by Mina Carter
“It’s Heath. Short for Heathcliff. My mother was a fan of Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff Tyrell.” He shrugged in a rather embarrassed way. It must have been hell going through school with a name like that, but Becky liked it. It suited him with his dark looks and piercing blue gaze.
“So, back to the freaky doll. Do its eyes move a lot?”
“They didn’t move at all while we were in there. It’s just the photos it shows on,” Imy explained. “I’m Imy, by the way, and my mum is far too single.”
“Imy!” Becky’s face burned in shame at having her daughter basically pimping her out.
Heath just chuckled, giving Becky a warm look that heated her face even more. What she wanted right now was a nice big hole to open up by her feet so she could jump inside head first.
She was rescued from even further embarrassment by the doorbell clanging loudly again. “Saved by the bell,” she muttered as she hurried from the room.
It seemed Mrs Hanham hadn’t been able to resist coming to see the effigy for herself. Her son and two grandsons followed her inside, looking around nosily. Becky guessed they had heard about the house, but probably hadn’t been inside before. She was introduced to the fourth man, the museum curator, who seemed fascinated by such an unusual find. He was introduced as Piran Denne.
“So, I brought the muscle along,” Mrs Hanham smirked once the greetings were done with.
“So I see. The thing is, something really strange has happened. My daughter took a load of photos of the thing, but when she brought them up on her computer, there were a few . . . oddities.”
“What sort of oddities?” Piran asked eagerly. “Photography often shows things that the human eye might miss.”
“I’ll show you. But first I’ll show you the effigy and get Imy to take some more pictures so you know it’s not a hoax.” Becky had given it some thought and decided fresh pictures with more witnesses would make the point more effectively. Unless it didn’t happen a second time, that was.
After quickly making introductions all round, Becky indicated for her guests to go through to the storage rooms. She was very glad when Heath led the way. She didn’t really want to see the creepy doll thing again. Imy took her camera and asked Piran to stand in various positions around the coffin while watching the effigy’s face. She repeated all the angles she had snapped before, and then everyone trooped back out. Becky shut the main door to the storage rooms and turned the key in the lock.
Imy glance round at everyone. “Ok, you all saw me take these photos, and several of you are in them. You were all watching the doll’s eyes, so you know I didn’t do anything weird. I’m just going to load the pictures onto the laptop and then you can all look at them.”
Becky watched her daughter doing exactly what she said, then the girl stepped away from the computer and invited Piran to bring up the pictures for the first time.
“Holy shit!” the poor man shrieked.
That meant it had happened again, but Becky had no intention of looking at the new pictures.
“What the fuck?” one of Mrs Hanham’s grandsons gasped in shock. Becky wasn’t sure which name went with which strapping, muscle-bound man. Their father was called Rob and they were called Oliver and Jason. Becky figured she would find out which was which soon enough.
“That thing is looking at me,” Piran mumbled, looking worried. Becky didn’t blame him.
“What am I meant to do with something like that?” Becky asked of everyone in the room, hoping to get at least one useful suggestion.
“Burn it?” Heath contributed.
Thinking he was probably right, Becky nodded, though she wasn’t sure she could do that until all the legalities were straight. Then she realised the Kennett’s probably had no idea it was even there, so there was nothing stopping her doing exactly that.
“You can’t burn it!” Piran objected. “This could be a very important find. As far as I know, there’s never been anything like it before. It needs to be studied by experts in Victorian history.”
“Then you take it, because I don’t want it here another day.”
“It really needs to be left in place until it’s been looked into in more detail.”
“Fine. Then I suggest you get some historians out here before tonight, because I’m not letting my daughter sleep in the same house as it.”
Swallowing, Piran nodded and immediately pulled out his phone. He wandered out of the kitchen as he started talking to someone, obviously wanting to speak in private.
Becky realised what had started out as some innocent inquisitiveness had now turned into a bit of a circus. She had only been in the house for a little over one day and it was already taking over her life. She hadn’t expected things to go quite as they had though. Who would?
“Are you ok?” Heath asked her gently, but she still jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s not your fault; I’m pretty jumpy at the minute.”
“I think you’re allowed to be. There’s something very strange going on here.”
Becky huffed. “Understatement. I think I need to get out for a bit. I was told about a pub in a place called Furze . . . something.”
“I know where you mean.”
“Mum, Imy, we’re going out. The rest of you can stay or go as you want.”
Mrs Hanham – and she was obviously made of some stern stuff – looked up and smiled. “Go ahead, dear. We’ll stay and see what we can get sorted out. You need a break I should imagine.”
Becky decided she liked Mrs Hanham a lot. She might look like a sweet old lady, but her mind was razor sharp.
As Becky and her family left the house, they found Heath waiting outside for them, stood by an older Land Rover. It rattled rather a lot as it went along the road. None of them spoke on the way to the pub. There wasn’t much they could say. Becky couldn’t get her head around what had happened with the effigy; it was just so bizarre. And the fact the changes in its eyes only showed in photographs? Weird. Very weird.
