I closed my eyes, steeled myself further and then a hand gripped mine and pulled me backwards. I fell and continued falling, all the way into wakefulness.
* * *
“Sweetheart, it’s all right. It’s a dream, just a dream, that’s all.”
Aunt Julia meant well, but it wasn’t a dream she’d woken me from, it was a nightmare, a living nightmare. My sobs were uncontrollable, but thankfully my pyjama bottoms were dry – I can just imagine the fuss Ethan would have made if I’d wet myself on his bed. Mum declared me ‘over-excited’, said it had been a long day, but I cried some more and begged for another story, desperate for her company still. All the while Ethan rolled his eyes as if dismayed at how pathetic his sister was. Mum finished with The Night Before Christmas, which was another family favourite. I loved it but the opening paragraph, ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse’ didn’t sit well. Blakemort wasn’t silent. It was stirring. It was Christmas after all, and the house hated it. I begged to sleep in Ethan’s room that night and much to my surprise he didn’t protest; in fact, he said it’d be okay, albeit begrudgingly. Aunt Julia smiled indulgently at his ‘graciousness’ and that at least seemed to please him.
“On the floor though, not in my bed. I’m not having her next to me.”
On the floor was fine, we could always drag my mattress in.
Ah, that third Christmas, so quickly it deteriorated.
Miraculously, and despite my fears, a peaceful night did ensue. Mum was right about something: I was exhausted, and I slept with no further dreaming. Up early, I rushed to the window hoping for deep swathes of snow. I’d never experienced a white Christmas before, and it looked like I wasn’t going to that year either, as the sun shone brightly. I closed the curtains again, crept over to Ethan, and shook him awake. The morning was spent opening our presents, which included all the things on my list, Barbie’s house, Barbie’s car; the works. My earlier disappointment was forgotten. I was thrilled. Mum had even made sure to get a stock of batteries in this time – lights could flash, horns could blare, it was perfect, just perfect.
Later Mum cooked dinner whilst Aunt Julia swatted flies.
“You need to get pest control in here,” she commented.
“We already have,” Mum replied. “Twice.”
After dinner – which was delicious – Ethan suggested we set up our toys in the music room. Mum’s ‘no’ and my ‘no’ were simultaneous.
“Just stay out of the music room,” she ordered. “Come into the drawing room instead, where we can keep an eye on you.”
Mum got the fire going, complaining of the cold again and she and Aunt Julia sat close to it, finishing the last of their wine.
After a while, still eager to please Aunt Julia, I think, and to remain in her good books, Ethan offered to make the adults a cup of tea.
Aunt Julia was surprised. “Are you sure he’s okay to use the kettle, Hel?”
“Of course, Ju, it’s one of his duties to keep his Mum ealiz with tea. He’s ten you know, nearly eleven, not a baby.”
Aunt Julia didn’t look convinced.
Ethan sprang to his feet. “Do you have sugar, Aunt Julia?”
“Yes, I do, just the one thanks. But, honestly, I don’t mind making—”
“Ju,” Mum interrupted, “let him do it, he wants to.”
Aunt Julia sat back in her chair and smiled. “That’ll be lovely, Ethan. Go easy on the milk in mine though, I just have a dash.”
Mum leaned across to say something to Aunt Julia and she laughed. She then stood up, straightened the skirt she was wearing and said she was popping upstairs to the bathroom. There was a toilet downstairs but we never used that one. It was ancient with one of those peculiar chain flushes that caused the water to erupt in a spectacular explosion before swirling away. Enough to put anyone off!
In her absence, Aunt Julia came to sit with me on the floor, picking up one of my dolls, remarking on how pretty she was, and toying with her hair.
When the scream came it took a moment to register.
“What the bloody hell?” Aunt Julia forced aside surprise and scrabbled to her feet. And then, her complexion grew paler. “Ethan!”
