“The locker room,” I answered. “One of those porters was… my dad.” I looked away, unwilling to see Jude’s expression. I didn’t want to see the look of disgust over his face when he realised that my dad had worked for Doctor Middleton. I felt ashamed and worried that he would think bad of me – think I was a part of all this.
Jude took a deep breath and sighed. “Did you know he worked at Cruor Pharma?”
“No – never had a clue,” I said, avoiding his eyes, watching the flames swirl up the chimney.
“Which one is he?” asked Jude.
“That one.” I pointed out my dad.
“He never told you anything about it? Never said anything at all?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Never. I don’t ever remember him working anywhere. He was always drunk.” I took a deep breath and found some courage inside me to face Jude. I couldn’t avoid his stare any longer. It was too late to take back what I had confided in him. “The date on the back suggests he must have worked at Cruor Pharma when I was a baby, but from what little information we have found out about Cruor Pharma, what I don’t get is why Middleton didn’t kill him. Why let him go when he could have been a risk and spoke out about what was happening at the hospital?”
“It seems that your dad had a lucky escape,” said Jude, handing me back the photo. “Somehow he managed to slip past Middleton and the others and live the rest of his life or maybe…” Jude stopped mid-sentence.
“Maybe what?” I whispered, searching his eyes for that look of disgust I had been expecting to see. But it wasn’t there, just a faint flicker of shadow cast from the fire and the darkening day.
“Maybe they thought they were safe enough, what, with your dad being a pisshead,” Jude said.
I flinched at his comment. It hurt. I had said it myself so many times but hearing someone else say it – someone who didn’t know my dad hurt – ripped at my heart. I suddenly felt protective over my father.
“He doesn’t look like a pisshead here though, does he?” I snapped, tucking the photo back inside the satchel.
“I guess not,” said Jude, completely oblivious that he had hurt my feelings. “So who looked after you while your dad worked at Cruor Pharma?”
“I don’t remember… I guess it would have been my mum,” I whispered, hating the fact that I really had no idea – that I knew nothing about my mother. It was like searching an empty void – looking into a black hole and just finding nothing. Why had my dad told me so little about her? It seemed impossible to fix the jigsaw when there really weren’t very many pieces to play with. I tried to conjure up a timeline in my head. My dad worked at Cruor Pharma in my first few years and my mum must have been the one who looked after me. Judging by the photo of my dad, he wasn’t a drunk then, so what made him turn to the bottle and why did he leave Cruor Pharma? The only theory I could come up with was that my mum must have died and that’s why he left his job to bring me up. Did my dad turn to the bottle because of my mother’s death? Or was he trying to drown out something else? Something that he had seen at Cruor Pharma? Well that wouldn’t surprise me – I had seen plenty in a short space of time at that place and I certainly felt like having a drink. But why had I always felt like it was because of me that my dad drank himself to unconsciousness? What part did I play in all this? Remembering the things that Carly had said to me when I had been trapped inside that room with her came to the forefront of my mind. She had said some wicked things and what bothered me the most was that some of them were true. But had she been right about what she had said regarding my mother? Had she dumped me? Did my mum want me dead? I crossed my legs and rested my chin on my hands. So many questions had my head spinning – my heart aching.
“Listen, Kassidy,” whispered Jude. “Don’t hate your dad for working at Cruor Pharma, most people in Holly Tree are employed at that place. Whatever made him turn to the bottle will probably never be discovered. Don’t waste your life living under that shadow – leave it in the past. I’ve left my shadow and I intend on making the most of it – well as soon as we find a way out of the mess we’re in.” Jude stood up and walked back to the window.
What shadow had Jude left? I could only assume he was talking about his own father and how his dad couldn’t be bothered with him. Jude had left his father and I guessed that was his way of leaving the past behind him and escaping the shadow that had hung over his life. But could I really do that? Forget about my parents? I didn’t think so. Especially now that I had found out about my dad working for Cruor Pharma and not knowing anything about my mum. It was like an ache – a pain that wouldn’t go away. A part of my life was missing and the other half – my dad’s half – had been shrouded in a drunken mystery.
I stood up and joined Jude at the window. The cloudy grey sky had turned hazy like a misty lens had been placed over it. The atmosphere outside had changed from the bright autumn sunshine I had stared out upon when I had woken this morning. There almost seemed to be something lingering – something coming. I looked at Jude. Could he feel it too? Was that why he kept coming to the window? Did he have that same feeling that I now felt – a warning – a danger signal – an inner sense that only someone could feel after they had spent time inside Cruor Pharma?
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
“Have we made the biggest mistake ever by coming here?” I placed my hand on Jude’s arm. “Have we been here too long?”
“I don’t know,” whispered Jude, turning to face me. “But the sooner we get away the better. We can’t leave now, it’s too late to be wandering around the countryside at night with no car, but I think we should leave at first light – without the car. I know we don’t want to leave on foot but I don’t think we have the time to go bussing into Rane and then bus back and fix the wheels. I only hope that this bad feeling I’ve got plays out to be nothing. I hope it’s just paranoia that’s making me feel on edge.” He looked back outside, his eyes wandered from the ash trees to the gravel driveway that twisted away out of sight behind the thick canopy of branches. “We’ll leave in the early hours before the bishop or Mrs. Gables wake up. We won’t tell them. Let them believe we’re catching the bus at 10:30. If it was Mrs. Gables trying to keep us here then I think its best we keep quiet about our real plan – don’t you?”
