by Amy Cross
Finally a gray, slippery mass slips out of my mouth and hits the floor. With my remaining good eye, I stare at the shivering creature, watching as its trailing tentacles twitch wildly. Some kind of slime is dribbling from my lips, but at least my throat is clear and I can breathe now.
“Please,” I gasp, even as I feel something else wriggling in my throat, starting to push up into my mouth, “I can't get sick...”
Chapter Fifty-One
Alice
Today
“Car packed?”
“Car packed,” I say as I sit next to her on the beach, early the following morning. “We're ready to go.”
I wait for her to reply, but she seems lost in thought. We're just a few meters from the shoreline, and a strong wind is blowing along the beach. Above, the gray sky promises rain.
“It was over there,” Kate says suddenly, turning and pointing at a spot not far from here, a little way from the town. “Where that bush is.”
“What was over there?” I ask.
“That was where Mum...”
Her voice trails off, and then she turns to me. Her eyes, already red and sore from last night's heavy drinking, are now filled with tears. A moment later, I realize that I can see her bottom lip trembling.
“That was where Mum collapsed,” she continues finally. “It's where she fell, and you were crying next to her, and I shouted and I ran -”
She turns and points toward the shore.
“I ran from there.”
She points along the beach.
“Past there, toward those huts and -”
“We don't have to talk about it,” I tell her.
“And I dropped to my knees when I reached her,” she continues, sniffing back more tears, “and I shook her and I screamed, but she wouldn't wake up.”
She's looking at the spot next to the bush now, at the spot where she says Mum fell.
“It was a morning like this,” she adds. “Not too hot, not too cold. Overcast and dull. I remember the sound of waves at the shore, as I clung to Mum. You were crying, and people from the town started noticing that something was up.”
She pauses, before lowering her head and – a few seconds later – starting to sob.
“Hey,” I say, putting an arm around her trembling shoulders, “it's okay. We should never have come back here.”
“I shouldn't be so upset,” she whimpers.
“There's no should about it,” I tell her, before kissing the side of her head. “You had to be so strong back then. You were only five, and we only had each other in the world.”
“I'm sorry I don't have a photo of Mum to show you.”
“Don't worry about it. I'm fine.”
“You should stay here,” she continues, wiping her eyes as she turns to me again. “You shouldn't let me drag you away.”
“There's nothing here for me to do.”
“What about your little Scooby mystery?”
“I don't need to know what happened.”
“What about the mysterious book reviews written by a dead woman?”
I pause, trying to come up with an answer.
“Somebody has been impersonating her,” I suggest finally. “Anyway, they seem to have stopped now. I put some short stories online and Dora Ohme hasn't left a review for more than twenty-four hours, so I guess it's over. The culprit was probably just some weird local who realized he had to quit once he heard that Dora was dead. People can be strange sometimes.”
I wait for her to say something, but she's already looking over her shoulder, toward the spot where Mum died. After a moment, I realize that it's the same spot where I fell in my dream, but I know that has to be a coincidence. Maybe the whole problem here at Curridge has simply been that a few coincidences lined up in a certain way. Looking along the beach, I can just about see the distant cliff-face that Graham showed me last night, where the rocks fell thirty years ago.
Another coincidence.
“Come on,” I say eventually, getting to my feet as I feel a few light spots of cold rain. “We've got a long drive ahead of us.”
***
“Now be careful on those roads,” Dorothy says as I make my way around the side of the car. “People drive like maniacs, you know.”
“I've noticed.”
“Just because the speed limit is forty, that doesn't mean you have to drive at forty.”
“I know.”
“And if the weather's bad, you should pull over and wait for it to clear up a little.”
“Thank you for everything,” I reply, stepping toward her and giving her a brief hug. “Breakfast was lovely each morning. I'm just sorry you had that mess to clean at the church.”
“Oh, it's not the first time I've had to pick up the pieces after someone caused a commotion,” she mutters. “Lord knows, even in a sleepy little town like Curridge, there are always things to be doing.”
I step back and open the car door.
“You won't be back, will you?” Dorothy adds.
I pause, before shaking my head.
“That's good,” she continues. “Best leave this place behind you now. I shall be keeping an eye out for your next book, however. I read the one about the haunted house almost in one sitting, it was that good!”
“Thank you.”
“I'll be starting the one about the asylum tonight.”
“That one isn't so popular,” I tell her. “Maybe give it a miss.”
“Nonsense, dear,” she replies, patting my arm before turning to shuffle back toward the pub. “I'm sure it's wonderful.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” I tell her, before spotting a figure coming out of Dora Ohme's cottage. Without even thinking, I raise a hand and wave at Graham.
He's carrying a pile of books, which might be way he doesn't wave back at me. But from the look in his eyes, I can tell that he doesn't like the fact that I'm leaving. He simply offers a brief, polite nod and then carries the books into the cottage next door. For a moment, I consider hurrying over and telling him that I'm sorry, but somehow I don't think he really wants to hear any more of my excuses. It's clear that he views my departure as a betrayal, and I'm never going to change his mind.
