New Title 1

by Jeffrey, Shaun

  “Your parents agreed to a period of rehabilitation, courtesy of Storm Enterprises.”

  “You’re lying. They wouldn’t believe that.”

  “But they do. Teenage angst can easily be modified into drug dependency in the eyes of those who don’t know the truth.”

  “But why? Why keep us here?” Ratty asked.

  “Because after you tell people what you’ve seen, people will start asking questions, and we can’t have that, not now.”

  “But we won’t tell anyone,” Izzy sniffled.

  “I know, because you won’t have the chance. Take them away, Drake.”

  “You can’t do this,” Ratty shouted.

  “Can and have, Peter.”

  “Well, what about when you do let us go? What will stop us telling people then?”

  “Well, then it’ll be too late. The experiment will have finished and we’ll be gone. People won’t even know we’ve been here.”

  “Experiment? What experiment?”

  Moon tapped his nose and shook his head.

  “People already know something’s going on. Fog doesn’t hang around for nearly two years.”

  “People will believe whatever they’re told. They prefer it that way. Let someone else worry about it. Paradise is too far off the beaten track for people to bother about. It’s a village selected for its high propensity of older residents, most of which have no relatives outside of the village. It’s a unique place in that the people who live there, stay there. Generations of the same family live side by side, never falling far from the nest. Any relatives outside the village, like your father, are, shall we say, placated. We didn’t stick a pin in a map. Paradise is ideal for our experiment. Secluded and close-knit with little possibility of outside interference.”

  Experiment! The word conjured images Ratty would rather not see.

  “Then why has someone been brought in to live in my granddad’s house from outside the area?”

  “Ah, Miss Black. Now that’s another matter entirely ...”

  CHAPTER 16

  Chase woke with a start. She opened her eyes and looked around to find she was lying in a double bed in unfamiliar surroundings. She frowned, confused. Where was she? And how did she get here?

  She threw back the duvet to find she was wearing checked pyjamas, which were at least two sizes too big for her. She rolled the pyjama sleeves up and slipped out of bed. The curtains were drawn, but enough daylight filtered through to allow her to see clearly. At the foot of the bed stood a wardrobe and an ottoman on which her clothes had been neatly folded. She undressed quickly, momentarily inspecting the small swell of her stomach before dressing in her own clothes.

  The recollection of the vicar suddenly flashed through her head like a bullet and she keeled over, clutching her abdomen as though she had been shot. She thought she was going to be sick. When the pain and nausea subsided, she walked to the door and quietly opened it to look out on a dark landing with two doors leading off it and a staircase leading down.

  The sound of a toilet being flushed made her start and a door opened. Adam stepped out, smiling as he rolled the sleeves of his black top down.

  “Back with us I see. How are you feeling?”

  “The vicar, did you find the body?”

  Adam shook his head. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”

  “Did you find the vicar?”

  “Yes. The vicar’s fine.”

  “But I saw him ...”

  “Chase, you’re emotional at the moment. A lot has happened to you in the last week. You’ve moved house and found out you’re pregnant. These two events both rate highly on the stress scale. Having them both together, it’s no wonder you ...”

  “But I saw him.” She didn’t understand.

  “The mind is capable of playing cruel tricks.”

  “But he was dead.” Hadn’t she seen him? She thought about the diary and the madness within its pages.

  “Come on, let’s go downstairs. You need a drink.”

  Chase meekly followed him, unable to believe what she was hearing. Could she really have imagined it? Was her mind conspiring against her? Was that image of the vicar in her head just a phantom, a moment of madness?

  They walked through a small hall and into a pleasant lounge. Chase collapsed onto the settee. Her head was spinning.

  “Did the pyjama’s fit okay?”

  Chase’s cheeks reddened. “Fine.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor remember. I’ve seen it all before.”

  Not mine you haven’t, she thought, inspecting the ornaments on the mantelpiece to avoid looking at him.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Chase nodded and watched him leave the room. Looking around, she admired the paintings on the wall. They seemed to be abstract images of Paradise, but there was something dark about them, as though painted by someone whose palette consisted of only black and grey.

  A few moments later Adam returned holding two cups of tea. “I hope you’re not going to break this one,” he said, hesitating before handing her the cup.

  Chase shook her head. She was too thirsty to refuse anything at the moment. She sipped at the drink, absently looking out of the window. Adam’s house was lower down the hill and his garden was overgrown with weeds. She could just see the church spire above the nettles. Had she really seen the vicar or not? Was he dead? When she dropped her gaze, she noticed Adam staring at her.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  “Better. Thank you.”