I nodded my head in agreement. We had enough people after us without Mrs. Gables adding to the list.
As if on cue, Mrs. Gables suddenly appeared at the door. Had she heard us? Did she know our true plan of leaving in the early hours? If she did, she didn’t let on.
She walked in carrying a tray filled with several plates of sandwiches and jam tarts.
“The bishop won’t be eating with you tonight,” she glared, placing the tray down onto the coffee table.
“Why, has he gone out?” I asked, staring at her with a matching glare.
“No, he’s a busy man and has important work to do,” she huffed, taking the plates from the tray and clattering them down on the table. The noise woke Max up. He sat bolt upright as if he’d had an electric shock. His hair was ruffled up like he’d been spinning around in a washing machine.
“How long have I been asleep?” He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“Long enough to sleep till dinner,” answered Jude, taking a sandwich and waving it in front of Max.
“Where’s Raven?” he asked, swinging his legs from off the sofa and reaching for a sandwich.
“She huffed off to bed in one of her freaky moods,” said Jude, pushing a whole jam tart into his mouth. “She’s pissed off because we’re staying here another night.”
“That little Madame should be grateful she’s got somewhere to stay.” Mrs. Gables stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips and her narrow cheeks puffed out as she glared at each of us. “The bishop didn’t have to take you in, but he did. You should all show some respect for his kindness.”
Fearing that there was going to be another argument with Mrs. Gables, I stood up and went to place my hand on her arm. I wa
nted to smooth things over with her. I didn’t want to go to bed later worrying that she was gonna get us in our sleep. I wanted some reassurance that there would be no more trouble from her. Even though we had no firm evidence that it had been her who had slashed the tyres, I strongly suspected that it had been the work of Mrs. Gables.
“Mrs. Gables,” I started, “we are very grateful…” My fingers brushed the skin across her hand and she flinched backwards almost toppling over.
“Don’t touch me!” she spat, her eyes wide with fear as stared down at my black veins and twisted fingernails.
“It’s not catching,” I said, pulling my hand away. “You can’t get this unless you’ve been injected with it.”
“I know that,” snapped Mrs. Gables. “I know it’s not some kind of infection. I’ve seen what it does and I don’t want any of you near me when you change…” She took another step away from me.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Change?”
She shook her head, “I mean… I…”
“What?” I pushed “Tell me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything!” she snapped, turning away and hastily leaving the room.
“What the fuck was that about? I really don’t get what that woman wants,” said Jude. “Either she wants us to stay or she doesn’t. Which one is it?”
“What I want to know is what did she mean by us changing?” I said, looking at Jude and Max. “She seems pretty clued up as to what this drug can do to someone.”
“Well she would,” said Jude, eating another sandwich. “Robert and his lot turned up here – didn’t they.”
“Yes, but they all left,” I said. “The bishop told us they were in a bad way but they all left.”
“What are you getting at, Kassidy?” asked Max.
“If they left, they wouldn’t have changed – they would be like us. But if they had changed then they would have gone round this house and killed and eaten everyone in it. They would have been like Howard and Wendy.” I sat down on the sofa and picked up a ham sandwich. “She’s seen one of them change.”
“No way,” said Jude. “That’s not possible. Like you just said – they would have killed the bishop and Mrs. Gables. There’s no controlling someone who can’t take VA20 or VA10.”
“And besides,” said Max, leaning forward on the sofa, “how do you explain Sylvia? We know she left here and if she had been the one to change then she would have finished off the bishop and Mrs. Gables before she fled.”
“The bishop told us they all headed for Doctor Langstone,” said Jude. “There’s no reason why he would lie. I just think that Mrs. Gables is one of those people who can’t stand others that are different – she’s old-fashioned – set in her ways. She’s probably one of those busy-bodies you get in a small village who gives a new resident the cold shoulder – thinks of them as strangers.”
I took a bite of my sandwich. I wasn’t so sure. There had been something in Mrs. Gables’s eyes that told me she had seen more than just Robert, Alex, and Sylvia with veins like ours. There had been fear across her face. I remembered the conversation we’d had with the bishop the night before. When Raven had been quizzing him over the state of the others, she had asked him if they had been like zombies and the bishop had said no. So what did Mrs. Gables mean?
I looked over at the window. It was now pitch black outside. I wished for the morning. I had believed that we would find a place of safety here away from the cleaners but now it felt like there was something to fear inside this house. I no longer felt secure, and what worried me more was if I would ever find such a place – somewhere protected – out of harm’s way.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Standing in the large hall, the flames in the fireplace seemed smaller. Mrs. Gable’s usual inferno was more like a dying campfire. The brass bucket that housed the coals was missing. Maybe she had taken it to refill.