After a lifetime of thinking things out in a calm and rational way, now Becky was confronted with a situation that simply couldn’t be rationalised. She was going to try and put the whole thing from her mind for the time being so she could focus on spending some time with her mother and daughter. That was exactly the kind of reality she needed.
* * *
By the time they got back to the house, Becky felt very full after a large, delicious meal, and also a tiny bit light-headed from several glasses of wine. Imy had seemed unaffected by all the strange goings-on. Brenda was a little quieter than normal, but Becky guessed her mum was thinking things over.
Heath had been very chatty, regaling them with tales of the more bizarre incidents through his policing career. He’d sat beside Becky and aimed most of his comments at her. If she’d been less distracted, she would have taken a lot more notice of his flirting.
Turning into the drive of Frippe House, Becky gulped when she saw dozens of cars parked outside. It looked like Piran had managed to get his experts in. Becky didn’t want to know what they were all up to. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
The front door was wide open and strangers flitted in and out of the house, none of them taking any notice of Becky and her family.
Making their way to the kitchen, they found Mrs Hanham organising everyone from a chair in the corner. Piran was deeply involved in a very animated conversation with a man in a bow tie and tweed jacket. He spotted Becky and managed a little wave, but otherwise took no notice of her.
Collapsing in a chair beside Mrs Hanham, Becky asked softly, “What’s happening?”
“More than I can keep up with. I don’t think it’s going to be moved out tonight. None of this lot can seem to agree on what to do. They’ve had more photos taken and the same thing happened. None of them know what to make of it. Basically, they’re all head-scratching.”
“Great.” Becky glowered. Having so many people in on everything probab
ly meant they would never agree. Much as she really wanted to go to bed, she didn’t think she was likely to sleep knowing that thing was still around. She had been hoping it would be taken out while they were having their meal.
What she really needed was to speak to Xander Kennet and get his permission to have the thing removed from the property completely. That wouldn’t be happening until the morning though. She didn’t have a home number for him.
“We need to establish an identity,” one of the historians close to Becky suddenly burst out. She stood and tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?” he asked, frowning. “Do I know you?”
“You’re in my house,” she replied grumpily.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise.” He gripped her hand tightly, shaking it hard enough to wobble her whole body. “Professor Innes Seager. I specialise in Victorian death customs. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Utterly fascinating. Really.”
Becky extracted her hand before he shook her arm off. “I inherited this house recently from my Great-Aunt Alice. I was just exploring with the lady who does the cleaning when we found the room.”
“Fascinating!” he exclaimed.
“Anyway, I overheard you saying you want to find out who the effigy is of. There’s a family tree in the library you could look at.”
“Really? Wonderful!”
A few more of the experts had overheard the conversation and followed behind Becky and Professor Seager. Sitting down at the desk, Becky took out the family tree and put it down in front of them to quiet exclamations of pleasure, almost like she had just presented them with their equivalent of porn.
“Knock yourselves out,” she told them with a slight smile.
As Seager unfolded the paper and they all leaned over it, Becky had a bit more of a rummage in the drawer it had come from. As her knuckles caught the back of the drawer, it struck her it didn’t sound quite right. She got on her knees on the floor and peered inside. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something there.
Pulling the drawer out a bit further, she gripped each side of it and eased it out as far as possible. There was some kind of catch to stop it coming out fully. Holding her hair off her face, she leaned down further and saw a small block of wood holding the drawer in. She put her hand in and tried to push it out of the way. The wooden block suddenly gave way and she could remove the drawer completely.
What she found was the back of the drawer was about four inches thick, meaning it probably had a hidden compartment. Dumping the remaining contents on the floor, she tipped it up and found the drawer had been constructed with a secret tiny drawer coming out of the back. Bracing herself for what she might discover, she opened it.
Inside were three small notebooks, but the writing in them was complete gobbledegook. Getting back on the chair, Becky flicked through them silently, searching for at least one recognisable wood. She didn’t find one.
“Any of you any good with codes?” she asked the boffin collection around the desk. They had been so focused on the family tree they hadn’t seen what she was doing.
“Codes?” one queried.
“I’ve just found these hidden in the back of the drawer, but they’re not in English.” Putting the notebooks down on top of the family tree, she looked at all the faces fixed on the little volumes as if they didn’t know whether to pounce on them or if they would explode in their faces.
Seager picked up the one on the top of the pile and opened it, frowning at the contents. “It’s certainly code, but it would probably need a specialist to break it. There’s some symbols here I’ve never seen before. Are there any more, or maybe a piece of paper that could be the key to the code?”
“That was everything in there.” Becky shrugged.
Another of the group picked up the second book and studied the first page. “This one is a satanic symbol,” he said quietly, his brows pulling into a frown.
“Just perfect,” Becky muttered. She came from a family of Satanists? “What does it mean?”
“It’s one of the symbols for Lucifer.” He held the notebook out for her to see. It looked like a cocktail glass with some squiggles on it.
