by Helen Phifer
‘How wide open was the window?’
She put the mug down and lifted her hands apart quite some distance.
‘I didn’t leave it like that. I’m positive.’
‘Well someone did. It doesn’t matter now. It just gave me a bit of a fright being on my own and sober for the first time in, well, in a long time.’
‘What happened, Kate?’
‘Not much really, well apart from me deciding that I’d not drink and then I couldn’t sleep because of the scratching and noises.’
She leant forward onto her elbows, managing to knock her mug and spill tea all over the table. He jumped up to get some kitchen roll and mop it up.
‘No I mean exactly what happened that caused you to come back down and finish off almost half a bottle of vodka?’
He could have kicked himself. Now she was going to think he was some weirdo who was keeping tabs on her. This was her house and her life. What right did he have to know how much vodka she had left in the bottle or how much she’d drunk? But she never said anything, because he knew that once more he’d put his size eleven foot in it and embarrassed her.
‘I was lying in bed and heard noises from upstairs – well footsteps to be exact – so feeling brave I went up there to see what or who it was. All the other doors were shut except for that one; it was wide open. So I forced my shaking legs to walk down and have a look inside. That’s when I saw the window open and figured the breeze had opened the door, but it doesn’t explain who put those fucking awful crosses on the wall. To tell the truth I was really pissed off about that last night. I spent ages that first afternoon going round collecting them all. Now I don’t want them in my house and if it was some kind of joke, then that’s enough and we can forget about it; but it was all just a bit too freaky at three o’clock in the morning. So can you tell Ethan and Jack no more, please?’
‘First of all I don’t know anything about any crosses. I’ll ask the lads if they do when they get here, but they left before I did. However, most importantly, why didn’t you phone the police? It could have been a burglar or a tramp.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not a complete wimp, and I’m used to all sorts of people – I had no choice living in that flat – and let’s be honest there’s not much to steal, is there?’
‘Phoning the police doesn’t mean you’re a wimp. You are on your own living in this huge house in the middle of nowhere. Phoning the police is the sensible thing to do. Or you could have phoned me. I would have come over.’
‘I did think about it – ringing the police and you – but the police would have looked me up and seen that I’d been previously arrested for drunk driving. Then they’d have thought I’d had one too many glasses of wine and not take me seriously anyway. I’m sure they have far more important things to do. I didn’t ring you because I didn’t want to disturb you so late. That is way beyond the call of duty as my project manager and builder.’
‘What about my being your friend? I’ve known you a long time, Kate. I’d like to think that we weren’t just in a business relationship.’
He wanted to kick himself. What was wrong with him this morning? He didn’t know whether it was the sight of her sitting there, looking as sexy as hell, or the concerned big brother coming out in him, but he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. She pushed her uneaten toast to one side and stood up.
‘Thanks for my breakfast. I better go and get dressed.’
He watched her leave then stood up himself. He needed to get cracking, otherwise he was going to end up running after her and saying something he might regret later, when he was at home thinking about everything.
This was none of his business. By the comments she’d made Kate had made that quite clear. She didn’t think of him as a close friend. If she had she would have called him last night and she hadn’t, which hurt him, but he’d get over it. From now on he would keep it purely professional: no flirting, laughing or joking. At least the job would get done quicker. The harder he worked the less time he’d have to think about her and her situation – or so he hoped. He put the mugs and teapot in the sink then went out to his van.
***
Last night seemed so far away now and Kate had been dreaming about the last time she’d taken her girls shopping. Amy had come with them and they’d done the full works: Trafford Centre, Nando’s for lunch. Back then she had never imagined how shitty her life was going to turn less than three months later.
She noticed the empty vodka bottle was now in the bin. She needed to get a grip and sort her life out. Ollie was a kind, good-looking, in fact very attractive man, but he was also a married man and there was no way she was going to go there – no matter how lonely or scared she was or how much her hormones were telling her to.