I looked up into the dark void at the top of the staircase and waited for Max or Jude to find a torch. They had wandered off down a narrow hall in the hope that they might find something to light our way upstairs.
We had spent the last few hours sat in the snug. Max and I had taken it in turns to throw on more coals when the scattering noise had sounded over the music that played from the radio. Jude had taken up permanent residence at the window. For someone who had scoffed at the idea of the cleaners and everything paranormal yesterday, he seemed more on edge than the rest of us.
Raven hadn’t made an appearance and I guessed she was still sulking upstairs. I had put aside some of Mrs. Gables’s sandwiches for her – not that she would probably eat them for fear of being poisoned, but it was the thought that counted.
We hadn’t seen or heard the bishop all evening and Mrs. Gables had avoided us since our heated encounter in the snug earlier on. I wondered what kind of work was keeping the bishop up so late. I had poked my head around the door to his study to say goodnight but he hadn’t been in there. Maybe he was working up in his bedroom.
Apart from the crackle of the flames, the house was silent. The large hall glowed an eerie shadowy-orange across the stone walls, almost making the pictures on the hanging tapestries come alive.
I was feeling anxious. I wanted to get into our room. I felt vulnerable standing in this hall with its high ceiling and numerous doors leading off in all directions. I didn’t like the fact that you couldn’t see up past half the staircase or if someone was standing on the landing overlooking the banister into the hall. For all I knew, Mrs. Gables could be up there watching me with her carving knife.
“Don’t be silly,” I muttered under my breath. I was beginning to sound like Raven. I paced back and forth. My eyes wandered from one door to the next. They looked like black openings concealing dark, ghostly monsters waiting to jump out at me. I tried to ignore them by humming to myself. The sound comforted me – made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that this was just any old evening back at my flat where I would be listening to music or watching the T.V.
My humming was cut short when I heard a noise coming from the lounge. I strained my eyes toward the black doorway and listened. My heart had picked up pace and my arms were scattered with goose-bumps. I took a few steps nearer. Silence.
“Enough of this,” I scolded myself. “This isn’t Cruor Pharma.” I headed for the lounge. When I stood in the doorway, I could see nothing but the grey shapes of old furniture and the unused fireplace. I grabbed the handle and pulled the door shut.
“May as well do the rest,” I said, heading for the door which led into the dining room. After I had got rid of every dark opening I could, I let out a sigh of relief.
“That’s better,” I whispered, trying to ignore the darkness at the top of the stairs. I chewed on my lower lip – where the hell had Jude and Max got to? It felt like I had been waiting forever. Just as I was about to start humming again, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from the narrow hallway. I turned to face it, taking a few steps back – hoping it was my friends and nothing else. I felt my lips turn up into a smile as I spotted Jude and then Max appearing from the darkness. They smiled back at me and waved a candlestick in the air.
“We have light,” Max beamed, taking a match from a box and lighting the candle. It did little to brighten the hall but maybe it would work better when we were upstairs finding our way to the bedroom down those dark corridors.
I felt Jude take my hand. “Come on, let’s go find our room.”
Max led the way. We followed close behind. Each step up the staircase produced a creaky groan. It was impossible to avoid – no matter where you stepped the creaks kept coming.
We reached the top and I felt a huge sense of relief to see that Mrs. Gables wasn’t up here slashing her knife about. As we turned left, a rattling noise coming from the other end of the corridor stopped us dead in our tracks. We all turned to face the direction from where it had come. Max came to the back of me and Jude and held up the flickering candle light, illuminating the end of the corr
idor.
“What’s down there?” whispered Max, holding the candle first to the left and then to the right.
“It’s another staircase that leads down to the ground floor and goes up to the third floor,” I whispered. “I came across it this morning when you were all still asleep.”
“Did you go up?” asked Jude.
“Yes, but you can’t go any further then the top of the stairs. There’s a door which has been padlocked,” I said, letting go of Jude’s hand and stepping in front of Max. I took another few steps toward the end of the corridor.
“Why tell us not to go up to the third floor when you…” Max begun.
I cut him off. “Shhh…I can hear something.” We stood silent and listened. By the time we had realised that it was footsteps it was too late to turn and hide. We all jumped when the bishop appeared at the bottom of the third floor staircase. He looked as shocked to see us as we were to see him.
“My goodness… you gave me a fright,” said the bishop, coming toward us.
“We were just going to bed,” said Max, holding the candle up so we could see the bishop clearly.
“We heard a noise and wondered what it was,” said Jude, eyeing the bishop with a wary gaze. “I thought you said that you didn’t use the third floor.”
“I… I don’t,” the bishop smiled. “But I thought I could hear something up there and I checked it out and didn’t find anything… probably another bird I suspect. Well… I’ll let you all go to bed.” He looked down at his hands and brushed them off against his trousers. They were covered in black dirt. He laughed nervously. “It’s very dirty up there. Hasn’t been cleaned for nearly three months – full of dust. Anyway – goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning – oh and make sure you keep those fires burning – there’s a real chill in the air tonight” He turned away and disappeared into a room, locking the door behind him.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Dwell (Kassidy Bell Series Book 2) Page 16