44 Gilmore Street

by Shani Struthers

  All five stood perfectly still, Ruby feeling the power of love and light emanating from her colleagues. It was so strong, she felt bathed in it. Surely it was having an effect on Ben too, a positive effect that is.

  Come on, Ben, where are you?

  Was he hiding? Was that it? Despite his defiance the other day, had they cowed him? If so, he might be more amenable to moving on. And if he were the show would be over. The fuss would die down. Unlike the Enfield case, which went on for months and months, this would be a paltry one-day affair as far as the public were concerned – nothing in comparison, disappointing – certainly not the stuff of books, films and drama. She found herself fervently hoping. Please, please, let it be that easy. What joy if it was! She’d grab Cash, Corinna too, maybe even cajole Theo and Ness into it too, head to the pub and celebrate – buy the first round, the second, even the third. Damn it, she’d buy the entire pub a drink she’d be that relieved.

  “Ben,” she called again. “You need to go to the light. Leave the Gordon family in peace and find peace yourself. And you will find it, Ben, because that’s what there is on the other side. Peace. You’re holding on to such negative emotions, but you don’t have to, you can let them go. There’s no judgement in the light either if you’re worried about that – you’ll be welcomed because that’s where you belong. Go, Ben, go now.”

  The atmosphere was as still as a millpond. No creaking of cupboards warning of an attack to come, no mugs hovering threateningly in mid-air, no kettle boiling. Ruby could feel hope radiate from her centre outwards.

  “Has it worked?” Corinna whispered. “Has he gone?”

  “I don’t know, I can’t sense him,” replied Ruby. And she couldn’t, it was as if the room was indeed empty. She dared to let hope envelop her.

  “He has, he’s gone—”

  “Wait!” The command had come from Ness. Ruby turned to look at her. “Something’s wrong.”

  “But the kitchen’s empty,” began Ruby but Theo interrupted.

  “It’s not the kitchen you’re referring to is it?”

  From behind them they heard a scream.

  “What the hell—” Ruby swung fully round.

  It was Samantha.

  Cash was already moving forward and the others followed at his heel. In the hallway, they found the door to the living room was closed – had Samantha done that? Cash tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

  Another scream pierced the air. It wouldn’t be only them who heard it; the reporters were sure to as well.

  “Cash, open the damn door.”

  “Erm… hello… that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

  And he was, she couldn’t deny it. He was throwing the full weight of his body against the painted wood and still it wouldn’t budge.

  “Is there a lock or something?” Ruby said, her eyes lowering to the handle.

  “It’s Ben that’s stopping us,” Ness explained. “He can’t keep it up though, the door will weaken soon. Keep trying, Cash.”

  Cash did as he was told.

  Bitch!

  The word was whispered in Ruby’s ear.

  Fucking stupid bitch!

  It was much louder this time. She whipped her head from side to side.

  “Where are you, Ben? Where the hell are you?”

  “Right now, he’s everywhere,” Theo answered. “His presence is filling this house. Visualise white light and remember, Ruby, words can’t hurt you.”

  No, but implements could and Samantha was in the living room with a ton of them, including the knives. There came a cry from within.

  “Let me out, let me out. Please let me out!”

  “We’re coming, Sam, don’t be frightened. We’ve just got to get the door open,” Ruby yelled back.

  “It’s not locked!”

  “It’s, erm… it’s stuck, Sam,” Ruby improvised. “Come on, Cash, come on.”

  “What’s happening? I don’t understand.”

  “Sam, hold on, we won’t be long.”

  Samantha was getting very distressed. So was Ruby. Why, oh, why had they moved the knives in there? A loud thud from inside confirmed Ben had resorted once again to throwing things. There was also the smash of glass. Poor Samantha – she was in the line of fire, at Ben’s mercy. They had to get in there to get her out. She focussed on the door, knowing Theo, Ness and Corinna were too. Ruby willed it to open as Cash started kicking at it. A door did indeed fly open, but it was not the one they wanted. It was the front door, as suddenly and as violently as if a howling wind had got behind it.

