighed and dropped down on his haunches. ‘Look,’ he said and rubbed his hand over the mark. ‘It’s not damp.’ He showed Sarah his dry palm.’
Sarah dropped down next to Hander and rubbed her hand on the mark. ‘It’s slightly raised,’ she said. ‘That’s weird and …’ she looked at the clean palm of her hand. ‘You’re right that’s not damp.’
She stood up and took a step back, carefully studying the mark. Hander moved out of her way. ‘What do you think now?’ He asked.
‘That’s really weird, I’ll give you that.’ She looked at Hander who nodded. ‘From here do you know what it looks like?’’
‘Go on,’ Hander urged her. ‘Tell me.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘Well, it looks like the shadow of a person.’ She crouched down again and tapped the middle of the image. ‘This is the face, and these marks here, either side of the face they could be hands. It’s like its dancing. Or, no, maybe pushing something away?’
‘That’s what we thought,’ Hander added.
Sarah rubbed her hand over the floor again.
‘It’s really strange how it’s slightly raised up.’
‘Like a scab,’ Bodger added from over Hander’s shoulder.
She traced the outline of the image with her finger. ‘I know what you mean. It even feels like a scab.’
‘The really strange thing is,’ Hander paused, making sure that he had Sarah’s full attention. ‘That when we first found it, it wasn’t raised like this. It was just flat. The mark has gradually risen since we’ve been working here.’
Sarah stood up and wiped her hands on her jeans. ‘Whilst I agree with you that this is very weird, surely this isn’t enough to delay the building work?’
Hander nodded. ‘It wouldn’t be, but then things started getting out of hand. Seriously out of hand.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it…it feels like we were being driven out. The weird stuff just kept getting worse, more bizarre and in the end, dangerous.’
‘Fingers,’ Sarah muttered.
Hander nodded. ‘And a couple more before him. People have been getting hurt. It’s dangerous down here.’
‘And that’s why the work is delayed. People won’t stay.’
Hander nodded while Bodger sarcastically clapped his hands. ‘Well done,’ he mocked.
‘And you think it’s all down to this?’ Sarah looked down at the image and shivered.
‘There were some strange things that happened before we found this, but they got worse, much worse, after it was discovered.’
Sarah looked down again at the image. It was like a magic eye puzzle. The more she looked at it, the more it began to resemble a person.
‘Have you done anything about it?’ She asked.
Hander shrugged. ‘There’s not a lot we can do. We’ve tried scraping it off the ground, but that didn’t seem to make a difference.’
‘Before we start putting the new walls in we’ll screed over the floor so if nothing else no one will have to look at it,’ Bodger said joining them again.
Sarah shivered and pulled her jacket closed as the temperature dropped several degrees.
Hander started pulling the tarpaulin back across the floor. ‘You should go upstairs before you end up with frostbite.’
Sarah stepped back as the tarpaulin brushed past her feet and covered the image.
‘Hold on a second,’ she said and took her phone from her pocket. ‘I’m just going to take a picture of it.’
‘I wouldn’t bother. We’ve all tried to take one, but it never comes out.’
Sarah pulled the tarpaulin back, stepped side ways to create a better angle and took a couple of quick snaps with her phone.
Without warning a breeze blew around the cellar, lifting the tarpaulin and sweeping it across the floor into a corner.
‘It’s windy,’ Sarah said. ‘But we’re underground.’
Hander exchanged looks with Bodger. ‘It’s starting,’ he said. ‘Time to get upstairs.’
Bodger moved deceptively quickly for a man of his size, pushing his two colleagues towards the door and up the stairs.
‘Miss Gayle,’ Hander said. ‘You’ve seen enough. Time to get out of here.’
Sarah turned to Hander, realising that he had been shouting at her as the breeze had turned into a gale which seemed to be increasing in ferocity.
‘Yes, sorry,’ she shouted back as the tarpaulin caught a gust and blew into the air. ‘What’s going on? I’ve…I’ve never seen anything like this before.’
Hander leaned in closer. ‘Come on, let’s go. Upstairs now.’
‘This is crazy, it can’t be happening,’ she shouted back at him.
He grabbed hold of Sarah’s wrist and pulled her towards the door. Behind them the work benches came crashing to the ground as the wind began to howl. She turned to look back across the cellar. A tool box tipped over, spilling its contents all over the floor.
Bizarrely, through the howling wind and the crashing, Sarah heard her phone ringing. She instinctively stopped, slipping out of Hander’s grip she fumbled in her pocket for the phone.
‘Come on,’ Hander called out as he passed through the door way.
A halogen light came crashing down, shattering on impact with the ground. Sarah winced and, choosing to ignore her phone, she took a step towards the door as it slammed shut. She reached out and grabbed the handle, twisting it both ways. Despite her efforts it wouldn’t budge.
‘Come on,’ she screamed. ‘Open, you bastard.’ She frantically tugged at the handle as a gust of wind blew across her back. She screamed again, dimly aware that the wind was dying down. The tarpaulin gently sank to the ground and she turned to face the cellar. It was deathly still. She shivered as the temperature dropped lower.
