“Do you know anything about him?” Sandra was secretly excited that he appeared to know who she was talking about.
“I know very little about him and care even less,” he said dismissively.
“I get that sir, and I’m sorry to intrude, but when you bought this house, did you find anything at all that might have belonged to him?”
“This house has been in my family for over a hundred years, and any trace of him is long gone.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Sandra felt frustrated. She was sure he knew more than he was willing to share.
“And I’m not required to, Miss Miller.” He scowled at her. “Please leave and don’t come here again.” He stepped back from the door and attempted to close it.
Sandra edged forward and put her hand out to stop him closing the door. “Look, I understand you’re fed up of the stories surrounding next door, and believe me, I’ve never heard such twaddle, but I have a job to do. All I’m trying to do is gather the facts and put an end to the rumours once and for all.”
He looked at her and pulled the door open cautiously. “If you think I believe that, you’re mistaken. I’ve been fed that line before and where has it got any of us? We can’t even sell our houses because people are too scared to live here.”
“I promise you, that’s not how I work. I just need somebody to help me.” Sandra looked straight into Mr. Breen’s eyes. “Please tell me, is there anything of David’s still inside the house?”
“Anything belonging to that murderer I gave away to a young man a couple of years ago when he came here asking the same questions as you. I was glad to be rid of it, so I gave him the lot.”
“Who was he?”
“Some weirdo interested in scary stories. He said something about a website and gave me his card. I can’t remember his name and nor did I care.”
“Do you still have the card?” Sandra couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“I don’t recall what I did with it. It was a long time ago.”
“If you find the card, or the name of the website comes back to you, will you please call me?” Sandra quickly scribbled her number in her notepad, ripped it out and handed it to him. “It’s extremely important I talk to this person.”
“If it means you’ll go away and leave us alone then yes, I will. If I remember of course.”
“Thank you, and I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” Sandra held out her hand as he slammed the door shut in her face.
She turned around and walked back to her car. What an arsehole, she thought to herself.
Sandra drove the short distance to number six, at the end of the lane. Several acres of beautifully landscaped grounds separated the properties.
The house didn’t look at all creepy in the daylight, but she still felt nervous being in such close proximity.
“What secrets are you hiding?” she said aloud before starting the car and driving off.
***
Sandra lay on the bed as her head began to throb. She was woken suddenly by the ringing of her mobile phone.
It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered anyway.
“Sandra Miller speaking.”
“Miss Miller, Patrick Breen here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Breen, but have we spoken before?”
“Yes, you interrupted my peace and quiet earlier today.”
“Oh yes, I apologise for that. What can I do for you?”
“I have the information you were looking for. Today’s your lucky day.”
Sandra sat bolt upright as excitement took hold. “So you found the card?”
“Yes I did, but before I give any details, I hope you’ll honour our agreement and leave us alone. All this speculation is most upsetting.”
“You have my promise, Sir. You’ll never hear from me again.”
“Good. Now do you have a pen and paper to hand?” He sounded as though he was eager to end the call.
“Yes, fire away.”
“The website is called LegendorLie.com. Stupid I know, but there you go.”
Sandra was waiting for more information.
“Is that it?” she asked. “Isn’t his name printed on the card?”
“No. That’s all there is. Good day, Miss Miller.”
Sandra looked at the phone screen, miffed at Mr Breen’s rudeness. The voicemail icon was flashing – somebody had tried to call her whilst she was talking. Pressing the voicemail button, she was surprised to hear the familiar voice of Dianne’s solicitor – telling her that Dianne Gallagher had sadly passed away and any business she wished to discuss in relation to his now deceased client should be addressed to him personally.
Sandra deleted the voicemail message and stared at her phone. A part of her felt sad that Dianne’s life ended with her hidden away at the convent, but another part of her felt relief that Dianne was finally free of her daily torment.
Chapter 16
It was three am when Sandra crept along the landing and into her home office, quietly closing the door so she didn’t disturb Nathan in the room opposite. She switched on the lamp before pulling the blanket off the back of the chair and placing it on the cold leather seat.
Opening the laptop, she sat in silence for a moment and stared at the screen. She typed LegendorLie.com into the google search engine and it opened in a second. She’d heard some of her colleagues discussing the website, but never felt the need to look at its contents.
Sandra was impressed with the design as she had been expecting something that looked amateurish. She located the forums and searched for Promised Land Lane and was pleased when a seemingly endless list began to populate on the screen. She scanned the list as her eyes settled on a topic called ‘The Man’. Her heart beat faster as she clicked on the link. She made herself comfortable on the chair and began to read.
A user by the name of myersmichael79 had posted: ‘People said that he loved cats and that he had an affinity with them. Apparently, they were drawn to him, and that the night he disappeared, the cats cried all night long and could be heard for miles.’
