“Oh, darling,” her mum said after opening the front door. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Hi, Mum.”
They went through to the kitchen and Lisa perched on a stool by the centre island. Her mum hovered by the kitchen sink, looking effortlessly at home there.
“Are you on your lunch? Have you eaten?”
“Only got twenty minutes before I need to head back.”
“But you haven’t eaten? I can make something.”
“No, Mum, don’t worry. I’ll grab some toast when I get back to work.”
Faith’s lips thinned. “You will not. I was going to make an omelette for myself. It’s no more trouble to make two.”
Lisa allowed herself to smile. There was nothing quite like being looked after by her mum. “Thanks, Mum. Can I help?”
Faith had already dragged the frying pan from the cupboard beside the oven. “No. Don’t move. You will sit there and let me cook for you. You hardly ever let me do that.”
“I don’t like imposing.”
Faith straightened from grabbing a bottle of oil from another cupboard and faced her daughter. Pan in one hand, oil in the other. “How could you ever impose? This is your house. I’m your mother.”
“I know. I just don’t want to put you out.”
Faith tutted and placed the pan on the hob. “There are some eggs in the fridge.”
Lisa went to the utility room where the fridge was kept and dived in for the eggs. Despite it being just the two of them, her mum had never gotten used to it being that way. The fridge was packed. Tubs of coleslaw, bags of lettuce, jars of pickles. It took her a while to locate the eggs.
“How’s Dad?” She asked when she returned.
“Fine. At the office.”
“I mean, how is he after the meal?”
Faith cracked four eggs in a bowl, then took a fork and started whisking. “He’s a little quiet, if that’s what you mean.”
“I didn’t think he’d react like that. I didn’t want to hurt him, or you.”
“Don’t worry about me, love. I’ve always known that you would want to know about your birth parents, it was always just going to be a matter of when, not if.”
“So why can’t Dad see that?”
“You took him by surprise, that’s all. I guess he thought you’d got to an age where you weren’t thinking about it anymore.”
“I never stopped thinking about it. It was Phil.”
“Yes, I thought as much. You never liked to upset him, did you? You were always the inquisitive one. Even when you were little.”
The eggs went into the pan and Lisa excused herself, saying she needed to pay a visit. She did need a wee, but there were things she wanted to do first. Her dad’s office was upstairs, next to the bathroom. And in that office, her dad kept most of the paperwork relating to his letting agency. There were several filing cabinets in there, and she knew that he also kept other important documents in there including their passports before she moved out. What was the betting that other important family documents were also kept in there?
Adoption papers?
She flushed the toilet so her mum wouldn’t get suspicious, then pushed down on the handle to the office.
Locked.
She’d never known Dad to lock it before. When she’d lived here, the door was almost always ajar, even when Dad was working in there. She didn’t even think there had been a lock on the door when she’d last lived here. The handle looked new.
What the hell was going on?
Her mum called up to her. “Lunch is ready.”
They ate at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Faith had poured them both a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, or at least that’s what the carton claimed it to be.
“I’ve looked into it, the adoption process, I mean,” Lisa said. “And I think if you can let me have a look through the original paperwork, I can get in touch with the adoption agency and get them to help.”
“It can’t be that easy, surely.”
“There’s no guarantee that my birth parents will want to be contacted, and I’ll respect that if that’s their choice. But yeah, it is kinda that easy.”
“But you need the original paperwork?” Faith set down her knife and fork. “Then you will have to ask your father.”
“Would you know where it is?”
“Where we keep all the important documents—in the office.”
Of course, it would be.
“Do you mind having a look for it? Now that I’m here. It will save a trip later.”
“Don’t you need to get back to work?”
Lisa checked her watch. Shit. She only had fifteen minutes to get back into town. It would be a push. Failing that, she’d offer to work later to make up for it. After those late nighters last month, she had a right to expect a little leeway over lunch. “I’ve got time,” she said confidently.
“To be honest, Love, you will have to wait until your father gets home. He’s been very security conscious and has put a lock on the office door. I don’t think he’s left a key here.”
“Why did he think to do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. You know how he gets. An idea comes from nowhere and takes hold until it’s scratched.”
“When did he put the lock on?”
Faith looked at Lisa with a curious expression, like what she was explaining didn’t matter in the slightest. “He had someone come over on Monday morning to fit it.”
Monday morning. The day after Lisa told her dad she would start looking for her birth parents. Now, what are the chances of that? Lisa looked down at her plate and the half-eaten omelette.
“You not hungry, Love?”
“You’re right. I need to get back to work, and besides, I’ve lost my appetite.”
11
“How’s your day been?” Judy asked as she stepped into Lisa’s hallway. Straight away she spotted the marks on her neck and lent in closer. “What happened?”
Lisa straightened and pulled her scarf back around her neck, covering the marks.
“It’s nothing. I must have scratched myself sleeping.”