  Ruby’s eyes widened in shock as reporters came pouring down the narrow hallway, a crowd of them, heading straight for Ruby and the team, desperate for a ringside seat. Jed appeared, barking at them, trying to have a psychic impact, but they continued forwards, completely unaware.

  “Cash!” she shouted.

  “Just… one… more… kick.” He sounded so out of breath. “One… more.”

  That had to be the case. It had to be! The damn door was fractured from the amount of abuse it’d taken. They’d be able to walk through it at this rate.

  “There!”

  The door gave way – finally.

  There was no time to thank him as the reporters were upon them. They all started to surge forwards and then – as though they were one entity – they stopped. Samantha was at the far end of the room crouching as Ben had crouched – the only difference was her hands were covering her face, hiding her eyes. Around her lay an array of broken goods, china primarily, the knives thankfully untouched. Even so, as Cash had pointed out, all implements thrown at high speed were dangerous. Had she been hit? Was she hurt? Before Ruby could find out, the kettle shot upwards as though it had rocket fuel beneath it. Ruby frowned. Ben seemed to have a fixation with the kettle. Not able to ask him why, knowing he wouldn’t give her an answer, she stared instead. They all did, even Samantha couldn’t deny her curiosity. She was peeking between her fingers. Who was he going to throw the object at? Samantha? One of the reporters? One of the Psychic Surveys team? Ruby herself? It wasn’t a plastic kettle more’s the pity. It was aluminium, heavy enough, heavier still if it was full of water. She hadn’t removed it from the kitchen, one of the others had. Had they thought to empty it beforehand? Everyone tensed. Even so, those with cameras had fingers poised, ready to press down, to capture that all-important moment.

  “Ben,” Ruby called out, “this is getting you nowhere. Drop the kettle now.”

  She was getting tired of his games, tired of him. Why are you doing this?

  Theo, realising the way she was feeling, intercepted. “Ben, I know you’re frightened, I understand that, but please, this has to stop. Listen to us. Communicate with us. Tell us what’s wrong. We can help you.”

  Fuck off!

  The words were spat at Theo as well as Ruby, although only the psychic could hear how caustic they were. Ruby glanced at Theo, saw how worried her expression was, Ness’s too. The reporters might not have been able to hear anything but they could certainly see and Ben knew that. He was going to play right into their hands: a deliberate act of spite.

  “Samantha!” screamed Ruby. “Grab a cushion, place it over your head.” To the reporters, she yelled, “Duck!”

  But the kettle wasn’t hurled at them. With an almighty cry of rage, it was hurled at the window, smashing easily through the thin pane of glass to land at the feet of those who were still outside. As it did the sound of cameras flashing was worse than any curse Ben could conjure up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next day Ruby didn’t look at the papers, she didn’t even leave her flat, but worked from home instead, hoping her office wasn’t besieged. God knows what the solicitors below would think if it was. They knew what she did for a living, most people in Lewes did, but as she was always very professional about it, so were they. She’d never invited press coverage before. And to be fair, she hadn’t this time but the press had found her – with a vengeance. She had severa
l calls to make, clients who’d rung, wanting an initial survey. But as she called them back responses were lukewarm.

  “Do you know, I think I might have been imagining things,” said one, a woman who had previously complained of footsteps on her landing in the night despite living alone. “You know how it is. You watch a few scary movies and tend to get carried away. I’ll stick to rom-com from now on.”

  She was one of the more polite ones. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve changed my mind,” was the only explanation offered by another.

  So, you’ve seen the papers, she wanted to ask but daren’t. She didn’t want to know what was in them, even though Cash had been on the phone too, saying she needed to face up to it, hit back even.

  “Bloody cheek,” he fumed, “what they’re calling you.”

  “Don’t, Cash, just don’t.”

  “I’ll come round, work from yours,” he offered.

  “No, I’ve got Jed here, that’s enough company for now.”

  “Charming.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I… just… look, you said I needed a break, well today I’m going to rest up. It seems no one wants me anyway.”