  Adam smiled. “Tea, best drink of the day. I don’t function without one.”

  “Me neither.” Although she was still confused and distressed, Chase smiled back.

  “I’ll bet you’re hungry aren’t you?”

  Chase nodded. When had she last eaten?

  “Well, we could always go to the pub and get a bite to eat.”

  Chase remembered the last meal she’d had in the pub and she shook her head.

  “Well I’m no Jamie Oliver, but I can rustle up a mean spag bol.”

  She couldn’t believe she was even thinking about food with everything that had happened. “Perhaps I should just go,” she said.

  “Nonsense, you sit there and relax and I’ll go and make it. Put the television on if you want.”

  Chase looked at the television in the corner of the room. She hadn’t noticed it before. How long was it since she had last seen one? It seemed like forever. Turning it on, she settled back on the settee as Hollyoaks started.

  “The pictures a bit grainy I’m afraid,” Adam shouted. “I think it’s atmospheric, caused by the fog.”

  Chase wasn’t bothered. It was heaven to see people she knew, even though they did have ghost images following them across the screen. She sipped at her tea and settled back.

  When Adam called her through to the kitchen, she was loath to leave the television behind but the smell of food caused her stomach to grumble and she followed the Pied Piper aroma.

  Two steaming plates of spaghetti were set on the table, along with two glasses of wine. “Just the one won’t hurt after what you’ve been through,” Adam said, pulling out a chair so she could sit.

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. It’s not often I get to entertain.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled before sitting down on the other side of the table.

  As she ate, Chase absently noticed the empty cans of chopped tomato on the draining board. Unlike the white cans sold in the village shop, they were the regular brand named variety found in most supermarkets.

  “Don’t you shop at the local store?”

  Adam looked at her and screwed his nose up. “No, I erm... no.” He looked embarrassed.

  “Don’t blame you. They aren’t exactly top cuisine.”

  Adam laughed.

  When she finished the meal, Chase said, “You weren’t lying.” She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and licked her lips.

  “Wasn’t I?�
� He frowned.

  “You really do rustle up a good spaghetti Bolognese.”

  The frown relaxed into a smile. “Why thank you.”

  “No, it should be me thanking you. You’re the only person I feel at all comfortable with. You’re the only one that’s made me feel welcome.”

  “That’s because you are. Unless you haven’t noticed, there aren’t many pretty young girls around here.”

  Chase lowered her gaze.

  “Let’s move into the lounge. It’s a bit more comfortable.”

  Chase nodded and they walked through and sat on the settee, taking the bottle of wine with them. Even though he had advised only one glass, Adam poured Chase another, which she quickly drank. She felt slightly light headed as the alcohol took affect and she forgot all about Mat, Jane, Ratty, Drake, the Raggedy man and the vicar.

  “You’re like a fresh breeze around here,” Adam said, watching her.

  Embarrassed, Chase looked at the floor. Adam put his hand on her shoulder and she flinched. When she looked up, Adam’s face was next to hers, his rapid breath on her cheek. Her heart fluttered. Damn it, kiss me, she thought, still a little surprised when he did. But she didn’t resist. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into his arms. For a brief moment, she thought it was Mat she was kissing.

  The kiss was tentative, testing the boundaries of acceptance before they momentarily broke the contact, eyeing each other before they kissed again, holding the lip connection for longer. She felt one of Adam’s hands caressing her back; it felt so good – his other hand slipped around to her stomach and the baby kicked.

  Shocked by the movement, Chase pulled away and yanked Adam’s hand off her stomach.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This. I can’t. I’m sorry.” She stood up, embarrassed. Rubbing her stomach, she felt guilty, as though she was being unfaithful – as though the baby knew she was being unfaithful.

  Adam stared at her. “You’ve no need to feel sorry. It’s me who should be apologising.”

  “No. It’s not you.”

  “I don’t mind you know. About the baby I mean.”

  “I know. I just need a little time.”

  “I understand. Well, I won’t be going anywhere. Now what would you like to watch on the television?”

  Chase spent an enjoyable evening at Adam’s. They talked about what they liked to watch (he was as much a soap addict as she was, and he updated her on the storylines she had missed), what they liked to eat, their favourite films, and best holidays. In fact, she felt so comfortable, she didn’t once mention wanting to leave the village; even wondered whether everything would be all right after all.

  Eventually he walked her home. Back in her own house, it felt empty without a television and she retired to bed where with the help of the two glasses of wine, she slept undisturbed.