‘It’s just an old story,’ said another user, whilst another said the story was nothing more than a fairytale.
Sandra clicked on another post. This time from M@rvELMAd86.
‘His name was David Price and he was in his early twenties when he vanished. There was speculation he’d committed a horrible crime against a child and for that he was hung and buried in an unmarked grave just outside of the cemetery walls at midnight.’
The vast majority of the stories sounded far-fetched when she read through them, but she knew otherwise and was intrigued by him. Sandra had seen many strange things in her working life and discounted nothing. She knew the house he once lived in still existed as she had been there hours earlier. There was a birth certificate attached as a jpeg, but no death certificate and it appeared he had vanished without a trace. The person she was reading about lived on the Lane over a hundred years ago so how could he possibly still be there now?
Sandra tried to tell herself this was a hoax, and reading through the forum, there was too much conflicting information, and she struggled to separate fact from fiction.
A part of her wanted to stop investigating, but she had never forgotten her first visit to the Lane when she was a teenager. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever step foot near that place again, but she knew she had to get into the Gallagher house and look around for herself.
***
A light breeze had settled over the garden. The only sound was his footsteps, as they crushed the leaves and branches underfoot.
David told himself over and over he’d made the right decision and patiently waited for the day he would be reunited with his family, but it never got any easier. Feelings of loneliness washed over him.
His only real company were the cats that came from miles around to stand guard over the property.
His mind flickered back
and forth to the young woman, hoping she would never return.
“Morning,” Ray, the security guard shouted. Interrupting the silence as he opened the French doors leading to the garden.
David watched at a distance as Ray walked down the stairs leading to the garden. He searched the grounds -– the same routine he’d had for the last ten years.
Approaching the old man, David smiled. “Good morning, Ray. How are you today?” He was pleased to see him. It was the only opportunity he had for real conversation.
“Same as every other day. My arthritis is giving me grief.”
David often wondered what Ray thought of him, but he guessed over the years they were now used to one another.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Old age comes to us all, well most of us anyway.” Ray said, winking. He had one last look around, doffed his cap and walked back into the house.
***
David watched as the French doors closed. He looked around the garden and walked towards the well.
He climbed inside and lowered himself to the bottom in what seemed like seconds. With immortality came fearlessness. He wasn’t scared of falling and knew nothing could hurt him.
The cavern inside the well had been home to him for so long, he was now immune to his surroundings. For many years, he looked around and felt he was locked inside a stone grey prison. His only comfort was the sound of the trickling water in the distance.
Although he could see perfectly well in the dark, he always knew where she lay.
Standing over her, he watched her unnatural sleep. Sadness took over as he remembered who she was and what she had become.
***
Sandra arrived home from work and headed straight for the fridge. Nathan had cooked homemade mushroom soup the night before. She was starving and loved left-overs. She grabbed the Tupperware container and poured some of the liquid into a deep bowl and put it in the microwave.
Once the food had been warmed up, she carried it upstairs to her office on a tray and quickly finished it. She then spent several hours reading through the forums on LegendorLie.com once again. There were hundreds of posts related to Promised Land Lane, and, after reading through them all, she was surprised by how many people claimed to have seen the man.
A lot of the posts were from a forum member called Stephen Hamlett. After clicking into his profile, she discovered that he was the administrator. He must be the man Patrick Breen had told her about. His profile showed a picture of a gorgeous smiling face that did not fit the mental picture she had of him. The profile described his interest in anything paranormal or supernatural and listed his favourite program as Star Trek. Sandra groaned. A bloody Trekkie, that’s all she needed. She found his email address and introduced herself and to her surprise, he agreed to meet her to discuss the house on Promised Land Lane.
Sandra wasn’t expecting him to reply as quickly as he did. He suggested they meet at eight pm in the bar opposite the Horse and Cart Pub in Oakley Village. It would be quieter than the pub and she could nibble if she felt hungry. He described what he would be wearing -- grey jeans, white converse and a red hoodie. Sandra felt a surge of excitement as he agreed to meet her, selected her favourite picture from the PC’s hard drive and sent it to him.
She crept into the bathroom and closed the door before turning the taps on. A few minutes later she slid into the hot water and immersed herself under the bubbles. She felt relaxed and was enjoying the peace and quiet. The hot water soothed her tense muscles and she began to feel the knots that had formed around her body over the last few days untie themselves.
Sandra lay in the bath for a few hours, turning the taps on and off with her toes to re-heat the water. She hadn’t intended to lie in the bath for so long, but made the mistake of taking the Kindle with her. Once she started reading a book she struggled to put it down. Her thoughts turned to the meeting with Stephen Hamlett and suddenly realizing the time, she quickly jumped out of the bath and used one of the display towels hanging on the towel rail. She would curse herself later for being lazy as the usable towels were only in the cupboard behind the door.