Judy noticed her stiffening and caught herself doing the same. Once again, there was a feeling like walking into a room after everyone has done talking about you.
Lisa led the way into the back room, past the open door of the lounge where Judy spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Ellis must be in there playing on his Xbox. But there was no time to pop her head through and say hello as Lisa seemed on a mission.
Judy followed obediently, then placed her rucksack down. Lisa hurried behind her and closed the door. She was acting even more uptight than she had a few days ago.
“Did you bring your equipment?” Lisa asked.
“I’ve brought some bits. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Tell me what’s going on though. I said I’d help you, but you need to talk. What’s stressing you? What’s happened?”
Lisa glanced at the ceiling like she’d heard something, then she met Judy’s gaze. “It’s not been a great day to be honest.”
“Is it your dad?”
Of course, it was her dad. Judy knew that before she’d even asked the question. Lisa’s body language was so controlled, her arms folded in front of her chest, and there was a sense of her being a lost child. Judy wanted to grab hold of her and make her realise that despite how it felt now, things would work out OK. Adrian had told her about Lisa’s illness and she was cautious about feeding into that with false promises, so she resisted the urge to act overly maternal.
Lisa sniffled then told Judy what had happened at Adrian’s house that afternoon with the new lock on the office. It sounded if not suspicious, then at least deeply curious.
“What did your mum say?”
“That he keeps his important documents in there for the business. That she’d speak to him when he gets back and ask him whether he could start looking for the paperwork.”
It had surprised Jud
y that the adoption paperwork hadn’t been handed over to Phil or Lisa along with their birth certificates and passports when they’d grown up. It seemed like they would be important documents to want to keep for themselves.
“If she will do that, I don’t see that there’s any point in worrying yourself over it. Adrian has always been a little—”
“Pig-headed?”
“I would say intense, but we can go with pig-headed if that helps.” Judy’s spirits lifted as she saw a smile cross Lisa’s face.
In the distance, she heard a key turn in the lock then the front door opened and closed. “Lisa, are you home?” Ellis’s voice bellowed through the house.
“In here,” Lisa shouted back.
Judy rubbed the back of her neck, the fine hair there tingling. Lisa must have noticed. “Are you OK?” she asked.
“Fine. Just thought he was already in the house.”
“Probably dropping his new girlfriend off home.”
The door opened and Ellis entered, a large bag of takeaway in one hand, the smell wafting through the air. Indian. Judy tried not to think about the bag’s contents, realising that she hadn’t yet eaten her own tea.
Ellis’s face lightened as he saw Judy, then flatlined as he gestured to the bag. “I would have gotten more if I knew you were here. There’s plenty though. I always get extra starters.”
“No, honestly,” Judy replied. “I’ll grab something later.”
“Where’s Jemma?” he asked as he wandered through to the kitchen, flicking the light on, then placing the bag on the counter.
“Her friend’s. They’re supposed to be finishing a project, but I suspect they’re both on Xbox.”
“A girl after my own heart,” Ellis said.
Judy fiddled with the strap on the backpack. “I could get this set up whilst you eat.”
“I’ll come with you,” Lisa said.
“Honestly, it’s not a problem. I’d like to set it up on my own. I need to be comfortable doing this. And to be honest, if you’re around, it might interfere with any feelings I may get.”
Lisa still didn’t look happy about this, so Judy stood and headed for the door with her bag. “Relax, you’re making me nervous. And this could be the perfect time to tell Ellis what you’re doing.”
“Are my ears burning?” Ellis stepped in, carrying a large plate with onion bhaji’s and samosas. Judy’s stomach was crying at the smell of them. “You going somewhere?” he said as he saw Judy standing by the door.
“I’ll let Lisa explain,” Judy said as she excused herself, closing the door behind her. She didn’t linger to listen in on what Lisa might tell him. Probably making an excuse about being here. Would it help or hinder the situation if they told Ellis that they thought the house might be haunted?
The stairs creaked like old men’s bones as she headed upstairs, the rucksack bumping in the small of her back, nudging her along. A single pendant lamp and a fussy fake crystal lampshade illuminated the space, but the bulb must be an energy saving one, an underpowered one for the space it needed to light. As her head met with the floor level of the landing, she could see through the bannisters and scanned all along, from Lisa’s bedroom door at the back of the house to Ellis’s at the front. The spare bedroom and the main bathroom sat between them; their doors closest to the top of the stairs.
She paused. Then placed her rucksack on the floor and pulled out her pocket notebook. She flicked to the first empty page then wrote ‘Lisa’ at the top followed by the date and time. Then she did what she had become so practised at when entering new spaces—she counted the doors she could see, paying close attention to the walls between the bedroom doors. There were two. She presumed they were cupboards, their design fitted in too well to be Almost Doors, but she stepped across to them all the same, putting her hand on them carefully, like patting the back of a lion’s head. It paid to be cautious. There was no sensation from either of them, so she tried the handles. They opened easily. Inside one, the airing cupboard, the hot water tank sat cladded in thick red insulation. The other was used for storing books and boxes of odds and ends.