“And this one is Astaroth.” He pointed to a second. It was a bit like an ankh, but it had been altered to make a vaguely person shape.
“And that is?” Becky wondered if he assumed everyone knew all the arcane stuff he did.
He took a deep breath, puffing up with self-importance. Becky felt her eyebrows trying to rise mockingly. “Astaroth, my dear lady, is the Crowned Prince of Hell.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WELL ISN’T THAT just spiffing?” Becky said flatly. She’d been in the house for less than two days and she was neck deep in weirdness and boffins.
“I really don’t need all this shit,” she announced. “You lot can poke around wherever you like, but I’m going to bed. Call whoever you want, get all the nerds you like in, but leave me out of it.”
She left the library, headed to the kitchen, made herself some warm milk, said goodnight to everyone, and left them all to it. She simply couldn’t take any more for one day.
“Are you okay?”
She jumped and span round to look at Heath. His face was full of concern. “Far from it, but I’ve had enough for today.”
“It has been a bit strange,” he agreed.
“Oh, it gets worse. I’ve just found some books in the library that are written in code and decorated with satanic symbols. Put that together with the effigy and you get a whole heap of wrong.”
“Bloody hell,” he breathed. “Look, I’ve got to get going soon; I’ve got an early shift tomorrow. What I can do is ring the station and see if anyone can come out to keep an eye on things. You’ve got a lot of people here you know nothing about, so it’s best to be safe.”
Smiling a little, Becky thanked him, although the boffins seemed to get more turned on by dusty bits of old paper than women, from what she had seen, so she didn’t think she or her family were in any danger. She appreciated the thought though.
“I’ll see what I can sort out before I go,” Heath told her gently. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Blushing, she took her leave of him and headed up the stairs. With everything going on, dating wasn’t exactly a top priority, but Heath was cute and Becky was a red-blooded woman. Maybe she should see if it would go anywhere.
Becky had just got into bed when there was soft knock on the door. Imy crept in, dressed in fluffy pink pyjamas and novelty Scooby-Doo slippers
“You okay?” Becky asked her as she climbed onto the bed and sat at the end with her legs crossed.
“I’m good. This is exciting. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep.” She grinned a bit tiredly.
“It might be exciting to you, but it’s a massive headache to me. I was going to talk to you about everything when you got here, but there just hasn’t been time.”
“Talk about what?”
“The whole not being able to sell or rent out thing.”
“You mean we’ll have to live here?” she asked excitedly.
That wasn’t the reaction Becky had been expecting. Imy had lived her whole life in Reading, all her friends were there, so it was odd she should be excited about leaving all that behind.
“Explanation?” Becky said, her eyebrows raised a bit in surprise.
“This place is awesome! All the spooky stuff just makes it better. From the second I walked in the door, I’ve felt like I belong here. Does that sound weird?”
Becky smiled at her daughter. “No, it doesn’t sound weird, honey. I’m not sure if I want to live here though. Especially now. The house is crawling with experts in this, that and the other; there’s a creepy wax doll downstairs; Dan hasn’t even seen it yet. It’s a lot to take in.”
“But on the bright side, there is a man who fancies you here,” Imy pointed out with a cheeky grin.
“Not exactly a top priority, Imy.”
“Yes it is! Mum, you haven’t even been on a date in months.”
“I’m not looking to settle down and get married again.”
“Doesn’t stop you jumping his bones.”
“Imy!” Becky tried to look shocked, but then she dissolved into giggles. It wasn’t like she was a nun, so sex certainly wouldn’t go amiss. Even so, she wasn’t sure if Heath liked her in that way. Well, maybe she did a bit, but that didn’t mean he was up for some horizontal exercise. She certainly wouldn’t be turning him down if he was though.
“Come off it, Mum! It’s obvious you like him, so why not? Have your wicked way with him at least!”
“Hey, as long as you’re not thinking of having your wicked way with anyone, young lady,” Becky responded sharply.
“Oh, Mum! Boys are so dumb!”
When she had been Imy’s age, Becky had been practically gagging to lose her virginity, so it was a relief her daughter hadn’t taken after her in that. Imy didn’t even seem to have begun to notice the opposite sex in that way yet.
With a slight huff, Becky responded cynically, “They never grow out of it either.”
Shifting up to lay with her head on the empty pillow, Imy looked up at her mother with a slight frown. “Why did Dad go off with that stupid cow?”
“Because men get to a certain age and their brain switches off completely. They don’t all jump into bed with someone young enough to be their daughter, but they usually end up doing something dumb.”
“Then why do women bother with them?”
“Apart from the sex, I couldn’t tell you, honey.” Becky shuffled down under the covers and lay on her side looking into her daughter’s ‘Frippe’ eyes. “One day you’ll meet someone who’ll make you wonder why you ever thought this way, and I really hope they treat you well. Not all men are the same. Every so often you come across one who’s definitely worth keeping. Unfortunately, our family doesn’t seem too good at finding them.”