I stood too and we rushed forwards, out of the drawing room and in the direction of the kitchen. In the hallway, we heard another scream, this one coming from upstairs. Aunt Julia and I looked at each other in complete and utter bewilderment. Which way should we go? Who should we see to first? A tumbling behind us caught our attention – Mum flying down the stairs, her arms flailing and her red curls forming some kind of billowing curtain around her head.
“What the bloody hell?” Aunt Julia repeated.
I could only stare as realisation dawned. The house had been quiet in the past few days, but in its own way it was like a battery too, storing its energy, needing it to recharge so it could lash out again – and this time in the most violent of ways.
Blakemort Chapter Eleven
I ran to Mum but Aunt Julia ran to Ethan in the kitchen – both of them were still yelling, the sound punctuated with sobs and, in Mum’s case, a few choice expletives.
“Mummy!” I was yelling just as loud, terrified by the pain that was so clearly etched on her face.
“My leg,” she said in-between gasps, “my bloody leg.”
It wasn’t bloody but it was lying at a strange angle, twisted like her mouth.
“Ethan,” she continued, her breathing laboured. “What’s happened to Ethan?”
“I don’t know,” I replied pitifully.
“I must go to him…” She made to rise and then screamed again, unable to move at all. “Oh, shit, my leg. What the hell have I done to it?”
Tears were pouring down her face and mine – we were both so helpless.
“Go and see what’s happening to Ethan.” When I failed to move she urged me on. “Go on, Corinna. See if he’s all right.”
Reluctantly I stood and crossed the hall to the kitchen. Ethan was howling, Aunt Julia running his arm under cold water, the shock on her face reflecting my own.
“There you are,” she said on sight of me. “What about Mum, how is she?”
“She… she can’t move. Her leg looks funny.”
“Funny?” Aunt Julia queried before adding, “Oh, Christ, oh, bloody hell, I can’t believe this.”
“She wants to know what’s happened to Ethan.”
“Ethan burnt himself using the kettle,” she shook her head and looked again at his arm. “It’s pretty bad.”
“There was a face at the window,” Ethan blurted out. “I was about to pour water in the cups when I saw this person looking in – a man, a nasty man. He was scowling at me and pointing.” My brother was shaking violently as he recalled. “It was like… he blamed me or something. I was so scared my hand slipped.”
I was stunned. Ethan had seen the man in the garden – actually seen him? The same one that I’d caught a glimpse of the day we moved in? The nightmare I’d had also came to mind. Just how many of them were out there, in the grounds surrounding the house, waiting to gain entry? It was crowded outside as well as in.
Aunt Julia turned the tap off. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing running cold water on a burn, whether it should be cool not cold, and that water, for some reason, it’s freezing. I just… I don’t know.” She looked towards the kitchen doorway, in the direction of the stairwell. “We need an ambulance. Here, stay with Ethan, Corinna, I’m going to see your Mum, she’ll agree with me I’m sure. We need help.”
We swapped stations, me looking up at my brother, his face blotchy, and his arm absolutely livid. I gulped to see it, feeling sorry for him.
“Where’d you see the man?” I asked.
He inclined his head towards the window that looked over the garden. “There. He was standing right there.”
“What was he like?”
He gulped too. “He was… old.”
Old? Yes, I suppose a lot of them were old – older than we can imagine.
“He’s not there anymore, he’s gone,” I said, trying to console him. But it was a lie. As soon as I said it, I knew it was a lie. He was there. He was always there; a blackened soul with a mouth that swarmed flies. Hurry up, Aunt Julia. Hurry up. What if the man appeared again and made me pour boiling water over my arm too?
Aunt Julia rushed back in, her cheeks suffused with colour and her eyes wide. “The ambulance is on its way. Your mum’s broken her leg. What with that and poor Ethan’s arm, I think we’re going to be at the hospital for quite a while. Come on, Ethan, out of the kitchen, let’s go and wait with Mum.” Briefly she glanced towards the kitchen window. “We need to stick together.”
