CHAPTER 11
Although her stomach still felt uneasy, Chase recovered. Once or twice she thought she heard a faint humming sound in the distance, like a swarm of angry bees, but she put it down to her imagination, which was now running riot. She wished she’d never found that damn diary. Was beginning to wish she hadn’t accompanied Drake out here.
She also wished that Adam was coming here rather than meeting her in the pub because she was still wary of venturing outside. Whether there was someone lurking outside was now irrelevant; her mind assured her there was.
It was now 6.45 p.m. She didn’t like being late for dates (she suddenly realised that’s what it was, a date, and she blushed, glad that no one was around to see), but she didn’t know whether she could pluck up the courage to leave the house.
She had already got ready to go out, but now she wondered whether a short, black skirt and a tight halter-top were appropriate, especially as she wasn’t wearing a bra. It might give Adam the wrong idea. Should she really be showing so much flesh? After all, this wasn’t the city. People seemed more conservative in the country and they might think she dressed like a tart. She didn’t want to give the wrong impression, but she did look good, so eventually she decided to stick with what she was wearing, and to hell with what people thought.
It was still light outside, and she berated herself for being nervous about leaving the house. Nothing bad was going to happen to her – certainly not in daylight, anyway.
Keeping that thought in mind, she picked up her bag, took a deep breath, unlocked the door and left the house.
She scanned the hedgerows, her heart racing. Seeing no one around, she began to relax and she locked the door and headed down the lane.
At the thought of meeting Adam, butterflies danced in her stomach and she felt like a nervous schoolgirl. How long was it since she’d been on a date? She hoped he was worth it. To hell with Mat. She had a life to lead, too. Even though she tried not to, she cast sidelong glances at the trees and bushes, still wary of being watched.
Walking past Belinda’s house, she noticed the curtains twitch and she absently remembered that she hadn’t kept her appointment for tea. Not that she was too concerned. It wasn’t a definite date.
Before she had taken another ten steps something hit her on the head. Chase winced and spun around, alarmed to see Belinda standing in the doorway of her house with cakes in her hands, her pinched face red with fury. She was wearing a dress that had seen better days, the pattern almost indiscernible after countless washes, and she wore slippers fashioned to look like rabbits. Her grey hair was long and straggly, giving her an even more alarming appearance.
“Burned they are. Ruined. And it’s all your fault,” Belinda screeched, throwing another cake that Chase ducked to avoid.
“I’m sorry.” Disturbed by Belinda’s behaviour, Chase felt her face drain of colour. She didn’t know what to do.
“Sorry, I’ll give you sorry my girl.” She threw another cake like a grenade, crumbs flying like shrapnel as it hit a tree.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Chase began to run down the lane. She was terrified. The look on Belinda’s face was murderous. A passage from the diary ran through her head: I killed her. We killed her. They killed her. It killed her.
What the hell was going on?
She looked over her shoulder, relieved to see that the screeching harridan wasn’t following her. In different circumstances, the situation might be funny. But after what she had read in the diary, it was anything but. She slowed her pace, wheezing slightly.
When she eventually reached the Slaughtered Dog and entered the bar, she was breathing heavily. She knew she must look a state, but she wasn’t bothered. She just wanted the safety afforded by other people, even if she didn’t know them.
I killed her. We killed her. They killed her.
Although still light outside, inside the public house it was dark and dismal. She approached the bar brushing crumbs from her hair. George was sitting where she had seen him last time. He was still wearing the same stained, checked shirt. He regarded Chase with a scowl before hobbling toward her.
“Yes?” he grunted.
“I’ll get these.”
Chase turned to see Belinda standing behind her and she recoiled in alarm, her mouth open. She didn’t know what to do. “Honestly, I forgot all about tea,” she blurted, taking a wary step back.
“Tea?” Belinda said, scowling. “I just want to buy you a drink to say welcome to the village. Don’t you want one?”
Chase was confused and scared. “No, no of course not. I mean, yes, yes, I’ll have, erm, white wine please.” She didn’t feel she could refuse. And she definitely wasn’t going to mention the cakes.
“White wine George. And one for me as well.”
George poured two white wines and slopped them on the counter. Belinda picked hers up and began to drink while George stood holding his hand out, waiting to be paid. Obviously not everything in Paradise was free.
Time passed excruciatingly slowly as George stared at Chase and she didn’t know what to do. She noticed Belinda didn’t appear to be making any move to pay for the drinks so she took the money from her own purse and paid. It was all too surreal.
“There, isn’t that better,” Belinda said, delicately fingering the stem of the glass as she looked Chase up and down.