  The next morning, Chase woke bright and alert. She smiled as she opened the curtains. It was another sunny day. The fog was still there, but today it had a romantic quality; was something poets would write about. Dressing quickly in a pastel blue, knee length dress, she realised for the first time how much her stomach had grown. Where could she buy maternity clothes out here? She brushed her hair as walked down the stairs, hesitating as she noticed a letter on the floor in the hall. She picked it up, realising it wasn’t a letter, just a scrap of paper. Unfolding it, she read the scrawled handwriting:

  Are you ready for the next lesson?

  It must have been from the Raggedy man and she was momentarily scared. He had been to her house. He knew where she lived. As the floodgates of remembrance opened, the horror came surging back. For a brief moment, she had been able to believe everything was normal; that perhaps everything was going to turn out all right. But the note shattered her illusions as easily as an axe breaking twigs.

  She remembered the vicar. Chase didn’t know what was real and what was illusion any more. In the lounge, she screwed the note up and threw it into the fireplace where she set it alight, watching it curl and burn before sailing up the chimney like a dark request to Santa Claus. That’s what I should have done with the first letter, she thought.

  Walking through to the kitchen to boil the kettle, she tried to forget about the note, but as she poured the water into the cup, it settled on her conscience like a vulture on a carcass. Are you ready for the next lesson?

  No longer thirsty, she poured the water down the sink; watched it swirl away. Why couldn’t everything be normal? Why couldn’t she have her dream; why did someone have to spoil it? She was angry more than fearful. Angry that just when she thought things might be going all right, the Raggedy man had intruded.

  She picked up her shoulder bag and stormed out of the house, determined to get to the bottom of it all. Walking past Belinda’s house, she increased her pace, looking straight ahead in case Belinda was in her garden. If she saw her, she thought she might just turn around, go home, lock the door and hide.

  At the bottom of the lane, she saw a face she recognised. It was the young girl who had been in the doctor’s surgery when she had burst in. Feeling the need to apologise, Chase approached her.

  The girl was sitting on a bench at the junction of the lane, reading a book. She was dressed in jeans and a Linkin Park T-shirt. Her black hair was long and unkempt, hanging like a dark veil over her cheek. When Chase’s shadow fell across her, she looked up, startled, the veil of hair taking flight as she flicked her head, revealing a pretty face etched by the dark remnants of sleepless nights.

  “Don’t hurt me, please.” The girl dropped the book on the floor and slid along the bench, her blue eyes wide and fearful.

  Chase frowned. “Why would I want to hurt you?”

  “You don’t want to, please don’t do it.”

  “I don’t want to what? I don’t know what you’re on about.”

  “Please.”

  Taking a step toward the girl, her arms held out to placate her, Chase smiled to try and calm her down.

  It didn’t work. The girl backed further away until she ran out of bench and fell onto the floor. “Please, please, don’t kill me,” she squealed.

  Chase backed away. “Kill you.” Was she serious?

  The girl started crying.

  “Calm down. Tell me what’s wrong,” Chased said.

  “Everything... everyone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s something... something. I’m sorry ...” Her eyes focused on a point behind Chase.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Chase turned to see Drake standing ominously behind her. Dressed in dark trousers and a tight jumper that hugged his muscles, he appeared bigger than ever, and nothing like the man who had appeared that day to escort her here.

  The young girl gave a little squeal, stood up and ran down the lane.

  “Do you always have that effect on women?” Chase asked, rounding on him.

  “What was going on?”

  “We were talking, that’s all.” She wished she did know what was going on.

  Drake spat on the floor.

  “How‘s Ratty ... I mean, Peter?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.

  “He’s back with his parents, where he belongs.”

  “So how is he?”

  “Like I said, he’s back with his parents.”

  Chase sighed. Why couldn’t anyone give her a straight answer?

  “Are you going somewhere?” Drake glared at her.

  “Actually yes. I’ve been looking for Moon, but you’ll do. I want to know when I can leave the village. I’m sick of being told I can’t leave. You’re making me feel like a prisoner.”

  Drake shrugged. “It’s got nothing to do with me. You’ll have to speak to Moon.”

  “That’s what I just said I wanted to do.”

  “Well he’s not here at the moment, so you’ll have to wait for him to get back.”

  “So he’s left the village?” She felt her anger rising.

  Drake nodd
ed, the trace of a smile marring his lips.

  “Tell Moon I want to speak to him as soon as he gets back, okay? Now don’t let me keep you,” Chase said.

  Drake snorted loudly then turned and walked away in the same direction as the young girl. There was definitely something strange going on in Paradise. Like Ratty had said, she was stupid not to have seen it earlier. Now everyone was a threat. Who could she trust?