“All set?” Kate asks as I climb into the driver's seat.
“All set.”
I swing the door shut and put the key into the ignition.
“I hope this goes faster than my taxi ride down here,” she mutters. “God, that was boring.”
“We'll be back in London in a few hours' time.”
Just as I'm about to turn the key, Kate puts a hand on my arm.
“Thank you,” she says.
“For what?”
“For letting us get out of here. I never could have left if you were still pottering about in Curridge, and being here...”
She looks past me, toward the beach, and I swear I can see the first hint of tears returning to her eyes.
“Let's get moving,” I say, turning the key and starting the engine, before fastening my seat-belt. “I need to get some petrol before we go too far, and then hopefully we'll reach London before the traffic gets too bad. Back to normality, huh?”
I wait for her to reply, but she's still watching the beach. Finally, realizing that we need to get away from Curridge, I start easing the car out of its spot and then I drive along the bumpy road. A few minutes later, with the town well and truly out of sight, I glance over at Kate and see that her eyes are closed.
She sleeps all the way back to London.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Lizzie
Thirty years ago
Standing in the doorway, I peer through into the bedroom.
Kate is sitting on the bed, and she's playing with Alice. As Alice gurgles and laughs, Kate holds up a toy and gives it a shake, which causes Alice to laugh some more.
They look like normal, happy sisters. For the first time, I'm starting to think that they can move beyond their father's death. As I reach up and check for the hundredth
time that my face is back to normal, and that the incident in the bathroom just now was only a hallucination, I actually feel a flicker of hope.
We're going to be okay.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Alice
Today
“And then Tommo pulled out a sword and cut everyone's throats, before climbing onto the roof of the pub and turning into a kind of half-dragon, half-cat beast.”
“Huh?”
Looking up from my laptop, I find that Brad is standing right next to me, holding a glass of wine in each hand.
“So you can hear my voice,” he continues with a faint smile. “I was starting to think I might be turning into a ghost.”
“Sorry,” I reply, realizing that I've been barely paying any attention to him all evening. I look back at my laptop, where I have a file open containing the half-complete manuscript for my next book. “I just had an idea for the next chapter and I wanted to get it down before I forgot. But it's done now.”
“Relax,” he says, setting one glass on the table before taking a sip from the other. “I know how involved you get with your work, Alice. Besides, I'm used to it lately.”
“Used to it?”
He heads back over to the kitchen counter.
“You've been in a world of your own for a while now,” he continues. “Basically for the past two months, ever since you got back from that seaside place. What was it called again?”
“Curridge,” I reply, and the mere mention of that name sends a shiver down my spine.
“You haven't been the same since you got back.” He starts chopping a red onion for the pot. “It's almost like you left a part of yourself there.”
“Of course I didn't,” I tell him. “I've just been so busy working on this new project, I swear I spend most of my time lost in what I'm writing.”
“The great comeback, eh?”
“Something like that.”
“I'm sure it'll be a huge success.”
“It needs to be,” I reply. “After the asylum book failed, I can't afford a second flop in a row.”
“So do we know who's coming tonight?” he asks, checking his watch. “Tom and Catherine said they'd arrive around seven, and Mark and David said they're definitely on their way.” He picks up the chopping board and tips the sliced onion into the pot that's already sizzling on the stove. “Any word on you-know-who?”
“No,” I reply, checking my phone and seeing that Kate still hasn't replied to my last few messages. “Maybe I should head over and make sure she's okay.”
***
“Come on, Kate,” I mutter, stepping back from her front door and looking up at the darkened windows of the upstairs rooms, “answer your bloody phone.”
I wait a moment, until I'm once again put through to her voicemail and then I cut the call.
“Kate!” I shout. “Are you home?”
Again I wait, but I'm starting to think that this is a wild goose chase. When I pulled up outside, I thought I saw one of the upstairs lights blinking off, but now I'm not so sure. There's no way Kate would be hiding from me, and I keep telling myself that I'm probably overreacting. Sure, she's been a little evasive recently, and I've only actually seen her a handful of times, but I guess that's a good thing. She's getting on with her life.
“Fine,” I say with a sigh, turning to walk away, “just -”
Suddenly I hear a key in the lock behind me, and I turn just as the door swings open. Before I can say anything, however, I see that Kate looks utterly dazed, and the hallway behind her is completely dark. In fact, although she's home, there's not a light on anywhere in the house.
“Hey,” I say cautiously, unable to shake a sliver of concern, “what are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she replies, rubbing her eyes. She seems sleepy. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“You haven't been replying to my messages,” I point out. “Brad and I are having a little dinner party this evening and I wondered if you wanted to swing by. Maybe you could meet a few new people?”
“I don't know whether I feel up to anything tonight.”
“Are you sure you're okay?”
