The House We Haunted and Other Stories

by Amy Cross

  I think I was dreaming about Lisa again.

  "John," Kelly continues, her voice filled with wonder. "Seriously, come and look!"

  Grabbing my glasses from the bedside table, I haul my tired ass out of bed and stumble naked across the bedroom until I reach the window. It's so bright outside, I can barely see properly, but after blinking a couple of times and getting used to the morning light, I'm finally able to see what has caught Kelly's attention.

  Snow.

  Lots of snow.

  Everywhere.

  It's hard to see where the pavement ends and the street begins. There are a few sets of deep tire tracks running along the road, where brave drivers have tried to make their way through the conditions, but it's clear that most people are taking the cautious approach. Glancing toward the post office, I spot a couple of people trudging along, and I can't help but smile at the difficulty they're having as they desperately try to force their way through the huge piles of snow that have yet to be cleared.

  "I knew the storm was going to be this bad," Kelly continues, "but I thought it'd be, like, trees being uprooted and roads flooding, stuff like that. I mean, to me, that's what a storm is. I didn't know it was going to snow! What the fuck's going on with the weather lately?"

  "I saw something about it on the news," I reply, scratching the back of my head. "It looks..." I pause for a moment as I try to think of the right word. "Deep," I add eventually. "It looks very deep."

  "I can't remember when I saw so much snow," she continues, hurrying to the door and grabbing her dressing gown before heading out onto the landing. "Come on! Let's go and see! It's been years since I got to experience actual snow!"

  Wearily, I slip into my jeans and a shirt before making my way downstairs. I'm pretty sure that I'm too old to get very excited about heavy snowfall, although I suppose there'll be some disruption in the town and maybe even a few extra injuries that'll require my attention. As I reach the kitchen, I feel a cool gust of air rush through the house, and when I get through to the hallway I find that Kelly has opened the front door and is staring with childlike astonishment at the thick layer of snow that fell in the night. I'd prefer to keep the door shut and just get on with things as normal, but Kelly's always been the kind of person who gets wildly enthusiastic over even the slightest little thing.

  It's kind of annoying, and it's one of the main reasons why I'm sure our relationship is ultimately not going to last. Still, it's better to have someone than to be alone.

  "It must be two feet deep," she says, turning to me with a grin. "When was the last time you saw so much snow? I remember it snowing when I was a kid, but I swear it was never like this. Hell, this is monumental! This is... it's just hard to believe!"

  "It's been a while since I saw anything quite like this," I tell her as I join her in the doorway. It takes a moment, but finally I start thinking about Lisa. I haven't heard anything about her since the police came to visit the surgery yesterday, so as far as I know she might well have gone home before it got dark; if she didn't, however, she would have faced very difficult conditions during the storm, and it's hard to think of where she might have been able to take refuge. Certainly not my cabin, that's for sure.

  "Do you remember when you were a kid," Kelly says after a moment, putting an arm around my waist, "and snow meant a day off school? Any time it snowed, my brothers and I had to sit around listening to the local radio station during breakfast, and eventually they'd read out a list of all the local schools that were having a snow day. I swear to God, John, I still get that optimistic, hopeful feeling whenever it snows, even though I know I'm going to have to go to work."

  "Me too," I reply. "A day like this means I'll be busier than ever. People falling over and crashing into things... I'm sure it'll be a riot."

  "English people go nuts in the snow, don't they?" she continues, heading back through to the kitchen. "I used to have friends in Sweden, and when it snowed they'd just carry on with whatever they were doing. Over here, though, everything just seems to grind to a halt."

  I don't reply.

  As she puts the coffee machine on, I stand and stare out at the snow. Already, people are emerging from their houses and looking around, as if they can't quite believe what they're seeing. There's snow everywhere, covering every surface and turning the town into some kind of bright white desert. Beyond the nearby row of houses, the hills rise up toward the white sky, and it's clear that the snowfall must have covered everything for miles. If Lisa was out there on foot, she wouldn't have had a chance, even if she tried to turn back once the worst of the weather hit.