* * *
The ambulance seemed to take an age to arrive and meanwhile all four of us sat on the stairs, Aunt Julia with her arm around Mum, who looked drained, her skin ashen. I sat with Ethan on the step above, so close our arms were touching, both of us needing that comfort. The house was silent but it wouldn’t fool me again. I wouldn’t kid myself that the ghosts had gone away. They weren’t going anywhere. It seemed to grow dark in that hall. The light was fading outside, certainly, but there should still be some pouring in through the windows from the music room, the drawing room, the parlour, and the kitchen too, but it was as if it was afraid to encroach. I started trembling again – we all were, Mum and Ethan through shock whereas Aunt Julia said she felt cold, and it was. It was very cold, but that had nothing to do with why I was shaking. No longer still, I caught movement again, a figure dashing across the hallway. I wanted to cry – so badly I wanted to cry – but what I didn’t want was to add to the already considerable distress, so I bit down on my lip, so hard I’m sure I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Despite the darkness, neither Aunt Julia nor I moved to switch the light on. We all simply sat there and let it engulf us. When I think about that moment, I liken us to four orphans caught in a storm, huddled together, at the mercy of the elements – or the elementals… an altogether more sinister force.
At last there was the sound of a siren in the distance. Aunt Julia jumped to her feet, her hand clutching her chest and breathing heavily, as though she’d been running in a race. “About time,” she said as she rushed to open the door.
“Hello, love, sorry about the wait. Where are the patients?” the first paramedic asked.
“Follow me,” Aunt Julia replied, explaining what had happened en route.
Mum and Ethan were whisked off to hospital in Eastbourne and Aunt Julia and I followed in Mum’s car, Aunt Julia complaining she hadn’t driven for a while and was a bit nervous behind the wheel, but she did okay as far as I can remember. Despite my concern, I was so relieved to be away from that house, to have escaped. We had to wait such a long time to be seen but I didn’t mind, the longer the better as far as I was concerned. Mum had indeed broken her leg and they were going to keep her in, Ethan too. Which meant it would just be Aunt Julia and I returning to the house. That’s when I had an almighty tantrum. Right there and then, in the hospital corridor, the lighting stark above my head. I couldn’t go back to Blakemort. I wouldn’t!
Aunt Julia, usually so patient, was having none of it.
“We have to go back, Corinna! Stop this at once.”
“No, no, no,” I sobbed.
“We can’t stay on the ward, they don’t allow visitors overnight.”
“I want Mummy!”
“Mummy’s gone to have her leg fixed. But don’t worry I’m here and I’ll look after you. I’m sure she’ll be out tomorrow… or the next day.”
“I WANT MUMMY!”
“YOU CAN’T HAVE MUMMY. NOT TONIGHT!”
A nurse passed by and asked if we were all right. Aunt Julia did her best to explain but she was on the verge of tears too.
“Look, I’m not promising anything but there might be a room free on the ward where her brother is. It’s for parents to stay overnight but well… you’re close family, so it will be all right I’m sure. Let me go and check.”
Mercifully, there was a room free. Aunt Julia calmed and so did I. “We’ve got no overnight clothes,” she said, “but what does it matter? I think the main thing we need is sleep, just sleep. It’ll all seem so much better in the morning.”
I prayed for her words to be true, but of course they weren’t. In the morning we’d have to go home, face it all over again. But that night at least there was respite.
Blakemort Chapter Twelve
Both Mum and Ethan were released from hospital the next day and we drove home, Aunt Julia at the wheel again as Mum sat very gingerly in the front seat with her leg in plaster and Ethan sat in the back with me, admiring his bandaged hand and arm.
“That was quite a tumble you took,” Aunt Julia was saying.
“Yeah, yeah, it was,” agreed Mum.
“What happened exactly?”
“I… well…” Mum shook her head as if to clear an unwanted memory. “To be honest, Ju, it’s all a bit of a blur.”
“I’m sure it is. Where pain’s concerned, the mind shuts down to protect itself.”
