The Dark Corners Box Set

by Robert Scott-Norton

  “Thank you.”

  And then he surprised her by patting her on the back lightly as she left the shop. She walked the next few metres, heading for the church with a lightness to her step, despite the puddles underfoot and the grey sky overhead, today wasn’t proving to be as miserable as it had first appeared.

  Then she noticed the car three shops down on the opposite side of the road. Adrian’s car. He was in there, on his phone. It didn’t look like he had noticed her, and she angled her newly acquired umbrella to hide her face as she went past.

  But as she went past, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something odd about seeing him there. They were nowhere near his office, and he’d never seemed the kind of man to head into town for a bit of light shopping on a Saturday.

  That left her with only one niggling thought.

  Was Adrian keeping tabs on her?

  15

  Ellis had gone out to play five-a-side leaving Lisa in the house on her own. It had taken her a while to find Jasper and when she did; he was outside, sat by the shed, licking his paws. He looked like he’d been out here all night. His fur was wet and his face dropped into that petulant standoffish face that only cats could pull off.

  The kitchen door had been open when she’d got up so she couldn’t think of any reason he would have kept away. She picked him up. His paws were black with dirt and smudged on her dressing gown, but he compliantly let her tip him onto his back to hold him like a baby and give him a cuddle. Taking him towards the house, he got fidgety and started to kick up a stink, wrestling free of her grip. She let him drop and watched him wander to the shed where he resumed his skulking by its base, eyeing her distrustfully.

  “What’s wrong with you, puss?” Lisa continued watching the cat for a few seconds, curious to see what he might do next. Was he ill? They’d always had cats when she was growing up and they’d keep to themselves if they were feeling ill. The girl cats when having bladder problems could be very vocal and would keep themselves close to the litter tray. Jasper didn’t have a tray, preferring to use outside. Was that why he was being so keen to stay out? She’d have to monitor him.

  Inside, she showered and put on some fresh clothes, thinking of what had happened last night with the lights and Judy. In her naivety, Lisa had hoped that simply by having Judy come over, she’d get to the bottom of the problem. Even now, she didn’t want to call it a haunting, but that’s what it was, wasn’t it? There was no point in denying that the activity they’d seen over the last week could be anything other than paranormal.

  As she tidied her room she called out, “Are you here now? What do you want?”

  She paused in making the bed, listening for any stray sound that might indicate she wasn’t alone. The shower head across the landing dripped, a light wind ruffled the bushes below her window, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was disappointing in a way. Making peace with the entity was not what she wanted. It had to go. She couldn’t continue living in the same house as a ghost.

  Ellis had only briefly mentioned last night’s events before he’d gone out. He was more amused than anything about Judy—Lisa had told him Judy had fallen asleep on her bed. But he was also concerned that the wiring would need to be checked and if found to need replacing, he reckoned they were looking at several thousand pounds, not including all the hassle of the mess and needing to decorate afterwards. He was at least honest with her when he said that he didn’t think he’d renew his house sharing agreement if it came to that.

  Who would blame him? He was still all over Nina from the office and wanted her to stay over this weekend. Lisa didn’t object and promised to be on her best behaviour.

  Her phone beeped a notification, and she picked it up from the bedside table. The app she’d used last night to record her sleeping was reminding her that she hadn’t reviewed the recording yet and there were three points of interest.

  Three? Right. She sat down and unlocked the screen. The app was still open and running. She stopped it and saw the three points listed with stars on the first page of the app.

  What was she expecting to hear? She’d already seen enough to know that the house was haunted. This proved nothing she didn’t already know. And then with shame she checked the time on the first moment of interest. Just when she’d been screaming and scared Ellis into her bedroom. She skipped that point and checked out the other two. In the first, she could hear herself snoring rather loudly. Embarrassing. She hoped that it wasn’t loud enough to ever disturb Ellis. He’d said nothing, but she left the bedroom door open so there was no chance of him missing it.

  The last starred moment was an hour before she woke up. Tentatively, she pressed the playback button and listened.

  There was heavy breathing. God, was that what she sounded like when asleep? That was not a good sound. It was like an asthmatic air conditioning unit. If she were to ever find a boyfriend, she’d have to find some way to put a stop to that. Next came a noise she couldn’t quite hear but thought it might be the creak of the door opening. She paused playback and searched in her bottom drawer for a pair of headphones. She normally kept some in here for when she went running.

  She plugged them in and rewound the playback to the beginning. The breathing sounded worse this time, now that she could hear it so well. And next came the noise. Definitely the door opening. Maybe it was Jasper. He sometimes did things like that, rubbing his cheeks on the hard surface, not caring what he might knock over as a consequence. A floorboard creaked. Not Jasper then. Even he with his overeating wasn’t heavy enough to make the floorboards creak in her room. She shivered, and pushed back against the headboard, pulling a pillow from behind her to hold in front of her. Despite this being a recording, it was still disturbing to hear the sounds from her room from last night. A kind of minor time travel was happening here. Same location different time. There was a noise that sounded like someone talking. She couldn’t be sure so paused the playback and increased the volume to maximum, then cued the recording back a few seconds.