  I can't help wondering if she made it to the cabin. If she was smart, that's exactly where she'd have gone. In my mind's eye, I can see her desperately trying to get the door open before battering at the windows, as a storm of snow and rain howled around her. Reaching into my pocket, I feel the key.

  "What about that girl?" Kelly calls back to me.

  "What girl?" I ask, even though I know what she's talking about.

  "Lisa Barnes," she continues. "You want coffee?"

  "Sure!"

  "Did you hear if Lisa Barnes got home last night?"

  I pause for a moment. "No," I say finally. "I have no idea."

  "God, I'd be so worried if I was her family," she continues. "I mean, if something's happened to her, they'll never find the body while there's all this snow." She pauses, and it's clear from her tone of voice that she's feeling genuinely sad about Lisa. "Can you shovel snow from the garden path before you go to work?" she adds suddenly.

  "Sure," I call back to her.

  "And the back path?"

  "There's no need to do the back too," I reply.

  "Please?"

  "I'll do the front before I go," I tell her with a sigh, "and the back when I get home. Or tomorrow. Something like that." It always annoys me when Kelly nags, and there's no way I'm going to shovel any more snow than is strictly necessary. It'll all melt away eventually.

  "Please do the back at some point," she continues. "I'd just feel better if we can at least get part of the way into the garden. Anyway, it looks bad if we don't make an effort. You know what the neighbors are like around here, John. It only takes the slightest thing and they're off on their high horses."

  "Sure," I reply, taking a deep breath and watching as an elderly woman tries to cross the road. After a few seconds, she gives up and turns back, but finally she tumbles over in a kind of slow-motion slip that sends her thumping into the snow. It's not a hard landing, although she looks quite frail so I guess any kind of fall is cause for concern. As she tries to get up, I figure that she probably isn't too badly hurt, and she can always come to the surgery later if she needs medical treatment. If she called out for help right now, I suppose I'd go, but I'm sure she'll be fine.

  Pushing the door shut, I head through to the kitchen.

  "It might take days for all this snow to melt," Kelly says as she waits for the coffee machine to finish. "Think about that poor girl out there."

  I smile politely, but the truth is, I don't need Kelly's prompting. I'm already thinking about what it must have been like for Lisa if she was caught out there in the storm. I know the land around this town well, and apart from my cabin at the edge of the woods, there's nowhere for a person to take shelter if they get stranded. Sure, she might have made it back to town, which I guess would make everyone happy. Equally, she quite possibly ended up out in the storm, in which case...

  "Do you think she could survive out there?" Kelly asks, almost as if she can read my thoughts.

  "Sure," I reply, figuring that I should pretend to be optimistic, even though it's a lie. "She could."

  Chapter Four

  John

  By the time I get to the surgery, it's already clear that there's been no sign of Lisa. A couple of police cars are parked nearby, at her parents' house, and when I drop into the store to buy my lunch, the mood is somber. It's strange how easily a mood can spread through this town. L
isa wasn't exactly popular, and a lot of people complained about her strange behavior, but now they're all talking about how worried they are.

  Hypocrites.

  Lisa Barnes might have been a photogenic young woman, but her mind was rotten to the core. Years and years of psychotherapy and anti-depression medication had turned her into a complete mess, and although she was quite smart and interesting, she wasn't exactly a great conversationalist. She was paranoid and delusional, and at times I felt that her condition was bordering on schizophrenia. It was a mistake to get involved with her, but from the very first moment I saw her naked body, I knew I'd never be able to resist. If there's a God, I can't understand why he'd put such a tortured mind in such a beautiful form.

  And now she seems to have gone. It's so neat and convenient, I can barely believe it's true.

  "Good morning, Dr. Maynard," says the police officer from yesterday as he catches up with me in the surgery's driveway. "Could I grab a moment?"