5 January 1933
Sister Agnes had not slept more than a couple of hours. She had spent the whole night freezing cold and having the most horrific nightmares where she was burning in the depths of hell. The pain as the searing heat crackled and blistered her skin had almost been too much to bear, and at one point she’d woken up in a cold sweat – breathless – only to drift off and continue with the same dream.
Not only had she been there, but so had Edith and Mary. Mary had been doing the most sinful of things with a half-man half-beast creature and Agnes hadn’t been able to look away because she was shackled by her arms to a rough stone wall.
As she opened her eyes and saw the murky, grey light filtering through the window she breathed out a huge sigh of relief. Never had she had such impure thoughts – and at her age, it was wrong. She would be praying extra hard for her soul at morning prayers today. She wondered why she had dreamt about such depraved filth.
After getting out of bed she washed, dressed, took her rosary beads from the dressing table and placed them around her neck. Instantly she felt better, purer, and closer to God and nature. She would sleep with them on tonight if it meant she wouldn’t have such terrible dreams. The house was quiet. Everyone else must still be asleep, which was good. It gave her a chance to make a pot of tea and gather her thoughts.
It would also give her the chance to decide what to do about Lilith. The woman couldn’t stay here any longer. There was something about her that was off kilter. Agnes never judged anyone on face value, but the sneaky grins and smirks whilst Lilith was relaying her tale of woe last night had stayed with her. Who in their right mind would smirk about being beaten and forced to do terrible things?
As she sipped her tea she felt a shadow fall over the kitchen door and turned to see Lilith standing there, watching her. She was so surprised because she’d never heard the woman leave her bedroom or come down the stairs that she spilt the hot liquid all over herself, scalding her arm. Lilith rushed to the sink and picked up a dishcloth. After running it under the cold water tap she pressed it against Agnes’s arm. Her touch made Agnes jump once more. The woman’s fingers were colder than slivers of ice if that was possible.
‘Have you hurt yourself badly, sister?’
Agnes shook her head.
‘Did I give you a fright? I’m sorry about that. I’ve always been an early riser. I hate lying in bed wasting the day when there’s so much to do, although I do hate the sunlight. My skin is so fair that I can’t go out in it. Don’t you agree? Why don’t you run your arm under the cold water? I’ll clean this mess up and then make us a lovely fresh pot of tea.’
Agnes pushed herself up from the chair and crossed to the sink. Running the cold water tap, she held her arm underneath it. The whole time she watched Lilith as she cleaned the spilt liquid from the table, then set about getting fresh teabags from the cupboard along with clean cups. How did she know where everything was? Last night she had been sitting sniffling and crying, too upset to watch them making a pot of tea. Once again the feeling that Lilith was not what she seemed washed over Agnes.
When the teapot was on the table along with clean cups, Agnes turned the tap off and took a clean tea towel from the wooden rail to wrap around
her arm, blotting it dry. She forced herself to sit back down. The back of her throat felt parched she was so thirsty. Lilith began to pour fresh cups of tea and passed one to her.
‘Now you be careful, Sister Agnes. We don’t want you burning yourself again, do we. There is nothing worse than the lingering slow burn of hot liquid on such delicate skin.’
Agnes took the teacup and blew on it. She hoped that her trembling hands wouldn’t betray her and spill this one all over. She prayed even harder that Lilith wouldn’t notice the trembling was in fact pure fear and would put it down to old age.
‘Thank you, dear, that’s very kind of you. I didn’t sleep very well last night. I think I’m still half asleep.’
Lilith smiled, making the skin on the back of Agnes’s neck crawl. Later on that night she would describe to Father Patrick that she thought being stared at by Lilith was how it must feel to be a fly trapped in a spider’s web.
‘I have to say I’m very fortunate that I stumbled across this place last night. I thought I was going to freeze to death out there – it was so cold. Thank you so much for giving me permission to come in.’
