Violet stood against the counter, her hand very close to the handle of a frying pan. My heart leaped. Please let this work. I wanted to go home so badly that I ignored everything telling me this was too risky.
Clover faced Rose. “How was your day?” he asked.
I stopped listening to their conversation when Violet’s hand circled the handle. Come on. I knew I was supposed to run when she hit him, but he was standing between her and the stairs. What if he managed to grab her as she tried to get past him? I had to stay to help her too. I could kick him if he tried to get up. I wasn’t strong, but I would give it a go. She was risking everything to help me; I wanted to help her if I needed to as well.
Before anyone had time to blink, and more important, before Rose and Poppy had time to register what was happening, Violet struck him over the back of the head with the pan and he launched forward.
No one made a noise. I expected Rose and Poppy to scream—they weren’t expecting it—but they didn’t. Clover stumbled a grand total of two steps, and by the time he’d corrected his balance, Violet was beside him as she made a run for the stairs.
He snatched her arm in his iron grip. She screamed.
8
SUMMER
Violet’s eyes widened in horror as she realized he hadn’t gone down like she’d planned. This is why we should have discussed different scenarios, I screamed at her in my head. Now we were never getting near that key and he would make doubly sure the door was locked at all times.
I pressed my side into the banister and dug my nails into the wood. What were we going to do now? Breathing suddenly became too hard, and I felt like I was drowning. Tears sprung to my eyes as I realized I wasn’t going home.
“Clover, I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“Shut up,” he growled. Spit flew from his mouth. He managed to keep his posture calm and controlled, relaxed even, when he sounded so murderously angry. What was he going to do now? The image of the knife he kept in his pocket flashed through my mind. He wouldn’t really use it, though, would he? It was just to scare us into behaving.
Out of his pocket came that same knife, the blade shining proudly under the light directly above. I gulped and I wanted to close my eyes through his threat and until he left but I couldn’t not watch. My back hurt where the edge of the banister dug in as I tried to get farther back.
Violet raised her trembling hands and shook her head. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. ”
“I’ve already given you a second chance, which isn’t something I offer lightly. There are no third chances, Violet. ” He spoke so calmly it sent a chill down my spine. Without another word from either of them, he took a step forward. There was no hesitation when he shoved the knife into her stomach.
Page 25
My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the floor, gripping the wooden banister as if it was my lifeline. I tried to scream, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Tears streamed down my face and I blinked hard to clear my vision. It’s a dream, it’s a dream, I repeated over and over in my head. Wake up. Wake up!
Violet gasped hard, desperate for breath, and slumped to the floor, limp and lifeless. She was dead. I had never seen a dead body before, only fake ones on TV. I stared at her, dazed. She was dead. It was over quicker than it would’ve been if we were in a movie.
His head snapped around and he faced Rose and Poppy. “Clean this up. Now. ” Turning back, he bounded up the stairs and out the door, locking it behind him.
Poppy pulled me up, dragging my stunned body to the sofa, where she then pushed me down. “Shh, stay here. ” There was no danger of me going anywhere. I literally couldn’t move, not an inch. It was as if my body had seized up.
I looked on in shock, breathing heavily, wide-eyed as Rose and Poppy gathered a bucket, mop, and what looked like another bucket full of cleaning supplies. “Oh God, she’s really dead,” Poppy whispered, almost in disbelief.
Rose squeezed her shoulder and brushed her fingers over Violet’s face, closing her eyes. “Get the body bag, Poppy. ” My eyes bulged and my throat dried. “Get the body bag, Poppy” were five words that instantly burned themselves into my memory. They had done this before.
A small pool of blood had started to form beneath her body. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bright red liquid. Rose took Violet’s hand and kissed it. “Good-bye, sweetheart,” she whispered. I gagged, slapping my hand over my mouth as I ran to the bathroom.
Rose and Poppy were struggling to pick up Violet when I came back in the room; there was no way I was going to offer to help them put someone in a body bag. They carefully laid her down and pulled the sides of the bag up. Even though they struggled to move her, they never asked for my help. They either didn’t want to make me so soon or they just knew it wasn’t happening.
I stared as they moved in tune, working around each other perfectly, as if they’d done it a million times before. How many times had they cleaned up after his murders? A shiver ripped through my body, turning my blood cold. Would I have to see something like that again?
My eyes fixed on the small sliver of Violet I could still see. She looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping. Of course, I knew she wasn’t. Rose zipped the bag up, and I sagged in relief, mentally thanking her for creating the plastic shield between Violet’s face and my eyes. But I knew I’d never forget it. My head pounded and heart raced as I struggled with what I’d just witnessed.
“Good-bye,” Poppy whispered and placed her hand over where Violet’s heart was.
I watched in horror as they stood up and collected a bucket, filling it with water. They were going to mop up the blood and then it would be like it never happened.
The water in the bucket quickly turned pink as it mixed with the blood; it looked like one of my mum’s cocktails, and I tried to pretend that’s exactly what it was. My stomach turned when Poppy lifted the mop to rinse it, a string of blood stretched between the floor and the sponge pad and dripped back to the floor.