Chase had a vision of Belinda smashing the glass into her face and she backed away slightly, putting a bit of distance between them. Nonchalantly she stared around the bar, hoping to see if there was anyone around who could come to her assistance if anything happened, but it was too dark to see.
“Am I boring you?” Belinda asked, her expression hardening into a scowl.
Chase turned to face her. “No, of course not. I was just meant to be meeting someone here.”
“And who might that be?”
“Doctor White.”
“Doctor White! Are you ill?”
“Ill?”
“Yes, you know, is there something wrong with you?”
“No, not at all.” Knowing that she really had been unwell lately, and that she was lying, made her feel slightly guilty for some reason.
“Why else would you see a doctor then? Two blacks don’t make a white. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“Pardon?” Chase didn’t understand. Was Belinda alluding to Adam’s and her surname?
“I said isn’t it your round.”
“But I bought the last one.” As soon as she’d said it, she regretted it.
“Well that’s rich. Did you hear that George. You go out of your way to make someone welcome, and they throw——”
“Sorry I’m late.”
Chase turned at the sound of Adam’s voice. He stood behind her wearing a brown jumper and dark, corduroy trousers, and she had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.
“I had a call out at the last minute. Have I missed anything? I hope you’re making our newest resident feel welcome, Belinda.”
“Doctor White. Would I do anything else? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some cakes in the oven.” She gave Chase a vitriolic sidelong glance before walking out of the bar.
“I’m glad to see you’re settling in and getting to know people. You look fantastic by the way,” Adam said.
Chase didn’t know what to say. She nodded acquiescently and downed her drink. She didn’t feel fantastic. Should she tell Adam what had happened?
Adam frowned. “Are you sure you should be drinking alcohol like that?”
“I don’t usually, but I needed that. By the way ...” Here goes, she thought, trying to find a way to broach the subject of Belinda’s peculiar behaviour.
“I mean ... no, forget I said anything.” He twiddled with his thumbs.
“Forget what? What’s wrong?” Looking at Adam’s expression, she forgot all about Belinda.
“Nothing. Honestly. Just forget it.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that. I can’t
forget it now. Is there something wrong with me?” The room suddenly seemed to lurch, as though someone had shifted reality. She put her hands on the bar to steady herself, but quickly withdrew them when she found it felt sticky.
“It depends how you define wrong.”
“And how would you define it?” The room began to spin.
“Well, I shouldn’t really tell you here. It’s not ethical. You’re booked in to see me tomorrow, so let’s leave it until then.”
“And I’m seeing you now. I can’t go away worrying that something’s wrong with me.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have started this, but perhaps we should sit down first.”
They walked over to a table and Chase collapsed gratefully into the chair. The room was still spinning, but at least now she didn’t have as far to fall if she succumbed.
“Chase, you’re pregnant.”
“What?” Had she heard him right?
“You’re pregnant.”
“That’s what I thought you said. You can’t be serious. I mean ...” she tried to laugh, but it came out more as a gasp. “Are you sure?” She shook her head and the room lurched again.
“Yes. Positive.”
“But the last time I had sex was four months ago.” She couldn’t believe she just said that. She was sitting here with a man she liked, and he was telling her she was going to have a baby. He must be wrong, she decided. The last man she slept with had been Mat, but that would mean ... Her clothes suddenly seemed very out of place. She felt sick. Now she needed a drink. A large one. A very large one.
“Chase, are you okay?”
“Yes, it’s just... I don’t believe it. Are you really, positively sure?” He must have made a mistake.
Adam nodded.
“But I was on the pill.”
“Well, it isn’t one hundred percent safe.”
She looked down at her stomach and placed both hands on it. There was a slight increase in her size, but she’d put that down to bingeing after being made redundant; although she hadn’t had a period in while, she had never been regular, had thought it was stress induced. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing and tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t know whether she was happy or sad. Where was Mat when she needed him?
“Let me get you a drink. A soft drink,” he added, walking away to the bar.
Chase couldn’t take her eyes off her stomach. Was there really something growing in there? Had she all ready harmed it (was it a boy or a girl?) by drinking to excess and frequenting smoky public houses? Was it going to be okay? She wanted her Mum. She wanted her friends with her. She wanted Jane. She wanted Mat. She wanted anyone she knew well enough to discuss it with. The questions she had planned to ask Adam about who had previously lived in High Top Cottage now seemed irrelevant. She was going to have a baby. Mat’s baby. Where the hell was he when she needed him? Had he found himself another girlfriend? A pang of jealousy shot through her as she imagined him with someone else.