Sarah backed up against the cellar door, reached behind and fumbled for the door handle again. Another light blinked off.
Instinct told her to get the door open as quickly as she could and get the hell out of there. However, something else, something almost primal, kept her staring into the cellar.
Another light went out, leaving the cellar illuminated by just two of the halogen lamps casting shadows onto the ceiling, leaving the corners shrouded in darkness.
Sarah became very aware that she was shaking, her teeth chattering, unsure whether it was the cold or fear. She squeezed her teeth together in an effort to calm her shakes.
The fourth light went out and with it the temperature dropped another couple of degrees. From the darkness she heard a sound, like someone sighing. A deep exhale of breath.
‘Who…who’s there?’ She said, her voice cracking with fear.
The fifth light went out, plunging the cellar into complete darkness. Sarah froze, listening. Another sigh from the darkness. Through trembling fingers she eased her phone out of her pocket, touching the screen to illuminate the space around her. As she faced the phone downwards she saw a small ball roll towards her, coming to a stop at her feet. Slowly she crouched down, picking up the ball. She could feel it was light and leathery.
Sarah pointed her phone up and caught a brief glimpse of a figure standing several feet away. A man of medium build with a black moustache. The figure disappeared in a flash. She spun round in panic, the wind howled again and the tarpaulin blew across the cellar. Her light picked out something moving towards her. As she looked up she caught the briefest glimpse of a plank as it flew toward her.
Chapter 33
Alan always made a point of avoiding coffee shops before lunchtime. They were invariably full of office types who reminded him too much of his previous job, and frazzled mothers meeting in groups while their two year olds screamed and threw tantrums and cake. That said, Harry had sounded quite insistent when he had called just after ten that morning. So despite his misgivings, he agreed to meet at a coffee shop close to the Arts Centre.
He pushed the door open and stepped into the coffee shop, the sound of a dozen conversations hit him at once. He stepped around abandoned childless buggies and joined the end of the queue plodding towards the counter.
He saw Harry sitting on his own at a table in the corner furthest from the door, nursing a large cup. Alan asked Harry if he wanted a refill using the universal hand to mouth gesture. Harry shook his head.
When Alan’s coffee eventually arrived, he wandered over to Harry’s table.
‘Morning Alan,’ Harry said, lifting a bulging carrier bag from a chair and placing it on the floor. ‘Thanks for coming over.’
Alan dropped into the chair. ‘No problem.’ He looked up as a harassed woman held a baby at arm’s length and pushed her way into the toilets. ‘I like to be reminded every now and again of the advantages of not having children. Anyway, what’s up?’ He asked as he poured a sachet of sugar into his coffee. ‘Old Man Ernie hasn’t got a dose of wood worm has he?’
Harry smiled. ‘No, it’s Sarah.’
Alan frowned. ‘Sarah’s got wood worm?’
‘No, no. Well, at least, I don’t think so.’
‘T
hat’s a relief. We were all worried. So, what is it then?’
Harry took a mouthful of coffee. ‘I wanted to speak to Sarah last night but she wasn’t at the gig…’
‘I know,’ Alan said nodding. ‘I was there.’
Harry continued. ‘So I thought I’d pop into the office this morning and see her, but she wasn’t there.’
Alan shrugged. ‘She was probably out on a site visit or something. Did you try and call her?’
Harry nodded. ‘Yes, but her phone was switched off.’
Alan took his phone out of his pocket and dialled Sarah’s number. He waited a few seconds, placing the phone on the table. ‘You’re right, it’s turned off.’
‘So you can see why I’m concerned?’
‘Not really. I mean, Sarah’s a big girl. She knows what she’s doing.’
Harry frowned. ‘She’s never missed a gig before, and she always picks up her phone. She’s always available…’
‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ Alan said, trying to reassure his friend. ‘She probably went out with Giles. A meal and a few drinks, back to his place, he tries out some of his new material and she slips into a coma,’ he grinned. ‘She’ll come to in an hour or so and have no memory of the date from hell.’
‘And the phone?’
‘She probably recorded Giles’s gags and it turned itself off in disgust,’ Alan paused. ‘Something like that.’
Harry nodded. ‘That is entirely possible!’
Alan smiled. ‘What did you want to talk to her about?’
‘I was thinking of introducing hypnotism into my act,’ Harry replied.
‘Really?’ Alan raised his eyebrows, Harry’s act was based on his poor attempts at ventriloquism and magic. He couldn’t begin to imagine what damage he could do to a hypnotised audience. He thought it probably wise that Sarah stay out of Harry’s way for a bit.
‘I picked up an old hypnotist’s watch at an antique fair and I’ve been watching guides on the internet, so I thought it would be quite a thing to introduce to my act.’
Alan’s phone buzzed in his pocket, saving him from replying. ‘It’s Rosie,’ he said as her name flashed up on the screen.
