Kim screwed her eyes shut to end the thrill of disgust, the vile scenario and its implications. Her body sagged. The potent sexual energy between her legs subsided. She drowned in a sea of shame. Her nerves quivered and a dull uneasiness came over her. She drew her knees to her chest to protect herself. A faint, indefinable noise developed into the murmur of a stream. She clapped her hands over her ears and peered into the garden, its colours fading in the gathering dusk. A sinister, indistinct shape glided slowly towards her and curled into a human form. Her grasp on reality was challenged by the sharp claws of fear. Dishevelled grey hair ran from a bony head and fused with the contours of a sallow face oozing profound malevolence. Sunken eyes burned with hatred. Words formed on cracked lips. A deep voice filled the entire room amidst the sound of pebbles falling into water. ‘You can never be free from the dragon,’ it said. ‘There is no place to run to … Beware the candyman.’
Kim’s hands trembled. A fierce heat rose to the surface of her skin. She burst into flames, ran into the hallway and screamed.
Lauren twisted the key, pushed the door open and rushed inside. She clamped her hands down on Kim’s shoulders. ‘Shhh. You’ll be all right … Look at me, Kim. Take deep breaths. Try to relax. You are safe now.’
They stood in the hallway, knitted together by Kim’s distress and Lauren’s embrace.
Chapter Fourteen
‘How long is this going on for?’ Stuart said, his voice raised.
Lauren brushed her hair. She cast him a glance. ‘Only for another day or two.’
‘I have an eighty-mile drive ahead of me and I have to drop Kim off in the town centre.’
‘It will take five minutes. No longer.’
Stuart yanked the hairbrush out of her hand. She scowled.
‘Listen to me,’ he said. ‘It can take fifteen minutes to reach the town centre. The traffic’s busy this time of the day.’
‘I want to make sure she arrives safely at the hotel. You heard her screams last night. You said yourself she was terrified.’
‘Yes, I did. Kim said something appeared in front of her. Something. What are we to believe? Is she doing this for attention, or what?’
‘I don’t think so. She’d have to be a brilliant actress to act the way she did. You didn’t see the state she was in. I could even feel her heart pounding.’
‘Have you noticed, it’s always at the rear of her house where there’s a problem? Someone looking over the fence, spying on her; being naked in the garden; and yesterday a black, shapeless form rises from the soil.’
‘She didn’t say it came out of the soil.’
‘It wasn’t there in the first place … I’m going to be late.’
‘You’ve packed your sandwiches and a drink?’
‘Yep. We’ve run out of coronation chicken. I used the ham instead.’
‘No problem. Drive carefully. By the way, have you seen my mobile?’
‘No, and I’m not ringing for you to locate it. Final. See you tonight.’ He landed her a kiss, one she hoped would have lasted longer.
‘Don’t press her, Stuart. She’s had a hard time.’
He quickly walked to the car and waited. Kim came out of her house. ‘I’ll be there in a sec.’ She shrugged into a jacket and joined him. Stuart fired the engine and commenced the journey. She maintained a defiant silence. Stuart was frustrated. The smell of her cheap perfume didn’t help either. As he predicted, the roads were busy, the queues lengthy.
Time for questions.
‘So, what happened last night?’ he asked
‘Didn’t Lauren tell you?’
‘Scant details, Kim. I’m interested in your story.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me. You’re a qualified man.’
‘I am. We haven’t got all day. What did you see?’
‘I heard Smarty barking.’
‘We didn’t hear any barking.’
‘I’m certain he did. He was barking near the window. I saw a swirling mist outside …’
Stuart tapped the steering wheel, flashed a glance. ‘Carry on.’
‘No, I can’t. The whole experience was horrible. I’ll walk to the hotel and you won’t be late. Okay?’
‘There’s no need to … Listen, I may have an explanation for what you saw.’
‘I can’t remember everything.’
‘You can if you concentrate.’