Returning with the drinks, Adam sat down and smiled. “Feeling any better?”
“I thought you said the results would take a couple of days.”
“I know but I rushed them through as I knew you were concerned.”
Chase sipped the orange juice Adam had bought her. She felt as though she was in a dream and would wake up any minute. Mat would be lying next to her, snoring slightly, his wavy hair sticking up in all directions. She closed her eyes, willing herself to wake.
“Are you okay?”
Chase opened her eyes. Nothing had changed. “Yes, just a little shocked. I think I need to go home.”
“Would you like me to walk you?”
“No thank ...” She remembered Belinda. Mad Belinda, the cake thrower. “Well, if you don’t mind?” She decided not to question Adam about Belinda. Her head was already spinning, and she didn’t think she could take any more.
“No, of course not.”
Leaving the Slaughtered Dog they walked up the lane without speaking. Chase had too much on her mind. Pregnant. She couldn’t believe it.
Belinda’s house was in darkness, the curtains drawn; Belinda nowhere to be seen. Chase was grateful for that. She didn’t think she could handle any more problems.
“Do you know where the name Slaughter Hill originated?” Adam asked.
Chase shook her head.
“Legend has it that there used to be a coven of witches that lived in a cave in the hill. They were friendly witches, and the locals used to call on them for potions and cures when they were sick. But then one of the witches turned bad. Spurned by her lover, she cast a spell, bewitching the men of the village to do her bidding. They became her sexual slaves, but the women of the village were understandably jealous and late one night they crept up to the cave and chopped all the witches’ heads off – they couldn’t risk another witch turning bad. The bodies were sealed in the cave and the heads were buried at the junction of a river, but sometimes, late at night, people say you can hear the witches fluttering through the sky, looking for their heads.”
Chase shivered and surreptitiously looked up at the sky.
Adam laughed. “It’s only a legend though.”
“Well thank you for sharing that with me. I’ll sleep easy now.”
“Sorry.” Adam sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.
When they reached High Top Cottage, Adam said, “Would you like me to come in?”
“Is that why you told me the story?” she joked, forcing a smile. She shook her head. “Not tonight.” She needed time by herself to think.
“Well, come into the surgery tomorrow, and we’ll have a chat. Call in any time you like, I’ll tell Patricia to expect you.”
Chase nodded, unlocked the door and walked inside. She waved Adam goodbye and he gave her an encouraging smile before disappearing down the lane. She closed the door, locked it and then checked that it was secure before walking through to the lounge to sit on the settee, where she closed her eyes. Her life was in turmoil.
She must have fallen asleep, because a sudden noise woke her with a start.
Darkness had descended; long shadows had slipped uninvited into the room. Once familiar objects took on unnatural shapes in the nocturnal gloom. Dismissing the noise as the tail end of a lucid dream, she was about to close her eyes again when she heard a rattling noise in the kitchen that made her heart stop.
Someone was trying the door handle.
Someone was trying to get into the house.
She tried to remember whether or not she had locked the door, certain that she had, but panicking in case she hadn’t. Remembering Belinda, she wished she had a telephone to call someone for help.
Why are all the bloody phones dead? Come the morning, she decided, she was going to find Moon and demand he get her the hell out of Paradise. Jane had been right.
Too scared to move, she tried to will the person to go away, but she heard the door handle turn again, squeaking and protesting as someone tried to force the door open. She wanted to scream, but that would tell whomever it was, that she was in – and that she was terrified. She didn’t want whoever was out there to know she was scared, as they would feed on her fear, gaining a psychological advantage.
The eaves creaked, sighing as they settled down for the night. Or was someone in the house, walking in the bedroom above, the floorboards protesting as weight was applied to them? Why hadn’t she checked the house when she returned from the pub? Anyone could have got in while she was away. But why would they?
Panic churned her stomach like a turbulent sea, making her feel sick. She thought about the baby and felt a sudden maternal instinct for something she hadn’t known was there a few hours ago. She was going to be a mother. And someone was trying to break into her house. Rage began to replace the fear, nudging it aside as strength flowed back into her limbs. She stood up, cautiously making her way through to the kitchen in time to hear a key turning in the lock.
The door began to open.
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br /> CHAPTER 12
Chase felt giddy. Everything was happening too quickly.
Her heart was beating fast, as though trying to escape from its cage of ribs.
She knew how it felt.
In the ambient light, she could see the door handle turning, the door beginning to open.
Her heart momentarily missed a beat.
Preservation instinct took over as she grabbed a serrated knife from the draining board. The weight of the knife was comforting and she clenched it in her fist, prepared to defend herself against the intruder.
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