The horribly strong metallic smell bulldozed its way through the eye-watering lemon scent and I gagged. As quickly as the blood had poured onto the floor, it was gone. They were fast but thorough—not one spot was left unclean. How many times?
If it weren’t for Violet lying in a bag in the corner of the room, you would never know someone had just been murdered here. That was the scariest, most horrific thing I had ever witnessed, and they just cleaned it all up as if they were mopping muddy footprints. Their brief moment of sadness seemed long gone.
“He’ll be back to get the body after he’s had a shower,” Poppy said, sighing and looking at Violet. The body. She wasn’t even a person to them anymore. Was that why they get through it and how they’re able to be so calm now? See a body, not a person. I tried. I pictured Violet—the body—with no face and no name. I took everything away from her until she was just a lump of meat. But I still wanted to collapse and scream until I lost my voice.
I sat back down and gripped my hands to try to stop them from shaking. “How many people has he…you know?” I whispered. Murdered. Poppy looked away and I gritted my teeth. Violet wasn’t the first; he’d done it before. That was what I’d heard the other night. I whimpered, curling into a ball on the sofa.
Rose lowered her head and replied, “Eight since I’ve been here, including Violet. ”
Page 26
9
CLOVER
Saturday, March 25th (2005)
Loneliness was like a terminal disease. With every passing day you faded just that little bit more. I had felt as if I were dying for the past four years and I’d had enough. Combing my hair one last time, I slid my wallet in my back pocket and picked up my keys. The girls’ room was finished and had been for three days now. There was just one thing missing before I would be ready for them—their clothes.
On the way to the department store, I stopped off at my loca
l florist to buy a bunch of yellow tulips for my mother. They were her favorite. I never liked them, but I appreciated their natural beauty and purity.
“Good morning, Colin,” Mrs. Koop said and smiled from behind the fresh-flower-filled counter.
I returned her smile and inhaled the fresh aroma of a mixture of flowers. “Good morning. ”
“Would you like your usual?”
I nodded once. “Please. ”
“Coming right up, dear. ” She turned her back and gathered a handful of bright tulips, tying them with yellow ribbon. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?”
“Oh, same old, same old,” she replied and gave me her motherly smile. “That’ll be ten pounds, please. ” I handed over cash. “Thank you. Have a lovely day. ”
“And you, Mrs. Koop. ”
I drove to the graveyard, smiling to myself. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day for early March. It wouldn’t be too much longer and I would be alive again. I wouldn’t drown in the silence and emptiness of my home anymore.
For a minute I sat in the parking lot and stroked the tulip’s delicate, silky petals. No man had tampered with them or damaged them. They were pure and innocent—something that wasn’t often found in this world of greed, disgrace, and self-gratification. The wrong people were protected while the innocent were left to be picked at like a lion’s prey. I wanted to stop that. I wanted my family to be protected from the outside evil. I will stop that. I will protect them. I knew how and I was willing to do it. It seemed as if I were the only one out there willing to do what it took.
Getting out of the car, I walked along the familiar path. Mother’s grave was at the end of the graveyard in the right-hand corner. There was a space beside her reserved for me, so that we could be together again in the end. I placed a patchwork blanket down and knelt on it. Gazing at the perfectly soft petals, I smiled, appreciating the purity of nature’s most beautiful creation.
Turning my attention to my mother’s grave, I placed the flowers over her heart. “I miss you,” I said aloud. “I hope you don’t feel that me getting the family I have always wanted will affect what I feel for you in any way. ” I kept my focus on the flowers. “I love you very much and I always will. Nothing will stop me visiting you or putting you first. I won’t ever forget what you taught me, and I promise you I will continue striving for what you wanted for this world. I won’t let them win, Mother. I promise you that. ”
The sound of a young girl’s laughter caught my attention. She walked beside her parents and what must have been a brother. Her long blond hair hung down her back like a light golden waterfall. She was the reason I would never give up the fight. Innocent little girls like her that in a few years would be tainted beyond repair.
“No, Mum,” she shouted, “I don’t like Backstreet Boys anymore; they suck. ”
I smiled at the innocent, fickle comment. She could only be about ten or eleven, not long until she discovered boys and would have to contend with other girls fighting for the attention of the one she liked.
Her mum laughed. “Sweetheart, yesterday you bought their poster. ”
“Well, that was yesterday. ” Her parents shook their heads, both smiling with pride and amusement. The boy hung back a step as if embarrassed to be with them. He held his cellphone out in front of him and mindlessly tapped away at it.
As quickly as they appeared, they were gone, out the other side of the fence. That was all I wanted—except I wouldn’t sit back and allow my family to be corrupted, unlike that girl’s parents. Soon enough, their beautiful little girl would become just another one of them.
I stood up and gathered the blanket, now eager to get to the city and shop for the girls’ clothes. I felt a pang of guilt for leaving my mother to shop for other women, but I needed this. I couldn’t go on alone anymore. “Good-bye, Mother. I’ll visit again soon. ” As I walked back to my car, I looked around for that family again, but they had disappeared. My heart ached for that poor, young, golden girl.