  When she heard the words again, she almost cried out, but instead she clamped a hand in front of her mouth to stop her own panic escaping. The words were clear, but worse than that, they were familiar.

  “Go back to sleep,” the voice said.

  Lisa shut the app down and hid under the duvet cover.

  16

  After picking Jemma up from the drama group, they stopped at the McDonald’s and watched the seafront from the table by the window. The restaurant still hadn’t reached maximum Saturday busyness, this was their weekly indulgence, but Judy could only bare it if they got here when the place wasn’t yet too full. The table by the window was a nice bonus, and she tried to ignore the smeared glass and smell of discarded tomato sauce containers on the table beside her. Instead, she took a bite from her chicken wrap and looked around.

  “What’s the matter, Mum? You’re acting like you’ve forgotten something.”

  “No. Nothing. I just—” What could she say that didn’t sound ridiculous? Seeing Adrian in the car on the high street was not such a weird thing. What was weird was how Judy hadn’t gone over to say hello.

  She took another bite of her wrap, then put it down on the tray. She was being paranoid to the nth degree.

  “How was drama?”

  “OK, I guess.”

  “Only OK?”

  “They want to put on a show in a couple of weeks’ time.”

  “That’s a good thing. Put my name down for a ticket.”

  “But they’ve paired me with a girl from year 9.”

  “And, that’s a bad thing...”

  Jemma dipped a nugget in BBQ sauce. “She was one of the girls that was mean to me last year—Suzanne.”

  Judy sighed. Drama club was meant to help her get away from the strife of high school, it was not meant to be a place to have it thrown in your face again.

  “Did you speak to Stacy?” Stacy was the rather too enthusiastic Mancunian who ran the group. A nice en
ough woman who’d done a lot to get herself set up running the group as an ongoing business. Just not the kind of woman Judy could imagine being friends with. Far too energetic.

  “No.”

  “Then speak to her.”

  “She’ll think I’m weird.”

  “Do you care what she thinks?”

  “Yes.”

  Of course, she did. Jemma was a twelve-year-old: she cared what everyone thought.

  “Do you want me to speak to her? Get you moved into a different group?”

  Jemma shook her head firmly. “No. You are not to get involved. You are not the diplomat you think you are.”

  A tiny crack of a smile appeared on Jemma’s face. Judy felt her own face grinning. “Says who?”

  “You’re not saying anything, Mum. It will be fine. I just won’t speak to her.”

  “Won’t you find it hard to act with her if you don’t speak to her?”

  “The bare minimum. I’ll just speak the bare minimum with her.”

  Right, fine. Jemma was growing up too fast. Learning to deal with her own problems in her own way. Judy could relate to that and wouldn’t bash her for it. This was good parenting, right here.

  “Let me know if anything changes.”

  Jemma nodded. “What did you get up to?”

  “Wandered around a few shops.”

  “Buy anything?”

  Judy felt a flash of red hit her cheeks, so angled her face to look out the window, pretending something had caught her eye. “No. Nothing I need.”

  “You could let me catch the bus. I don’t mind.”

  “But I do.”

  “I get the bus to school.”

  “That’s different. There are only school kids on that bus.”

  Jemma frowned. “Is it about what happened with the woman last year?”

  “What woman?” Judy said, acting like she’d forgotten the woman who’d followed Jemma home then threatened her. That had been the week of the Adherents’ painting and no charges had been brought against anybody. She’d reported the incident to police, but they hadn’t got back to her and Jemma hadn’t been pushing for a resolution. As far as she was concerned, it had been a one off from some nut job who’d wanted to scare a schoolgirl.

  “Don’t mess. We both know who I’m talking about.”

  Judy nodded. “I know you think I’m overprotective, but you know as well as I that we’ve been involved in some scary situations this year. I don’t want to risk you getting into anything dangerous. I like to know where you are. I’d take you to school every day if you’d let me.”

  Jemma didn’t argue. They’d had the conversation before, and Jemma had pointed out that parents didn’t drop their kids off at high school unless they wanted their kids to get bullied. Besides, going to school with her friends gave them the chance to catch up before going into lessons. It was a good thing that Judy wasn’t prepared to risk. Friends were important and Judy was determined that Jemma make as many as possible.

  “I just feel that sometimes I’m a burden. That you’re just sat waiting around for me.”

  “Never think that. You’re never a burden. You’re my special girl. Always will be. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  For a while, they ate in silence, content to simply be in each other’s company. Nothing more needed saying.

  Back home, Jemma got straight on the Xbox and loaded up Fortnite, putting a headset on and joining three friends already online. It had become a regular Saturday afternoon ritual and despite it being a socialising she’d never experienced when at school, Judy didn’t mind it at all. If this meant she could spend time with her friends doing something they all enjoyed, and she knew where her daughter was, she considered that a win-win situation.

  Judy had something she wanted to do. It had been on her mind since the dinner with the in-laws and now seemed as good a time as any to get it over with. She fetched the pole she kept in the airing cupboard and unhooked the loft panel before lowering the ladder.