Exasperation furrowed her brow. ‘The mist formed into an old woman with grey hair. I had the impression it was my mum, and she spoke to me.’
‘Your mother died recently.’
‘So I was told.’
‘Are you saying someone was making it up?’
‘No. I didn’t attend the funeral but I know for certain she’s dead. The ghost said I couldn’t escape the dragon, and to beware of the candyman.’
‘You heard a voice coming from outside?’
‘The voice was everywhere. You think I’m lying.’
‘Have you heard of Charles Bonnet syndrome?’
‘No.’
‘Some people, who are blind or partially sighted, see things that don’t exist, like animals, shapes, patterns, buildings and vehicles. What they see are merely illusions. The syndrome is sometimes referred to as phantom vision.’
‘My eyesight is perfect, otherwise I’d be wearing glasses.’
‘I’m giving you a possible explanation. If sight cells in the brain stop receiving information, the cells compensate and create images. You could have a similar malfunction brought on by stress.’
‘I didn’t imagine it, and there’s nothing wrong with my brain. I’m not mad, and I’m not suffering from anything remotely like Charles, whatever his name is, syndrome.’
‘Bonnet is the name … What’s the significance of the candyman?’
‘I’ve told you all I want to.’
‘I’m trying to understand what’s going on. Lauren will ask me.’
Kim folded her arms, fell quiet until they reached High Street. Stuart drove slowly onto the kerb, yanked the handbrake into position. Kim unfastened the seat belt and kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll have a proper kiss one day if you’re up for it … Candyman is a film I watched when I was a kid. It scared me so much I couldn’t look in a mirror for weeks. If you look in a mirror and say his name five times, he appears behind you. The apparition told me to beware of him. He’s coming after me. Thanks for the lift.’
***
Jay stood by the flower bed, drank sugarless tea from a plastic cup and bit into his chunky sausage barm cake.
The same groups of students stood in the same spots to discuss the joys and disappointments of youth. Some of the younger students played football with a tennis ball. They darted across the smooth ground, shirt tails flapping over grey trousers. Jay referred to them as the ‘headless chicken mob.’ Happy school memories were clear in his mind, days when he himself indulged in break-time games. He never dreamed he would be standing in front of a whiteboard, sharing his knowledge, encouraging his students to study hard with a view to acquiring permanent employment.
During his teenage years his dad told him decent jobs were difficult to come by. ‘Listen here, lad,’ he would begin. ‘There’s only three jobs you’re guaranteed lifelong work. They are butcher, barber and undertaker.’ Jay chuckled every time he recalled his advice and wished he had lived long enough to see him receive his first-class honours degree.
He paced back and forth, paused to answer his phone. ‘Kayla, how good of you to call me at long last.’
‘I need to speak to you, dad.’
‘I’m on duty. What do you want?’
‘I’m standing over by the school entrance. I need to see you.’
‘This is damned inconvenient. Hang on, I’ll be there in a minute.’
Jay made his way through the hurly-burly of the playground. Kayla leaned against the railings, her gaze fixed keenly on her displeased father. A group of students stared at the heavily mascaraed young woman, eager to learn why she w
as there.
‘Come on, dad, get a move on,’ she said, oblivious to the awkward situation she had created.
‘Not so loud, Kayla. I haven’t seen you for ages and you turn up at work.’
‘Aren’t you happy to see me?’
‘Yes, but you could have left it till later in the day. You know where I live. What do you want from me?’
‘I need some money.’ A look of vexation chased across his features. ‘Don’t be so annoyed. When did I last ask you for money?’
‘How much do you need?’
‘Make it fifty.’
Jay could sense watchful eyes and ears penetrating their conversation. He plucked the money from his wallet and slapped it on her open hand.
‘Thanks.’ She stuffed the cash in her jacket pocket. Jay was afraid to ask what she wanted the money for. She turned and walked away, leaving behind a snatch of perfume that reminded him of the time she lived with him.
Bittersweet.