Page 27
***
I had been shopping with Mother many times, but this was very different, exciting. This was my choice and no one else’s. I could dress them how I wanted—respectfully, modestly, but also modern. I walked into the department store and was hit by the feminine scent of female perfumes in an array or brightly colored bottles.
As I followed the sign to women’s clothing, I wondered what the girls would smell like. Would they always have their own scent, or would it merge into one the longer they were all together? Would we eventually have the same smell? Would mine change to accommodate theirs into the mix, or would they change to accommodate me? I almost couldn’t walk in a straight line I was so excited and anxious. I wanted it all now.
A group of teenage girls squealing over a picture of a male model drew my attention. There were three of them, all wearing revealing and tasteless clothing. How on earth could their mothers allow them to leave their houses looking like that? The loudest one had a dark orange/brown tan and heavy makeup. Society had gone downhill if women thought it appropriate to act and dress like disgusting little whores. My eye twitched.
Swallowing my hate, I turned and walked away. I stopped in women’s clothing and began looking for the perfect outfits. “Can I help you?” the shop assistant asked. She wore a distastefully short skirt and low-cut shirt. No wonder the younger generation of women dressed like little whores if they see career women dressed that way too.
I smiled. “Yes, please. I’m looking for matching skirt and cardigan sets. ”
“Oh, okay. Well, we have this one here,” she said, unable to hide her surprise, and gestured with her hand at a floral set beside me.
“Perhaps something a little more modern. It’s for my…fiancée. ” Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy how that sounded. Fiancée. Could I have that? A normal fiancée? No, probably not. No one but Mother would understand what I was trying to do, not straight away, but I wanted a family to share my life with.
“Of course, here are the more fashionable two-pieces. ” I followed her to the next rail. Now these were perfect. Soft pinks, greens, and blues would make them look respectable but be in keeping with their age.
“I’ll have four of each of those three. ”
“Four of each?”
“Yes, please. ”
She frowned and flicked through the rail. “What size?”
“A ten, please. ” Ten was a healthy size, not like the six young girls aspire to these days.
“Are these all, sir?” she asked, holding the clothes in her arms.
I nodded. “That’s all. Thank you. ” Their underwear had been ordered via the Internet. I didn’t have any business looking through that in a shop. I paid for the clothes with cash. “Thank you for your help. ”
“No problem. I hope your fiancée likes them. ”
“I’m sure she will. ” Grabbing the stuffed bags, I left the shop.
I went straight home, eager to hang them and view the finished product. Moving the waist-high bookcase out of the way, I unlocked the door to the girls’ home. Their place was beautiful, and although it wasn’t huge, it had everything they could ever want or need. It was big enough for them to live comfortably, and the separate bedroom made it more bungalow-like. I was proud of what I had created—all for them.
Walking into their bedroom, I hung one set of each color in the four wardrobes and smiled. I had made sure I spent more time in their room, getting it perfect for them. I was doing the right thing. Would Mother think so too? Would she want me to be with anyone else? I shook my head. I had come too far to turn back. I needed this. I was owed this.
The bedcovers matched and the beds lined up, two against both walls facing each other. Between the beds were two bedside tables and two single-width wardrobes on each side. Each girl had her own space. Just a year ago, t
his was an old cellar, housing boxes of junk and old furniture. Now it was a beautiful home for four beautiful, pure women.
Climbing back up the stairs, I closed and locked the door and pushed the bookcase back across. The door was hidden, matching the wallpaper; you would never know it was there, and the placement of the bookcase meant the door handle was out of view.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves. Not long until I could pick up Violet now. Turning around, I saw something that made my heart sink. The ornate crystal vase now held a bunch of dead tulips. My breathing became heavy and sharp, and the tips of my fingers tingled. Dead, they’re dead. The only truly pure thing in this world and they died.
Page 28
A fog of red smoke engulfed me and I was lost.
10
SUMMER
Thursday, July 29th (Present)
“Poppy, what’s this?” he spat. His nostrils flared and a vein on the side of his neck poked out. I jumped at his random outburst. What’s what? I looked around. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was ever out of place. Looking back at him for a clue, I saw him staring at the dead poppies, breathing heavily.
“I’m sorry, Clover. I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. Couldn’t help what? What the hell was going on? He looked at her with an icy glare that made my heart freeze. Was he going to kill her?
“I-I’m sorry, Clover. They just died. ” The fear in her voice terrified me. The flowers died. Of course they bloody did; they were in a vase underground. I couldn’t believe what was happening. It was too stupid.
He slowly walked over to Poppy, watching her like a predator. “You didn’t look after them,” he growled. Look after flowers. Was he actually insane?
Poppy flinched and shook her head. “I-I did but they. Um, they—”
“Don’t mumble,” he shouted, making us all jump. “You let them die. ”
“No, I didn’t. I swear. I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Clover,” she whispered, pleading with wide eyes for him to understand. He stepped forward, backing her against the wall. What the hell was he doing?
Rose wrapped her arm around me and held me tight. “It’s going to be okay,” she mumbled under her breath. Was it? Would he kill her for the dead flowers? How could he assume they wouldn’t die anyway? I cowered into Rose’s side.
The Cellar Page 7