She nodded at Agnes as she spoke. Agnes’s head was spinning. What was this about? Almost every sentence Lilith said seemed to have a hidden meaning to it. Or was that just her taking everything and twisting it to fit her mindset? At a loss for words, she forced herself to smile at Lilith. Thank you for giving me permission to come in. Agnes felt as if her brain was screaming at her, warning her, only she couldn’t work out what her subconscious was trying to tell her. The sound of heavy footsteps running down the stairs broke the awkward silence between the two women as Sister Edith breezed in.
‘Good morning, Mother Superior, how are you today?’ She looked down at the white linen tea towel wrapped around Agnes’s arm and gasped.
‘Oh my goodness, what’s wrong? Have you hurt yourself?’
‘It was just an accident, Edith – my own silly fault. Good morning, I trust you slept well?’
‘Do you want me to take a look at it?’
Agnes shook her head. She didn’t want Lilith looking at it again and giving her an excuse to get too close to her. ‘No it’s fine; it’s nothing honestly.’
‘I did sleep well, but I had the strangest dreams. To be honest I can’t believe it’s morning already. The night passed by so fast I feel as if I haven’t been to bed.’ Edith smiled at Lilith then busied herself making breakfast for everyone. By the time the porridge was bubbling on the stove and the thick crusty bread had been sliced ready to spread with butter and jam, Sister Mary still hadn’t appeared and Agnes stood up.
‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll just go and see if Mary is okay. It’s not like her to oversleep when you’re banging around in the kitchen, Edith. I’ll be back down shortly. Please don’t wait for me – just tuck in.’
Agnes would normally make all three of them say prayers before they ate, but for some reason the thought of praying in front of that woman made her feel queasy. Today she would do her praying to God in private as far away as possible from Lilith. She went upstairs and knocked on Mary’s door. There was no reply.
‘Mary, is everything okay? Do you need anything? Are you ill?’
There was no sound from inside the room. Agnes put her ear against the heavy wooden door to listen. There was no movement and Mary – who was a heavy sleeper and snored quite loudly, much to Edith’s annoyance – wasn’t making any noise whatsoever.
Cold tendrils of fear began to creep up Agnes’s spine. She tried the door handle; it was locked. So Mary had been worried enough last night that she’d had to lock her bedroom door as well. That made two of them. She would take Edith to one side and ask her if she had done the same. Agnes lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Still there was no movement from inside the room. She knocked again, much harder this time and shouted, ‘Mary!’
A hand on her shoulder made her jump and Agnes turned to see Edith standing there.
‘Come on, Mary, what did you do last night after we all went to bed? Did you have a go at the cooking sherry again? Open the door and come get your breakfast.’
***
Edith smiled at Agnes, expecting Mary to tell her to bugger off any second.
The last time they hadn’t been able to rouse Mary, she had finished off half a bottle of whisky Father Patrick had left behind. Oh it had been funny to watch Mary walking around with her head in her hands and being sick every time someone mentioned food the day after. Agnes didn’t like them to be mean to each other, but it was only a bit of a laugh. Edith knocked much harder than the older woman ever could. She stopped briefly then began to hammer on the door with her fist.
Agnes reached out her hand to stop her. ‘Something’s wrong. We need to get into that room. Have you got a spare key?’
Edith shook her head. ‘No, sorry. I should have told you when it happened. I misplaced the key ring you gave me last year with all the spares on and seeing as how we don’t normally lock our doors, I didn’t think it really mattered that much.’
‘Edith, what are you like? How are we going to get in there now? I’ll have to phone Father Patrick or Constable Crosby to come and break the door open.’
***
Agnes turned to see Lilith standing at the top of the stairs watching them and she shivered.
‘Is everything all right, ladies? What’s the matter with Sister Mary?’
Agnes ignored her and squeezed past her to go downstairs. As she did a faint whiff of something gone off filled her nostrils. Where was that smell coming from? It smelt like meat that had been left too long and was on the turn. She left Edith knocking on Mary’s door and Lilith standing watching. She picked up the phone and dialled Constable Crosby. The relief when he answered the phone almost made her cry.