***
A clammy heat rose from her chest and arms to her face. Hoovering bedrooms and carpets was hot work. She made a quick job of the next room, checked all was in order. Only one more room to attend to. She dragged the hoover into the corridor, picked up her cleaning bucket and paused. The wet wainscoting caught her attention. She was certain it should have been a deep brown colour instead of grey. The corridor stretched before her, its white walls tinged with green. A gasp of surprise and alarm escaped from her lips. The heat inside her petered out and an icy coldness wrapped itself around her. She took a few tentative steps forward. The creaking floorboards beneath her feet broke the silence. Dark, repulsive shadows slithered along the walls, their torn edges suggesting pain and terror. She froze, consumed by an irrepressible sense of being watched. An unseen presence commanded her to walk down the endless corridor. The idea of running downstairs slipped idly across her mind. She threw glances behind and to each side, saw no staircase.
The frightful shadows merged with an instant darkness. A ray of light, thin as the thread of a spider’s web, shone beneath a door. A distressed voice called out Kim’s name. A door creaked open. A cold breath of air blew over her. She stepped inside a filthy, neglected room. A bed, covered in dirty ruffled sheets, stood opposite an old fashioned hearth, black with soot. An invisible hand shoved her back into the corridor. ‘Leave me alone,’ she pleaded. ‘Don’t make me do this. You shouldn’t have brought me here.’ Her feet sank deeper into the muddy carpet. The amplified sound of her hectic breathing and pounding heartbeat emanated out of cracked walls. She screwed her eyes shut, covered her ears. The ghastly sounds were sucked out of the atmosphere and a perfect hush settled over the room.
Andy Sachs stood in front of her, dressed all in green. ‘Room Number Twelve awaits you, Kim. Take your cleaning bucket with you, there’s a good girl … Oh, and be quiet as you can. The lady in there may be sleeping. You know her well. Mrs Seddon is her name. Go now.’
Andy marched off. His body disintegrated leaving behind a wisp of grey smoke. She went inside Room Twelve. The bed was tidy and covered with new blankets. All the furniture had been thoroughly polished. The smell of musk perfume hung in the air. Kim squirmed, jerked her head away from a fat bee. It buzzed loudly and settled on a jardinière net curtain. The sharp timbre of a violin suddenly filled the air. She was not alone. She crept towards the bathroom, turned her head to one side, listened to a woman humming whilst taking a shower. Kim sensed she was in danger. She knew instinctively who she was, an actress in a film so frightening she had nightmares for weeks after watching it. She had to warn her before the scene was played out to its dreadful climax. She swiped the shower curtains across the rail. The woman was facing the wall, soaping herself and gyrating her hips.
‘Go away from here before it’s too late,’ Kim commanded.
The woman turned around. The shower dwindled to trickle. The vapour cleared.
‘Who are you?’ Kim asked, looking her up and down. ‘Why do you look exactly like me?’
‘I am you, Kim,’ she replied politely. ‘My name is Janet, and you should be in this shower with me so we can both meet mother at the same time … Listen, the violin is playing louder … Come and join me.’
‘No. I’m not going to play the same part as you,’ Kim said sternly.
‘Be careful what you say. We are both surrounded by danger. Look to the floor. There’s a knife lying there. We can’t let anyone use it. We don’t want to risk being ripped to pieces.’
‘I can’t see a knife. You are lying to me.’
‘You are right. It has gone. Run away. Not to worry.’
The woman’s scrawny arms reached out, her bony fingers wriggled. Kim recoiled, turned and ran towards the exit door. A writhing mass of buzzing bees populated its surface. She snatched at the handle, waved her other hand violently to stop them landing on her face. ‘Go away,’ she shouted. Tiny feet pricked her neck. She squirmed, gripped the handle and jerked the door open. She ran to the window overlooking the busy street, hands frantically flapping. The bees vanished. Relief unleashed inside her. She leaned forward, used the windowsill for support. Air raced into her lungs with a whistle and came out with a wheeze. She regained her composure, focused on the shops across the street. A thin, old lady stared up at her. She wore a black mourning dress, veiled hat.