  Phil’s stuff was in the loft and she wanted to check something out.

  She climbed the ladder and poked her head into the darkness as she reached for the light switch. Whoever had installed the loft hatch had placed the switch on the roof framing inside the loft itself meaning you had to embrace the darkness for a few seconds whilst finding it. She flicked it on and the single bulb above her head banished the shadows.

  She normally only came up here at Christmas to get the decorations down. Phil had no interest in helping decorate the house at Christmas and would always leave for the pub when the first weekend of December arrived. He would only ever get in the way, so Judy was glad that he didn’t interfere. The way they operated was Judy would decorate, buy whatever new decorations she wanted for the year, then Phil would return, inebriated and nod at what she’d done. There was never any praise or thank yous. It was just a job that needed doing and he didn’t mind the house looking like a grotto for a few weeks as long as he didn’t have to lift a finger to help.

  This last Christmas had been their first without him. Adrian and Faith had invited Judy and Jemma around to spend the day with them, but even without asking Judy knew that would not work. A full day for Jemma away from her own things would be more stressful and less fun. And frankly, Judy could do without the pressure to look happy in their presence.

  The loft had been mostly boarded, so Judy was free to move around up here. Under the eaves, the insulation looked like it could do with replacing. A faded yellow that looked like the birds had been in here stealing bits for nests. It was only head height in the exact middle of the loft and as she moved to the edges, she needed to stoop.

  She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, only that Phil had kept some of his private papers up here, where he could keep them safe. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her not to go through them, that was always an unspoken rule. But Phil had been a great one for his own privacy and he’d often be taking his own boxes of papers up into the loft. If there was anything about the adoption that might help Lisa, it would be in one of his boxes. Judy just needed to find it.

  Music blasted from beneath her. Sounds from the eighties crashed through the ceiling under her feet and into her space, disorientating her.

  “Jemma, do you need it that loud?” Judy shouted down and considered stamping her feet on the loft boards, but she had no idea how strong they were or how well fixed to the joists they were. Falling through the ceiling was not on her bucket list.

  The music didn’t stop. Judy rolled her eyes and sighed, trying not to get annoyed. It didn’t matter. Choose your battles.

  Past the boxes of Christmas decorations, she stumbled across a collection of empty packaging from the various computers and televisions they’d bought over the years. They never seemed to get rid of these, keeping them in case the equipment needed to go back under warranty. In reality that never happened, and the empty boxes kept piling up. Some old carpet, leftovers from Jemma’s bedroom, and a section from the lounge had been rolled up and dropped under the eaves, resting on top of the roof insulation. God only knows why they kept it. If the carpet in either of those rooms got damaged enough to need bits replacing, there wasn’t enough here to replace the whole thing, and neither Judy nor Phil had ever been skilled enough to know how to patch up. It was just one of those things that people kept in their lofts. Remnants. Preparing for the worst.

  At the back of the loft, on the far wall above Judy’s bedroom, Phil had installed some stacked shelving. There was plenty of clutter on here as well. Boxes of photos from a time when they’d get their photos developed rather than staring at them on an iPad. Idly, she lifted the lid from one box and pulled out an album. It was from a holiday they’d taken to Greece over twenty years ago, way before Jemma had been born. The smiles in the photo had been genuine enough. They’d been good together. A relationship that held to certain rules and boundaries, but that was needed to keep it all moving in the right direction. Phil had been a firm
believer in household roles, and she knew that within weeks of first meeting him. That hadn’t put her off him, in fact, she enjoyed the idea that he was such a traditionalist, that he wanted to be the family provider, the breadwinner. Nothing wrong with wanting to look after my family, he’d say. And for a time, he was right. There was nothing wrong with it at all.

  She put the album back and replaced the lid. It was depressing to see the colours on those photos, aging even in their albums in the loft. They were from a different time, a different place. And it made her uneasy.

  Scanning along the shelves, she passed other objects she’d forgotten about. The box with Jemma’s baby clothes from her first week, a bag with pressed flowers from her wedding bouquet. souvenirs from their honeymoon. There was so much here that she’d forgotten or had pretended had never existed.

  The music stopped from Jemma’s room and the silence was even more disconcerting.

  “You should see some of this stuff, Jemma. Come up if you want.” She spoke loudly enough for Jemma to hear her through the open hatch, but there was no reply. She must have gone back down, another round of Fortnite.

  The box she’d been looking for was on the bottom shelf. She paused before pulling it out. This was one of Phil’s boxes she’d left alone, thinking that Jemma might appreciate some of her dad’s things when she was older.

  A car alarm sounded on the street outside, the clamour travelling easily into the loft through the roof. She heard voices from the street, then the beep of a car remote and the alarm stopped. Despite knowing there were people so close, she suddenly felt very removed from the world.

  She carried the box closer to the hatch and the single light bulb. The light from the bulb wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the loft space completely. There were curtains of blackness around the periphery and the bulb’s glare remained a faint glow by the shelving. She needed to go through this box carefully, and she’d do that downstairs in the kitchen. But her curiosity was such, that she couldn’t resist peeking now.