Sandra was pleased Stephen had agreed to meet her so soon, and hoped he would have some information about David Price. There was no concrete proof to show he was still alive, apart from her own experiences.
Hearing Nathan downstairs, she crept slowly out of the bathroom and across the landing into her bedroom. Sitting in front of the mirror, she wasn’t happy with the person who stared back at her and felt as though she had aged twenty years.
Sandra pushed the skin on her face back with her fingers and decided a luxurious holiday was long overdue.
She towel dried her hair then pulled it into a ponytail as she looked around the room for something to wear, nothing could pass as clean.
Opening the door to her walk-in wardrobe she found a clean pair of jeans, a comfy old jumper and her brown suede boots.
She looked at herself one last time in the mirror and made a mental note to call her travel agent in the morning.
She crept along the hallway and ran down the stairs, and was out the door before Nathan realized she had gone.
The bar was only a few minutes away and she was craving her usual Americano coffee and chocolate chip muffin. It wasn’t the healthiest choice, but she couldn’t resist.
Chapter 17
Sandra parked opposite the bar and watched as Stephen Hamlett crossed the street. He was extremely good looking and obviously liked to work out – his picture didn’t do him justice at all. She cursed herself for not making more of an effort and checked her face in the rear-view mirror. Reapplying her lipstick, she told herself it was as good as it was going to get and climbed out of the car, making her way across the street.
Stephen sat himself in the window seat, taking in the world as it drifted by. He hadn’t noticed Sandra walking towards the coffee shop until she waved at him. He waved back. She noticed he had beautiful teeth, as his smile dazzled her.
“You must be, Sandra,” he said, standing up and offering his hand for her to shake.
“Yes, that’s me. So good to meet you, Stephen, and thank you for agreeing to meet so soon.” She felt herself blush. “I hope you didn’t mind me getting your information from Mr Breen?”
“Not at all. I’m just surprised he kept hold of my card as he wasn’t the friendliest of people.”
“He hasn’t changed much it seems,” Sandra said as they both chuckled in agreement.
“I must say, I was intrigued by your email. It’s not often I’m invited for coffee by a reporter of your stature.”
“Well, thank you. It’s very kind of you to say so,” she said smiling and pushing her breasts out a little more than was ladylike. “But it’s just a job. My interest in the lane is purely personal, and anything you tell me won’t go beyond these four walls.”
“There’s no need for any secrecy, Sandra. I’m happy to go on record, so feel free to use whatever you like.”
“That’s very good of you, and on that basis I’ll cut to the chase. I need you to tell me everything that you know about number six Promised Land Lane, and David Price.”
His face lit up like a thousand watt bulb.
“There’s an awful lot to tell you,” he said picking up a box from underneath the table. “I hope you’re not in a rush to get anywhere.”
“I’m all yours,” she said getting up to order her coffee. There was a twinkle in her eye. “Can I get you anything at all?”
***
His face flushed as she stood up. “Err, no thanks. I’ve already ordered.” Stephen guessed Sandra was attracted to him. He didn’t mind the opposite sex finding him attractive and found it flattering, but it usually made things awkward for the other person. He needed to put her straight before they went any further.
He rummaged through the box as she walked towards the counter.
She ordered her Americano coffee and returned to her seat.
“Where do
you want me to start?” He felt like a child with a new toy and couldn’t hide his excitement.
“How about you start with David,” she said in a hushed voice. “Would that be okay?”
“No problem at all,” he said with excitement in his voice. “Ian will never believe this when I tell him tonight.”
“Ian?” she asked. “Is he one of the other administrators on the forum?”
He laughed at her comments. “Sorry to laugh, but that’s quite funny. He’s my husband and has no interest in the website whatsoever. He thinks I’m mad to believe any of this, but when you see what I have in this box, you’ll think otherwise.”
***
It all clicked into place. Dammit. The body, the immaculate hair, the dazzling white teeth and the designer clothes. Gay. Bloody typical she thought to herself. Sandra felt like an idiot and couldn’t wait to tell Hilary.
Stephen focused back on the box as he retrieved what looked like a very old leather-bound book. It had seen better days.
“This little beauty is…” he said, pausing and looking to see what her reaction would be, “…David Price’s diary.”
Sandra gasped. She couldn’t believe her luck.
“How do you have this, Stephen?”
“I can’t give away all my secrets in one day,” he said winking at her.
“I guess not,” she said remembering that she could sit there and juggle her breasts and he would take little or no notice.
“I’ve had this for a couple of years now. It makes for fascinating reading.” Stephen then lowered his voice, sounding serious. “And I’m prepared to let you see it on the understanding you’ll never tell anybody I have it.”
“I promise. Like I said, whatever you tell me is just between us. Brownies’ Honour,” she said crossing her fingers under the table. “I asked to meet you more for personal reasons, than professional.”
He passed her the leather-bound book as the waitress arrived with her coffee.
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