‘It’s Sister Agnes from the convent. Please can you come as quickly as possible? We can’t get into Sister Mary’s room and she isn’t answering anyone. We’ve knocked ever so hard and shouted very loudly. I’m afraid she’s taken ill.’
‘I’m on my way, Agnes.’
She put the heavy receiver down. It really was most unlike Mary to lock her door. As she went back upstairs, Lilith was now seated on the top step picking at her long, deep red painted fingernails.
‘Is there anything you want me to do?’
Leave! screamed a voice inside Agnes’s mind, although she would never say that. She was far too polite and that wouldn’t be a very charitable thing to do. She knew that Father Patrick would be disappointed in her lack of empathy for a fellow human being.
‘No, thank you, I don’t believe there is. Can I ask how long will you be staying here, Lilith? Do you have family or friends you can stop with?’
The words came out before she could stop herself. A loud knock on the front door broke the interaction between the two women. Agnes went downstairs to let a rather red-faced Constable Crosby inside.
‘By heck it’s cold out there, Agnes. I didn’t think the patrol car was going to start. Have you woken Mary up yet?’
‘No we haven’t. There’s no answer. I can’t even hear her snoring and trust me, Crosby, she has on occasion snored so loud that it’s kept me awake all night.’
Crosby chuckled at the thought of a nun snoring. ‘Right then, you better show me which one is her bedroom. I have to say I never thought I’d get to see the day I saw the inside of a nun’s bedroom.’
He winked at Agnes who shook her head. He was a loud, brash and sometimes funny man who was also very good at his job. He was a big help whenever they had cause to ask him for any. She led him upstairs. Lilith was now standing across the hall from Mary’s bedroom with Edith. Her slender arms were crossed and she smiled at Crosby, who looked at her and smiled right back.
‘A new recruit into God’s army, Agnes?’
Lilith began to giggle. ‘I’m afraid not, Constable. I don’t think he would let me join. I’m not a very good girl.’
She winked at him and Agn
es noted the faint redness creeping up his neck. She pointed to Mary’s room and he strode across and hammered on the door with his fist. It was so loud it echoed around the hall; in fact it was so loud Agnes was sure it would wake a deaf person.
Constable Crosby stopped to listen at the door. Silence greeted him. Agnes felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. They didn’t need a policeman to tell them something was wrong. He lifted his foot and kicked the door. It moved a little, not much. So he stepped back then barged the door using his shoulder and putting his substantial weight behind it. The door splintered and cracked. He looked over his shoulder at Agnes. They both knew the noise he was making was loud enough to wake the dead, so why hadn’t Mary opened the door?
As he launched himself at the door once more, it gave with a loud splintering sound and he stumbled forwards. He seemed to be trying to take in the sight before him, but his eyes would not or could not register what he was seeing. Agnes motioned with her hand for Edith and Lilith to wait there. She stepped in behind Crosby and, just as he had, she looked around trying to understand what it was she was seeing. The normally white walls were covered in splatters of red. The smell hit them both at the same time, making them gag. Agnes lifted her hand and made the sign of the cross. Crosby uttered one word: ‘Fuck.’
It had taken hours before the police had taken Mary’s body away. Father Patrick had taken them all into the front room where they’d prayed for Mary’s soul. There was no way she had killed herself and it couldn’t be murder either, could it? Constable Crosby had needed to break the door down himself. The windows were shut and locked from the inside.
Agnes’s first thought had been that somehow Lilith’s husband had gained entry into the house, looking for his wife, and killed Mary by mistake. Then she realised it had been her who had unlocked the front door to let the constable inside and all the locks and bolts had still been fastened. It didn’t make any sense and throughout everything Lilith had kept very quiet. She hadn’t suggested it was her husband and she had taken to her room, locking herself inside.