Stepping closer, I place a hand against her forehead and feel that she's a little clammy.
“Have you seen a doctor?” I ask.
She gently pushes my hand away. “I don't need a doctor.”
“When was the last time you left the house?” I continue, before noticing a faint musty smell, like mildew mixed with pee. “When was the last time you showered?”
“I'm fine,” she replies, sounding a little defensive. “You don't need to worry about me.”
“I don't, huh?” I pause for a moment. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“I thought you had to get back for a dinner party?”
“I do, but I'd like to pop in first, if that's okay.”
She hesitates, and then finally she steps back so that I can go into the hallway.
“Thanks,” I reply, heading into the house and quickly flicking the switch on the wall. The light flickers to life above us, and I immediately see that the place is a mess. There are dirty cups and plates dotted about, with some even on the stairs, and when I look through to the kitchen I see that dishes are piled high in the sink. “Having a slow day?” I ask, turning to my sister and seeing that she's squinting, as if she's unused to the light. “Kate?”
“I wasn't expecting visitors,” she replies, shutting the front door. “You didn't tell me you were coming.”
“Sorry about that,” I mutter, heading to the next door and flicking another switch. As soon as the light comes on in the kitchen, I see that the house is in a much worse state than I'd realized, with moldy food rotting on the counters and some kind of brown liquid smeared across one of the walls. “What the hell's going on here, Kate?”
“Yeah, I know,” she says, stepping up behind me. “I should be a little tidier.”
“A little tidier?” I step into the middle of the room and look around at the mess. “It stinks in here. It's unsanitary. Kate, you're usually so house-proud. What happened?”
“I got behind.”
I turn to her. “Behind?”
“I've been busy!”
“Too busy to keep the place fit for human habitation?”
“I didn't realize you'd come over to criticize me,” she says tersely. “Listen, I'll tidy up tomorrow, okay? Drop by unannounced again later in the week, and I'm sure the house will be up to your high standards.”
“It's not about -”
“Is there something you wanted?” she adds, interrupting me. “Sorry, Alice, but I was in the middle of something and I'd really like to get back to it.”
“What were you in the middle of?”
She stares at me blankly, as if she has no idea how to answer.
“Stuff,” she says finally.
“Stuff?”
“Do I have to tell you everything?”
“No, but -”
I catch myself just in time, before I actually point out that in the past we always talked about what was going on in her lives. To be fair, over the past few months Kate has begun to get more and more secretive, to the point that I started to wonder whether she was actively avoiding me. Finally, tonight, I guess I'm getting my answer.
“I'm worried about you,” I tell her.
“Don't be.”
“But if -”
“The place is a mess,” she continues. “You're right. I let it get out of hand, and I'm sorry. Swing by tomorrow and it'll all be spotless. Now don't you have a dinner party to get to? The last thing I want is to cause problems for your precious social life.”
“Kate...”
“I'm fine,” she adds. “Sure, I'm a little untidy right now, but I'll fix that. I'm your big sister, remember? I'm the one who should be worried about you, and bossing you around.”
She comes over and puts her hands on my shoulders.
“There's nothing to worry about, Alice. Now go get back to your pa
rty.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Lizzie
Thirty years ago
“And there we go,” I say as I finish fixing Alice's nappy, “you're all -”
Feeling a sudden burst of pain in the left side of my head, I let out a gasp, but the sensation is already over. Still, it was stronger than ever for a moment, and a cold sweat has broken out across my forehead.
On the changing table, Alice lets out a happy gurgle.
“I'm okay,” I tell her, worried that even at her young age she might be able to pick up on my discomfort. “It's fine, Alice. Mummy's fine.”
She gurgles again, and I'm pretty sure she's fine.
“There's no need to be scared,” I explain, as I lift her up and give her a hug. “Mummy's going to look after you forever.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Alice
Today
“Well, I liked your last book,” Brad's sister Catherine says as I refill her wine glass. “I thought it was different to the first one, but there's nothing wrong with that.”
“The new one's going to be more like the first,” I tell her. “Apparently that's what people want.”
Before anybody can say anything else, there's a sudden rumble in the distance. I look over at the window, but all I see is the lights of the city burning through the night air.
“Was that thunder?” Brad asks.
“Maybe we're finally going to get that storm,” Catherine mutters. “I feel like it's been building up forever.”
“It has, hasn't it?” I reply, turning to her. “Has it rained even once in the past two months?”
“Hosepipe ban ahead,” Brad's friend Mark says, rolling his eyes.
“I wouldn't mind a nice big storm soon,” Catherine continues, “to really bring the temperature down. It's been so warm lately.”
Feeling a buzz in my pocket, I realize I've received a new message. Ordinarily I'd never think to check my phone during dinner, but something feels off tonight so I slip the phone out and take a look. To my surprise, I see that there's a message from a number I don't know, and I think I recognize the number as one that's tried to call me a few times lately. I immediately flinch as I see the message itself: