by Dan Scottow
38
Lucy
The cottage sits in complete darkness when she arrives home, shortly after eleven thirty. Mylo had pelted her over the loch as fast as he could. As the hum of his engine disappears in the distance, she feels suddenly alone. And afraid.
Perhaps Diana is still sleeping? She crosses the garden, moonlight casting eerie shadows over the lawn. A bird shrieks somewhere in the woods. She spins towards the sound, heart pounding. Continuing her journey, she tries the handle of the kitchen door. Locked. Pressing her hands up against the window, she peers through, but can’t see any signs of life inside.
Frowning, she heads around the side of the house, searching for her keys in her purse. She unlocks the door, stepping into darkness.
‘Who’s there?’
A muffled, childlike voice whimpers from the end of the hallway. Lucy flicks a switch to her left, and the ground floor is illuminated.
‘Diana? Is that you?’
‘Lucy?’
She rushes down the corridor, turning on the kitchen light as she enters. Diana is huddled in the corner to the back of the room.
‘My God! Diana, are you okay? Did you fall?’ She glances around for Diana’s stick, but she can’t see it.
‘Oh, Lucy, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been so afraid.’
Lucy hurries to her aid, helping her up into a chair.
‘What happened?’
Diana’s wild eyes dart about the space, lingering on the back door. Her arms and face are covered in scratches and unsightly red blotches. Shreds of greenery are tangled in her messy hair.
‘Is she gone?’ she whispers sharply.
‘Who? Diana, what’s going on?’
‘Shh!’ she hisses, holding a finger to her lips. ‘She’ll hear you.’
‘Who will?’
‘Turn off the lights. We can’t let her know we’re here.’
‘Diana, you’re scaring me.’
‘You should be scared. We all should!’
Something in the woman’s eyes tells Lucy she is not joking.
‘Where’s your stick?’
‘I lost it… in the ferns.’
Lucy crosses to the door, turning the key in the lock. Diana scurries, crablike, across the tiled floor, much faster than Lucy would have thought she was capable of. Her hands claw at Lucy’s arms.
‘Don’t go! She’s waiting.’
‘Diana, I don’t know who you think is out there, but I can assure you that there’s nobody there. It’s fine.’
Diana looks confused for a moment. Lucy turns the handle, pushing the door open.
‘Don’t leave me!’ Diana wails. Talon-like nails dig into Lucy’s flesh through her jumper.
Lucy gently prises the fingers away from her arm. She bends, grasping Diana’s shoulders in both hands.
‘Look at me. I am going outside to get your stick. You need it. You can lock the door behind me, and I’ll knock when I’m back, okay? I won’t be long. Five minutes, max, all right?’
Diana’s eyes dart around the kitchen again, then back towards Lucy’s face. She nods. Lucy steps out onto the grass. She hears the click of the lock behind her. Shaking her head, she walks in the direction of the field to the right of the studio. She stands at the edge, heart beating fast. There is nothing to be afraid of, she tells herself. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, and as an owl hoots in the woods, she pushes her way into the dense foliage.
39
Diana
She has no idea how long the girl has been gone. It seems longer than five minutes. Diana remains huddled on the floor. It’s eerily silent outside, besides the odd squawk from a woodland bird.
She sees a shadow pass the window. Her heart begins to beat faster as she shrinks down lower, out of view. A loud bang on the door makes her jump. Chest pounding now, she doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare.
‘Diana, it’s me, Lucy. Can you let me in?’
She quickly turns the key, backing away and sinking down to the floor, huddled like a terrified child. The door opens and Lucy steps inside, carrying the cane.
‘Let me help you up,’ she says tenderly, slipping her arms under Diana’s pits. She pulls her to her feet, handing her the stick.
‘Here.’
She pushes the door closed, locking it, then guides Diana towards a chair.
‘We should take a look at those scratches. Some of them are deep.’
She begins to walk away, but Diana clutches at her jumper.
‘Stay. I don’t want to be alone.’
‘I’ll be right back. I’m just going to grab some things from the bathroom.’
Diana nods. Lucy hurries away, returning a few moments later with a bundle of supplies from the cabinet. She takes an antiseptic wipe, cleansing the scratches. Diana winces as the cloth skims over her skin.
‘I’m sorry. It will sting a little, but we don’t want them to get infected,’ Lucy whispers, stroking Diana’s hands.
Once the wounds are clean, she pours calamine lotion onto a cotton wool ball, wiping the thick pink liquid over the nettle stings. It feels cool, soothing, and Diana closes her eyes for a moment.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ Lucy asks as she winds a bandage round a particularly deep cut on Diana’s left wrist.
‘There was someone in the house. A girl. I thought you were back early. But it wasn’t you.’
Lucy stops briefly, glancing round the kitchen.
‘In here? Are you sure?’
‘I followed her into the ferns. She chased me out, and I tripped.’
‘Why would you go out in the ferns at night?’
‘I had to see. It was her, you know.’
Lucy stares into Diana’s eyes.
‘Rose?’
‘Yes. She was here.’
Lucy crosses the room, fills the kettle and flicks it on.
‘Diana, Rose is… dead. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I know that! I’m not fucking stupid!’ she hisses aggressively.
Lucy holds up her hands. As the water boils, she takes a bag of coffee from a cupboard, spooning it into a cafetière. She sees the plate of untouched food still covered in cling film as she returns the coffee to the shelf.
‘You should eat. Can I warm this up for you?’
‘Not hungry.’
‘I know, but you need to. You’ve had a fright. You’re still shaking. Sustenance will help.’
She nods at Diana, smiling. She takes the plate, popping it in the microwave, turning the dial. The light flicks on and the meal begins to spin. After a few minutes it pings, and she places it in front of Diana.
‘Eat up. It will give you some strength. I’m going to make sure Richard is all right. I won’t be long. Don’t worry, I’m only through there.’ She points at the adjacent wall. Diana looks terrified, her eyes swoop about the room again, but she nods. She watches as the girl leaves the kitchen.
Pushing limp-looking vegetables about, she tries to fork some into her mouth, holding back the urge to empty her stomach of its contents.
She manages a few mouthfuls of some sort of mashed mess at the side. It’s bitter-tasting. Nothing tastes right at the moment. She hears Lucy talking to Richard from the next room. The sound of the girl’s voice calms her a little. A few minutes later, she returns.
‘He’s fine. I’ve put him to bed. It’s late for him.’
Diana doesn’t respond. The kettle clicks, and Lucy pours water over the coffee grounds. She waits a while for it to brew, then pushes the plunger. She fills two cups, spooning three sugars into one, handing it to Diana. The women sit in silence for a while, sipping their drinks.
‘Diana… I’m not sure what happened tonight, but you know there’s no such thing as ghosts, don’t you? Tell me you know that.’
Diana stares at her, eyes wide.
‘That’s what you think… but you’re wrong. I can prove it. I need to find something, but when I do, I can prove to you that Rose is in t
his house.’
She’s not making sense anymore.
‘What do you need to find? I don’t understand.’
‘You’ll see!’ She smiles, showing Lucy her teeth. Lucy doesn’t know what else to say, so they sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping coffee.
‘She’s going to kill me, you know,’ Diana says suddenly.
Lucy stands, crossing to Diana’s chair, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
‘Nobody is going to kill you. Not while I’m here. I promise.’
‘You can’t protect me. She can walk through walls.’
Lucy doesn’t want to point out the irony that Diana has been hiding behind a locked door all night. It’s not the time.
‘There are no ghosts.’
Diana’s hand darts up to cover Lucy’s mouth.
‘Stop saying that! You’ll make her angry.’
Lucy sighs.
‘You must believe me. She is here. I can feel her.’
‘Why don’t I help you to bed?’
Diana nods, and Lucy heaves her out of her chair. She walks with her down the hallway, opening her bedroom door. Turning on the light, she steps in ahead of Diana. The room stinks of stale sweat. Dead flies litter the floor and windowsill.
‘Nobody in here. All safe,’ Lucy says brightly. Diana hesitates, so Lucy eases her in, watching as she crosses to her bed.
‘Goodnight then,’ she calls, closing the door.
Diana pulls open her bedside drawer, grabbing a bottle of pills. She swallows a handful, reclining.
The room swirls around her, ghostly images of a blonde girl in a tattered, bloodstained nightie swim in her mind as she drifts out of consciousness.
At some point in the night, she wakes. The room is in complete darkness. Someone is sitting on the edge of her bed.
‘Lucy?’ Diana mumbles, confused. Her throat is dry and she struggles to speak. The girl strokes her head.
‘There, there. Go back to sleep. Everything will be okay,’ she whispers. Her voice sounds… odd.
The girl begins to hum an old tune. It’s familiar, but in Diana’s fuddled state, she can’t quite place it.
As her companion gently caresses her hair, she falls slowly away into slumber.
40
Lucy
Surprisingly, she slept rather well. That will no doubt have had something to do with the two bottles of wine shared between herself and Mylo. She lay in bed for a short period, thinking about Diana, but as the bizarre events of the evening whirled around her mind, she eventually drifted off to sleep.
She now sits on the grass with a steaming cup of black coffee, staring out over the loch in its morning light. It’s not so sunny today, overcast. The air is damp, much cooler.
Richard is washed, dressed, and fed, and is in his chair on the lawn beside her. From what she can tell, he spends his entire life gazing through a window at the water, so she feels he may as well see it closer up, whether he’s aware or not. She suspects he might be.
Diana was up late this morning. Her routine is getting later each day. But now she is pulling things out of cupboards inside the house, making lots of noise. Lucy decides to leave her to it. She’s not making much sense. Eventually, the woman emerges through the kitchen door. She’s made more effort today, her hair is back in her signature long plait, although it’s not done as neatly as usual. Strands and loops poke out all the way down. But at least she’s trying.
She has clean clothes on too. That is, different clothes from the previous two days. She eyes Richard as she approaches.
‘You managed to get the chair out okay on your own?’
‘Yes, no bother at all,’ Lucy replies.
Diana shoots her a weak smile and perches herself on the edge of one of the wooden garden chairs.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ Lucy asks pleasantly.