  "Sure," I reply, turning to him. "I take it there's been no news about Lisa Barnes?"

  "Not yet," he replies. "I'm afraid she didn't come home tonight, and obviously the weather has made it much more difficult for us to mount an effective search this morning. We'd planned to use helicopters once it became light, but with nearly two feet of snow having fallen overnight, there's clearly no way we'd be able to spot her. I'm worried that we're going to have to wait until the snow has thawed, but that could take days." He pauses, before glancing over his shoulder, almost as if he's worried that we might be overheard. "Do you mind if I run something past you?" he asks, turning back to me. "Unofficially, of course."

  "Of course," I reply with a nod.

  "There are three options here," he continues in hushed tones. "The first is that she came back to town, in which case she might be hiding in a building somewhere. I think this option is quite unlikely, since she probably wouldn't have had time to get back between the storm hitting and the worst of the snow arriving, but we're checking buildings anyway. There's a faint chance she could have broken into a shed or a garage, so we have to explore every possibility even if the odds are heavily stacked against us."

  He pauses.

  "The second option is that she stayed outside, in which case... In your opinion, is there any way that someone could survive these conditions?"

  "Do we know what she was wearing when she disappeared?" I ask.

  "Jeans, a t-shirt, shoes and a thin jacket," he replies.

  "Right," I reply, pretending to give it some deep thought for a moment, even though I know what my answer is going to be. "I don't see how she could survive if she didn't have protective clothing," I say eventually. "You have to remember, her clothes would have become wet very quickly, and then it wouldn't have taken long before her core body temperature started to drop. If she kept the wet clothes on, hypothermia would have set in very quickly. If she took them off, she'd be completely exposed to the elements and she wouldn't have lasted any longer."

  "A choice between two horrible ways to die, then?" he asks.

  "If it's any consolation," I reply, "she might well have become disorientated. If that's the case, she hopefully wouldn't have suffered too much, although I can't be certain." I pause for a moment as I wonder whether or not I should say the next thing. "There's no easy or painless way to freeze to death," I tell him. "It's a miserable way to go."

  "That's what I figured," he continues. "There's the third option, which is that she found some decent shelter somewhere out there, but there's nothing. We've scoured all the maps and we've asked around, but no-one knows of anything that she could have used, not even a goddamn chicken coop."

  I pause again, wondering whether I should mention my cabin. If he knows about that place, or if he finds out about it later, he might be suspicious if I don't say anything. There's another part of me, perhaps a more paranoid part, that worries he might already have made a connection between Lisa and myself, in which case I need to tread carefully. It's little decisions like this that could have huge ramifications if the nature of my relationship with Lisa becomes public knowledge; as her doctor, I was supposed to offer her the help that she needed and refer her to the relevant specialists, but instead I allowed a more personal situation to develop. Even though I had nothing to do with her disappearance and possible death, the breach of ethics alone would be enough to have me struck off.

  "I have a cabin," I tell him eventually, figuring that I should be bold. "It's around the side of the woods. I mean, it's very small, and the chances of someone stumbling onto it are almost too remote to believe, but it might be worth checking."

  "I didn't know there were any cabins around here," he replies.

  "I think it belonged to one of the old gamekeepers," I continue. "It's not marked on any maps, but when I moved to the town, I found that it was for sale. I like hiking, so I purchased it from Mike Helton at the pub. It didn't cost much, and it's good to have a place where I can stop and rest during a long walk through the hills. There's no electricity or running water, but there's a small wood burner and an old bed."

  "Do you keep it locked?"

  "Of course," I reply, "and the windows are reinforced against the strong winds that sometimes develop in the valley. I really don't see how anyone could break in."

  "Any outbuildings?"

  I shake my head.

  "Can you take me up there?" he asks.