  “Are people cancelling on you already?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Has Theo or Ness been on the phone?”

  “Yep, and Corinna. I’ve told them the same thing. I’m just going to take the day off. Tomorrow I’ll form a plan of action with everyone.”

  “Tomorrow? Haven’t you got the regression with Ellie tomorrow?”

  “In the morning, but the afternoon’s free. Well, it is now.”

  “And Samantha, have you spoken to her?”

  “Not since yesterday. Theo helped her over to Delia’s and that’s where she’s going to stay. If this case can’t be solved within a reasonable time, she’s got a sister in Hove she can move in with. Either way, they’re not going back to number 44, not until Benjamin’s been dealt with.”

  “The poor Gordons,” Cash sympathised.

  “I know. I feel sorry for them too. She still wants our help though. Those around us might be losing faith but she’s flying the flag for Psychic Surveys.”

  The words were delivered wearily and Cash must have sensed this.

  “You’ll crack this case, Ruby, you always do.”

  Maybe, but what would it cost her to do so? Her career or her sanity? Right now it felt like they were both going down the pan. Saying goodbye to Cash, she finished up the round of phone calls, took the phone off the hook, lay back on the sofa and watched telly instead, avoiding the local news too.

  Wednesday dawned and Ruby forced herself to get out of bed. Business was business. She wouldn’t be deterred. Perhaps she was overreacting anyway. Today’s headlines might be about something else entirely. Even if they were, it didn’t solve the problem of Benjamin. They needed to go back there, try again. Would there be a different outcome? Was it possible to simply wear him down? Samantha said they could return at any time. Well, she’d give it another day – perhaps two or three. By then the reporters would have got fed up of camping out, especially if it rained. Fervently, she hoped for a spot of inclement weather, a thunderstorm perhaps, lightning, a hurricane – anything to drive them away. She’d decide on a return date with the others this afternoon. But first there was Ellie to contend with.

  Leaving her flat, she half expected to run the gamut of reporters there too – as Ellie had said regarding her birth mother, finding out where someone lived was hardly difficult nowadays. She was heartened to find the coast clear, perhaps interest really had moved on. Diving into her Ford, she deliberately took the road past her office – a car was parked outside, two men sitting in it, glancing at her building every now and then. Again she was heartened; there wasn’t a pack of them, just a measly pair. Then again, as before, the emphasis would probably be on the house at Gilmore Street. She’d have to phone Samantha and see. She still hadn’t seen news coverage and nor did she want too. She sailed past her office, down the road to Ness’s, keeping her eyes firmly on the road.

  Ness answered the door promptly. “Good to see you, Ruby, come in.”

  Ushered through to the living room, Ailsa and Ellie were sitting, glasses of water placed before them. “Would you like one too?” Ness asked.

  “No thanks,” Ruby replied. “Perhaps we should start soon, our meeting this afternoon…”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  Ailsa looked at Ruby. “Before we get cracking, I’d like to discuss with you what we have in mind today. I’ve discussed it with Ellie and she’s in agreement.” Ellie smiled in acquiescence as she said it.

  Ness had already placed a chair by Ailsa, so Ruby went over and sat next to her, once again admiring her copious amounts of ‘owl’ jewellery.

  “Go ahead,” she said, listening.

  Ailsa cleared her throat. In her own way she was as theatrical as Theo. The pair of them would make a fascinating double act. “We’re going back to the same life but we’re going to be dipping in and out of it, exploring happier memories and some that are not so happy, leading us up to the point Ellie can’t get beyond, neither during regressions, in dreams or in visions. Today, our aim is to break that barrier.” She focussed on Ellie. “It’s a bold move I know but I feel the time has come. You said yourself your dreams are becoming more vivid, the flashbacks too. The last thing I want is for you to make that breakthrough when you’re on your own. It could be too distressing. At least with us, it’s in a controlled environment. Does that make sense?”

  When she put it like that, Ruby thought it did.

  “Ellie, did you tell Ailsa what you told me on Monday, concerning the timeframe?” Ruby asked.