She made a note in her notebook that these doors were meant to be here and were harmless.
Above her head was the loft hatch. She took out the LED torch from the rucksack and illuminated the square. There were no signs of anything dangerous. She used the torch to light up the other corners of the room. A few cobwebs but nothing unusual.
But if everything was fine here, why was she finding the impulse to run back downstairs irresistible? Ellis and Lisa had gone quiet, busy eating their tea.
Ignoring the other rooms for now, Judy headed towards the back of the house. The back corridor had a step making it lower than the rest of the landing and she almost missed it, stumbling and swearing under her breath. What maniacs would build a house like this?
As she approached the bedroom door, she realised her breath was almost visible in front of her face. She hadn’t felt cold even a moment ago but now the temperature had unmistakably fallen a few degrees.
Her heart was in her mouth by the time she was at the threshold of the room. Was it just her imagination or was the landing light getting even dimmer? She steadied herself against the wall before pushing the bedroom door open with her other hand.
The room was full of shadows and hard edges silhouetted against the moonlight coming in through the windows. The bedroom curtains hadn’t yet been closed and wherever the light from the moon hit, objects were kissed with a sliver of silver.
Judy stood and watched, taking the scene in. Seth would have barged straight in and dealt with the consequences later, but he was fearless. Her method, she’d decided, pretty much whilst standing on the threshold, was to take it slowly. This wasn’t a race. She wasn’t competing with anyone. All she had to do was observe and record.
Music suddenly blasted from a speaker beside Lisa’s bed. An old seventies number. Was it Dana? A few bars played, then the speaker fell silent.
“Hello?” Judy asked the darkened bedroom.
In some cases, she knew that acknowledging a spirit was one way to strengthen its position and could be reckless. Judy wasn’t thinking of that. “If you’re in here and want to communicate, show yourself.”
Her mouth was so dry that getting the words out almost made her cough.
If anything was in the room, it wasn’t interested in showing itself. “Did you make that music come on?”
Nothing.
Judy entered and placed her backpack against the door so it wouldn’t close on her. She’d learnt to always keep your exits clear.
It was an innocuous enough bedroom. A double bed with fine dark lines running across the duvet, a faux fur cover had been set at the end of the bed, a solid band of yellow softening the pattern. A large mirrored wardrobe dominated one wall. Judy thought the mirrors would bother her if she was sleeping in here. Too many opportunities for unexpected movement.
It was simple to spot which side Lisa slept on from the bedside tables. One side was bare apart from a lamp, the other had a half-drunk glass of water on a Harry Potter coaster atop a closed laptop; a Stephen King paperback of Carrie, well-loved telling by the curled-up edges, and a box of tissues.
From her rucksack, Judy removed a small box, about the size of her palm, and she flicked a switch on the side. A row of five LEDs built into the surface flickered into life, glowing a bright red in the darkness. They’d had EM readers like this at Ravenmeols. They’d not been much use at the hospital, and looking at the reviews online had been inconclusive, but it had to be worth a shot, didn’t it? Holding it out before her, she stepped gingerly across the room, careful not to stand on any of Lisa’s discarded clothes.
Almost as bad as Jemma, she thought.
The five lights extinguished, and she tapped the unit. Testing it before coming here hadn’t been high on her priorities. Surely it was just a case of switching it on and searching for the areas where the most lights came on.
One
light.
She stood still.
OK, a base reading. Let’s call that a base reading.
One light is good. Harmless even.
Five lights.
So, there’s that. EM readers would pick up on other signals in the vicinity. Not as useful as she’d hoped then.
One light.
But if she found an area where the reading stayed consistently high and she could discount other signals, then that would indicate something else causing the disturbance.
She swung her arm around, so it was pointing towards the window.
Two lights.
They didn’t extinguish.
Why am I holding my breath?
She stepped across the room, heading to the window.
Three lights.
She paused again. Three lights could still be because of phones. Ellis and Lisa could be using theirs now. Judy realised she should have told Lisa what she was doing so they could have cut out as much interference as possible.
A floorboard creaked behind her, somewhere by the door. She spun around, the arm with the reader outstretched like it would protect her.
Nothing.
Four lights.
The door inched shut, her rucksack moving with it, being shoved along by the door. Judy realised the EM reader was a little unnecessary and let her arm drop. How much activity did she need to see to acknowledge that there was something in this room she didn’t understand?
“Hello. Can you communicate? Let me know why you’re here.”
The room dropped several degrees in seconds, and she brought her arms across her chest. Her breath became noticeable in the dim moonlight and she realised one more thing.
She was no longer alone.
12
It had been thirty minutes.
“What’s she doing up there? Should you check on her?” Ellis said, picking up the last scrap of poppadom.
“I told you, she’s helping me out with my computer.”
“But she could bring it downstairs.”
The Dark Corners Box Set Page 51