The woman frowns, confused.
‘You were looking for something in the house.’
Diana grins.
‘No, but I know it’s here somewhere. I’ll find it. And then I’ll show you. I’ll prove it. I’m not mad. I’ll prove she’s here.’
Lucy sighs, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want to encourage her delusions.
‘Thank you… for last night,’ Diana says eventually.
Her speech is still slurred. On closer inspection, her eyes are bloodshot; dark circles beneath them.
Lucy nods, glancing out across the water.
‘You must think me utterly insane.’
‘I think you had a fright. That’s understandable, given… everything.’
Diana gazes across at her husband.
‘You’re good with him. Much better than… well, you know. I’m sure he likes you.’
Lucy looks at Richard, then towards his wife.
‘Have you eaten?’
Diana shakes her head.
‘You should. Even if only a slice of toast. You can’t function properly without food.’
‘I can’t manage it. I’m constantly fighting waves of nausea. I can’t even smell it without wanting to spew.’
Lucy purses her lips.
‘I’ve got some scopolamine in my room. They’re a pretty strong anti-sickness tablet. I can give you some of those if it will help.’
Diana seems to perk up, eyes wide.
‘Could you? That would be wonderful.’
‘I shouldn’t… not really. They’re prescription… but you need to eat.’
‘Please, Lucy, I’d be eternally grateful. I can’t bear this feeling.’
‘Okay. But you mustn’t tell anyone. Understand? I’d lose my job.’
Diana nods, as Lucy stands, hurrying inside. She heads up to her room, rummages around in a drawer. Returning to the garden, she sees Diana has slid down onto the seat. She hands her a blister pack of pills.
‘Go easy. Maybe start with one, right?’
Diana swiftly grabs the packet, nodding. She pops one from the tray directly into her mouth, swallowing without a drink, and closes her eyes.
‘How are you feeling about what happened last night now? Are you any clearer about what went on?’
Diana straightens in her chair.
‘I know exactly what went on.’ She pauses briefly. ‘You may think I’m mad. Or making it up. But I did see Rose last night, in your bedroom window, and then again, out amongst the ferns. I assure you.’
Lucy exhales slowly through her nose, sipping her coffee before she speaks.
‘I know what you think you saw, but–’
‘There’s no think about it. I did see!’ she hisses, voice full of venom. The change in her demeanour is instant. Lucy decides to drop it. No point arguing with an insane woman.
‘Did you have a nice evening with Mylo?’ Diana asks, beaming. Her teeth glint between her lips, and just like that, she is all sweetness and light once more.
‘It was very pleasant, thank you.’ Lucy stands, smoothing out the creases from her jeans with her free hand, and brushes some strands of grass from her bottom. As she turns to go, Diana calls after her.
‘Lucy, wait.’
She faces Diana, a forced smile on her mouth.
‘That tune you were humming last night… what was it? I recognised it but couldn’t place it. It was beautiful.’
Lucy frowns.
‘Which tune?’
‘When you were in my room, after I woke in the night.’
Lucy shakes her head slowly, narrowing her eyes.
‘You were sitting on the edge of my bed and humming to me.’
The colour drains from Lucy’s face.
‘I wasn’t in your room last night.’
41
Diana
She’s been unsettled since the revelation about the woman in her room the previous evening. Her mind is all over the place right now. She doesn’t even know if what she is seeing is real anymore. But the moment she admits this is the moment she becomes like her mother.
And that can not
happen. So for the time being, she must believe that she is not insane. Do crazy people ever think they are crazy, she wonders?
Lucy hadn’t wanted to leave her. She sat with her a while. Not talking. Simply being there. A good girl. After preparing some lunch for the three of them, she wheeled Richard back into the house, then headed out for the afternoon. Although it’s overcast, the day is muggy, but she was dressed for cooler weather, as usual. Diana thinks how nice it is to see a woman not feeling the need to expose her flesh all the time.
The food sits untouched on the garden table. She can’t bring herself to eat it. Not yet. She pulls the blister pack from her pocket, popping two more pills from it into her mouth. After a few minutes, she picks up the sandwich that Lucy has made, taking a bite. She can’t taste anything. May as well be swallowing dirt from the ground. She manages half, then tosses the rest out towards the woods. Let the foxes enjoy it. Someone should.
As she glances out at the trees, she can’t help feeling they seem closer than usual. Have they moved? Everything feels more closed in. Threatening. A large Scots pine looms on the perimeter.
Has that always been there?
A breeze blows through the garden, stirring the leaves on the huge old willow above her head.
She looks up. The sound seems to swirl about her. She feels like she is falling again, but she knows she is sitting. She screws her eyes tightly shut, wishing it would all go away.
Diana, Diana, Diana, Diana, Diana…
The rustling foliage is whispering her name over and over.
She whips her neck around; the sounds are coming from all directions now. A cacophony of murmuring voices. Placing her hands up to her ears, she balls them into fists, but the noise keeps coming. Louder now.
We know, we know, we know, we know, we know…
The volume is rising; the hum becoming a shout, then a scream, all building to a horrendous crescendo.
‘SHUT UP!’ she hollers, opening her eyes.