I listened with interest to that and even slightly agreed. Perhaps that’s how I’d been able to last so long in that house, because my mind had simply shut down – most of the time anyway. And if that were the case, maybe, just maybe, that’s why the house had hit out at Mum and Ethan, because it wanted me to take notice, and so it would force the issue. Then again, what happened to them could be purely accidental, no evil force behind it at all. I tried so hard to convince myself of that.
Arriving home, Mum asked Aunt Julia to help her upstairs to her bedroom, as what had happened had taken its toll and she wanted to rest. Besides, she said, the painkillers she had to take were the kind that made you drowsy and right now, she could barely keep her eyes open. All of us went upstairs in the end, still feeling the need to be together, even if subconsciously, and the three of them went to her bedroom, whilst I peeled off towards mine. Making a point of leaving my door wide open, maintaining contact that way, I crossed over to my bed, sat down, and looked around. Earlier in the year I had confronted one of the spirits. It’s the story I first wrote about, concerning the boy. I made a huge fuss on sensing him and got thrown against the wall for my trouble. I felt like crying out again – screaming and yelling at the silent watchers but that memory deterred me. Even so, I wanted to know why there were so many ghosts and what they wanted from us. The only answers were in the writing I was forced to do but they weren’t answers as such – they were just a collection of random words, some repeated over and over again. I don’t think I need to reiterate which ones at this stage. As for what else was written I needed more help in deciphering it. I was simply too young to make sense of it on my own. But who could I ask? Who could I possibly trust to ask?
There was a scraping noise above me, that strange fluttering, and at my window a fly was constantly hurling himself against it – on a death mission too. Ignoring it all, I curled up on my bed in a foetal position, like Mum, wanting only to sleep, although there seemed to be little solace in that anymore with dreams so often turning to nightmares. I could feel myself well up but I don’t remember tears falling. What I remember next is Aunt Julia’s voice waking me for lunch. “… and then you and Ethan can go into the garden to play for a bit, it’s cold but it’s not raining and well, frankly, I think the fresh air will do you both good. The heating’s gone crazy again; it’s stuffy in here. Not healthy, not healthy at all.”
If only she knew how unhealthy it was.
I sat up just before she left the room. “Can’t we come to live with you, Aunt Julia?”
She paused for a moment, her back towards me and then turned, a smile on her face but it didn’t sit easy. “Darling, my flat’s tiny, there isn’t the room.”
“We could sleep on the floor.”
Aunt Julia shook her head. “It’s not possible.”
“But that man that Ethan
saw—”
“He’s gone now, he was probably just a passer-by. He’d got lost or something.”
“Then why didn’t he knock on the door? That’s what someone lost would do, wouldn’t they? Why’d he stand and stare in through the window? Why’d he point?”
“Darling, I… I don’t know.”
Because he wasn’t a passer-by, that’s why. Surely she realised that too – being located in the middle of nowhere there was really nothing to pass by.
Wanting to keep her with me, I asked another question. “Do you like it here?”
“Here?”
“In this house.”
“I suppose so.” Again a pause, before she asked, “Don’t you?”
“I hate it.”
There I’d said it – taken another chance. Now the house knew. It knew.
“You won’t be here forever.”
Wouldn’t we? It felt like forever already.
“Things will change, you’ll see. Stuff never stays the same.”
The smile slipped from her face entirely and I was surprised to sense a glimmer of sadness within her. I realised then how little I knew about her life. Was she happy in London? Did she have a boyfriend? Would she ever get married?
“Why haven’t you got children?” I asked.
Chasing the sadness away, she burst out laughing. “My, oh my, you are full of questions today!”
I shrugged my shoulders. “But why? You’d make a good mummy.”
She crossed the room and came to sit by me, one arm snaking around my shoulders, pulling me close. “That’s sweet of you to say so, darling. Maybe I will have children one day. I hope so. I’m just waiting to meet the right man.”
Psychic Surveys Companion Novels Page 7