Kim rang Gill, told her she was at the hotel window and implored her to go outside. ‘Go to the end of the Courtyard,’ she continued. ‘Look to your right. She’s stood there, dressed in black. Find out who she is and what she wants from me. Please do it, Gill.’
Gill dropped what she was doing and rushed outside. ‘I can’t see the woman, Kim,’ she said, the phone tight to her ear.
‘She’s standing next to you. You can’t miss her.’
Gill shrugged. ‘I’ll come and see you later. Go away from the window, sit down and take a breather. Do that for me, will you?’
The corridor vibrated and reverted to its previous dimensions.
Kim slumped onto the floor, waited until her thumping heart had settled down and looked outside again.
The lady in mourning had disappeared.
Chapter Fifteen
Planning a history lesson was usually easy and enjoyable. Jay was at his writing desk one minute, pacing the room the next. His watch showed eight-thirty p.m. A line from a film ran through his head: ‘When duty and desire quarrel, who shall wear the final laurel?’
His thirst won.
He poured himself a lager, returned to his comfy chair. His phone bleeped a message, then another. The first text was from a friend asking if he fancied a game of squash the following day. The second text came from a work colleague reminding him of a forthcoming documentary on the History Channel. No message from Kim. He was beginning to believe she was fickle after all.
A shadow darkened the window. Was it her? He shot up and answered a knock on the door. Kayla gave him a cheesy grin. He wasn’t impressed. ‘You’d better come in.’
She slumped into a chair and said matter-of-factly, ‘You still mad at me?’
‘Because you asked for money?’
‘A small amount of money.’ She threw a paper bag onto his lap. ‘I wanted to treat you, and before you ask, I didn’t use the money you gave me.’
He looked inside it, saw a thick notebook, boxed Louis Codan pen and two packets of cigars.
‘You’re fond of pens, aren’t you?’
‘Cigars, too.’ He forced a smile and said, ‘How can you afford this? Louis Codan pens aren’t cheap.’
‘Come on, dad, it’s not as if I bought you an expensive watch or bracelet.’
‘I appreciate this. Thank you, Kayla … You look pleased with yourself. What’s changed?’
‘I’m living in a flat on Mitchell Street. If you’re ever passing by, come and see me. I’ve a new job coming up soon at a convenience store.’
‘Pleased to hear it.’
‘I see you’ve made some changes in here. Looks good. I haven’t seen
that picture before.’ She pointed at the wall. ‘Oh, it’s one of those natives. They use spears to hunt with and carry big shields for protection.’
‘Yes, a Zulu warrior … Kayla, we’ve had our problems in the past, not seen eye to eye on many occasions.’
‘Go on then, tell me what’s bothering you.’
‘I want to know if you’re on the weed?’
‘No, I’m not. What’s up with you? I bring you a present and you have a go at me.’
‘I’m concerned for your welfare. I’m aware of what’s gone on in the past and I want you to live a clean life.’
‘We hardly ever see each other. Why does it matter?’
Jay frowned. ‘It’s not by choice I don’t see you. You hardly ever answer when I ring. You happen to be my daughter, or have you forgotten? I’m always willing to listen if there are difficulties you can’t overcome.’
‘We’re together now, so don’t make an issue of it. I’m as happy as life will allow me to be.’ She looked at Jay’s cluttered desk. ‘You have a lot of work to do,’ she said, eager to change the tone of the conversation. ‘Do you ever tire of all the school books you have to mark?’
‘Quite often. If I need a break, I look at the quaint church across the road. It helps to calm and revitalise me.’
‘Have you been inside it?’
‘Yes, and I like to take a stroll in the grounds, admire the flowers.’
‘Do you pray there?’
‘I have done, once or twice.’
‘You’re a history teacher and you believe in God?’
‘Is there a connection?’
All Your Fears Page 10