  "I have patients all morning -"

  "Then I'll need you to show me its location on a map," he replies, clearly keen to seize the initiative. "I hope you'll understand if we head up there immediately, but every second could be a matter of life and death."

  "Come inside," I tell him, holding the door open, "and I'll show you exactly which route to take. It won't be too easy in this weather, but anything's worth a try. I hope she didn't spot the cabin from a distance and make her way there in the hope that she could find shelter. I'm sure she'd have been frustrated in any attempt to get through the door."

  "Can you let me have the key?" he asks. "I'd like to take a quick look inside when I get up there."

  "Actually," I reply, panicking a little at the thought of him going into the cabin and potentially finding some clue to the affair I've been having with Lisa, "I'm not even sure where the key is right now. It's been so long since I went up there, I've misplaced the damn thing. I'll have a hunt round later, though, and maybe I'll find it."

  "No worries," he replies. "Right now, I'm just grasping at straws. The court of public opinion won't be too kind if we don't at least look busy. I guess you understand that a little, being a doctor and all."

  As we head to my office, I can't help thinking that I'm doing a very good job of acting as if I'm calm and relaxed. The truth is, I've been wondering for a while what to do about Lisa Barnes, and this little series of coincidences means that the matter might have taken care of itself rather neatly. I'm fairly sure that she would have made her way to the cabin eventually, especially once the weather took a turn for the worse, so there's a good chance that the police will find her body in the area. Everyone will assume that she just happened to find the place, in which case I doubt there'll be the kind of long, detailed investigation that might turn up any deeper links between the two of us.

  I'm starting to think that everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Five

  John

  "She's dead," says Len, sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the pub. "I know it's not what anyone wants to hear, but you mark my words, she's a goner."

  "Steady on," Charles replies. "I think it's a little early to be writing the poor girl's obituary just yet."

  "Obituary?" Len says with a grin. "What obituary? Only worthwhile people get an obituary." He takes a swig of his ale. "God knows that girl was just a trouble-maker. Why would anyone write an obituary?"

  "Don't forget her parents," Charles points out. "George and Helen are good people, and they're worried sick. They've had to put up with so much over the
years, what with Lisa's constant bad behavior, but we can't let them overhear us talking like this. If they come to the pub tonight, I want everyone to be as cheerful as possible."

  "You want us to lie?" Len asks.

  "I want you to be encouraging," Charles insists. "Until a body is found, we have to maintain hope."

  "Hope doesn't change anything," Len says darkly. "It just drags things out."

  "Let's get a doctor's opinion," Charles says, turning to me in an obvious attempt to draw everyone's attention away from Len's rather morbid rant. "John, can you give us any hope at all? She could have found a way to survive out there, couldn't she? I mean, this is Scotland, not the darkest reaches of Siberia."

  I take a deep breath. It's clear that he's desperate for me to give some crumb of comfort, but I'm not quite sure what to say.

  "Well," I reply after a moment, "it's been almost two days since she disappeared, and with the storm..." I pause as I realize that half the people in the pub seem to have turned to listen to me, which I guess is only natural; most of the people in this town are fairly simple people, so obviously they look up to me as a learned and intelligent man, even if some of them are suspicious of my youth. "I know it's not the best news," I continue, "but I'd say it's almost impossible for anyone to survive out there without any form of shelter."

  "Exactly," Len mutters from the corner.

  "But it's still possible, right?" Charles asks. "I'm sure there are a few places out there that might have afforded at least a modicum of protection. She might just be waiting out the rest of the bad weather. For all we know, she heard the storm was coming and packed for a bit of a trek. She wasn't a daft girl, was she?"

  I open my mouth to reply, but I'm not entirely sure what he wants me to say. "I can't give you false hope," I tell him eventually. "The best-case scenario is that maybe she was helped by someone. Maybe she ran away with some boyfriend that no-one knew about, and they're miles away by now. If she just walked out of her parents' house and tried to run away on her own, I don't see how she could have survived once the bad weather hit."