  “Yeah, I’m almost certain now it’s sometime in the sixties. I’ve been doing what you suggested, looking at pictures of that period, and they do seem to click, the fashion, the décor, everything. Even though it’s so long ago.”

  Ness pulled a face. “So long ago? Hardly.”

  “Fifty years have passed,” Ailsa reminded her.

  “Fifty years? Good grief! I suppose so. How time flies.”

  Nobody could disagree with that.

  “Right, let’s get going shall we?” Ailsa suggested. “Ellie, are you ready?”

  “I am,” replied Ellie, kicking off her shoes and lying on the couch.

  “I love it when he laughs, he doesn’t look so moody then. It’s his eyes that get me. I’ve never seen eyes like them before. They’re… depthless.”

  “So you can see him can you?”

  “Just his eyes, but I know he’s laughing, I can hear that well enough.”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re in bed. It’s our first time. Well, my first time. I was a virgin. All that talk of saving yourself for your husband, it’s so old-fashioned, nobody does that nowadays. Mind you, a part of me wanted to do exactly that. But he thinks it’s old-fashioned too. He gave me something to drink beforehand, said it would relax me. Told me if I let go, let him take over, I’d like it.”

  “And did you? Like it I mean?”

  “I… yes, of course. I like him. I more than like him. I’m falling in love.”

  “Regarding the sex, you don’t sound so sure.”

  “It was a little rough, but just a little. He’s a man though and that’s what it’s like with men. They’re not like women. They’re not gentle. They don’t know how to be. It hurt… you know, the actual act. But it does hurt. I’ve heard my friends talking about it. I expected it to hurt. He’s laughing again. He’s telling me about someone in his family, how he got one over on them. His brother, is it? I think so. His eldest brother. He’s always felt in his shadow, looked down upon. But not anymore, he’s stitched him up good and proper, that’s what he said. I’m not sure how, he won’t say exactly. But he’s told the police something and his brother’s in trouble. Might even go to prison. The thought seems to delight him. Says he’ll get what’s coming to him, what he deserves, that he should h
ave been locked up sooner. He wishes he could shop the lot of them. Get them all locked up. His family are bad; he’s trying to distance himself from them. I hate them because he does. I’m glad he’s got away.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to tell us about this memory? Where you are for example. Is it your house or his? Can you describe your surrounds?”

  “It’s not my house, and he doesn’t have a house. At the moment he lives in a caravan. It’s all a bit hazy, but I think that’s where we are – his caravan. There are nets at the window, they’re more grey than white. No curtains though. And it’s cold but I’m warm in his arms. That’s where I want to stay. Why is it still so hazy?”

  “Don’t worry about that. That’s normal.”

  “Is it? Because sometimes this doesn’t feel normal, it feels wrong.”

  “Wrong? You’ve said that before. How does it feel wrong?”

  “In a way I can’t explain. I don’t have the words for it.”

  “And yet you can explain other things. Your surroundings for example.”

  “I know but then… words seem to fail me. Everything goes dark instead, and silent. I’m silent.”

  “Let’s concentrate on memories. The more we can recall the more we’ll understand. When did you decide to run away?”

  “I… I don’t know how that decision came about. I wasn’t keen at first, I know that much. I love my parents. They’ve been good to me. I don’t want to hurt them. But he says it’s the only way. If we want to be together, I have to go away with him. I do want to be with him, he knows that, but I’m still upset. Very upset. Every time I think about leaving my parents I cry. And then he gets upset. He gets angry. I can see it in his eyes. He’s frustrated with me.”

  “If you love your parents, it’s understandable you don’t want to run away. But you did, we know that. How did he persuade you?”

  “He said he’d marry me. He got down on one knee and said he’d make all my dreams come true. I couldn’t believe it when he did. I was thrilled. There’s still the problem of my parents though. I want them to be at my wedding. But he says no, they don’t like him, they’d never agree. But once we’re married, they’ll have to like him, won’t they? He’ll be my husband, their son-in-law.”