One Way Ticket

by Evie Evans

  “Yes, it’s part of the Atlas monastery.”

  “In the mountains? The Atlas monastery in the mountains?” I asked, my heartbeat rising.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re going back to the monstery monastery!” I almost shouted at Addi in horror.

  “The what?”

  “Atlas monastery - dark, grey, ugly building, as much charm as a Victorian insane asylum?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it, but I suppose it isn’t the best looking place.”

  “Best looking? It’s a horrible, creepy place.”

  The scenery flashed past as the car took us nearer and nearer to what was beginning to feel like my doom.

  “Can you drop me off somewhere and I’ll wait for you?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Drop me off. I know this sounds silly but that place gives me the creeps. If I’d known where we were going I would never have agreed to it.”

  “There isn’t anywhere nearby, the nearest village is about 20km away. Don’t worry, it’ll be alright. It’s a very well regarded place.”

  “Not by me.” I sank back in my seat, bottom lip thrust out.

  “You can sit in the car park when we get there.”

  I couldn’t believe we were going back to that place. Maybe I’d watched too many horror films but something about it felt evil. Despite what my aunt thought, I wasn’t usually one for hysterics and I was surprised myself at the strength of feeling this place brought out in me.

  I spent the next hour twisting myself into knots, hoping for the car to breakdown so we would never arrive, but all the time we just got closer and closer until the monastery tower appeared in the distance, swamping the skyline.

  My hands felt clammy as Addi pulled the car into the car park.

  “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  The rain was falling harder now, creating a deafening racket on the car roof. The grey sky reduced visibility, making everything dark and brooding. The monastery tower could still be seen though, looming ominously overhead. It was hard to imagine people really came here to feel better. It just needed a bolt of lightening flashing through the sky to create the perfect horror scene. I wasn’t going to sit here on my own.

  “Yes, hold on,” I told him, scrambling to get out of the car, “I’ll come with you.”

  We ran through the rain to the front door where, to my relief, a different, normal looking monk stood ready to greet us. He gave us directions to the Priory at the rear of the complex with a pleasant smile.

  “Let’s try to be quick, shall we?” I asked Addi as we followed the signs. It had taken nearly two hours to get here

  and it would be dark in another two. Under no circumstances did I want to be hanging around here then.

  “This woman is a suspect in a murder case. A case I want to get closed. We’ll be as long as we need be.”

  Crossing a small courtyard, we’d just reached the other side when the rain turned torrential and started pouring down like a pure sheet of water. I tried not to read it as an omen.

  “I thought it didn’t rain much here? What happened to the drought?” I asked, once we were in the dry.

  “It’s not as bad as it was,” Addi replied as we tried to shake off as much water as we could from our clothes. “This still isn’t enough rain.”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked. My fringe was sticking to my forehead, causing rivulets of water to run down my cheeks.

  “It all falls at once, what do they call it? A flashing?”

  “A flash flood, I think you mean.”

  “Most of this water will run off, it’ll be lost. It’s very sad.”

  “Yeah, what you really need is a long spell of it raining all day, every day. Works wonders back home for cheering people up.”

  We’d reached the inside of the retreat. It was surprisingly bright and inviting. Paying guests obviously warranted such luxuries as paint on the walls and carpets, better yet, they had chosen some decent colours (not brown).

  There was an excruciating forty minute wait whilst Miss Allen finished her self help group (I couldn’t help wondering why it was called ‘self’ help if she was paying royally for it, I read the price list in the waiting room). Next, we had to wait for her to change into clothes that ‘would be more receptive to our questioning’, the rain pouring down the whole time and the sky darkening ever further. I was in agonies.

  “If you think she is the murderer, can you just arrest her? We don’t have to wait for back up, do we?”

  “She’d pretty much have to confess for me to arrest her.”

  “Why? Roger Bale didn’t confess. You arrested him.”

  “He lied. I’d probably have to contact the local police to let them know if I want to arrest this woman.”

  Crap. That sounded time consuming.

  I looked at my watch again. “Do you think she’s done a runner?”

  I was still explaining what that meant when Louise Allen finally appeared.

  At 51 years old, she was just old enough to have lived through the seventies, and it looked like she was trying to relive them again now. Her outfit was some kind of wafty kaftan with a lengthy string of beads cast artlessly on top. Her (dyed) blonde hair was worn straight, long and loose around her face. She could have been a size 8 or 18 in that baggy garment (it looked quite comfy actually).

  I could tell straightaway she wasn’t the killer (don’t ask me how I can do this, it must be some kind of gift). A tiny part of me was annoyed that we still hadn’t found Tina’s murderer, but mostly I was relieved we would be leaving quite quickly.

  Or so I thought. Addi had decided to go into full police mode. He started lecturing Miss Allen on her disappearance.

  “I didn’t want people to know where I was,” she explained. “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “It looks suspicious that you disappeared just after Tina Lloyd died.”

  “Tina? What’s that got to do with me?”

  “You didn’t think that we would need to speak to her friends?”

  “I guess I didn’t think about that. I wasn’t good friends with her.”

  I tried to follow their conversation but it was difficult to spare the time from checking my watch every minute.

  “How long have you been here?” I heard Addi ask her.

  “Since the 7th of October.”

  Four days after Tina’s death.

  “And what are you being treated for?”

  I looked up from my watch to hear her answer.

  “Stress,” she replied, suddenly looking down at the floor.

  Stress? On this holiday island? She couldn’t be short of a bob or two, not if she’d been staying here for six weeks. What did she have to be stressed about? Was she the murderer? Could I have been wrong? (I know, hard to believe.)

  “Not your love life?” I quickly gambled.

  Louise Allen stared at me for a moment as if I’d said something amazing, before blinking a couple of times and looking away again. “No, just stress.”

  It felt like I had just touched a nerve. “Anything in particular bring that on?” I pushed.

  “Just everyday life. It’s a strain sometimes, isn’t it? I’ve come here to recharge.”

  Perhaps she had a mother like Addi’s.

  “When was the last time you saw Tina Lloyd?” Addi asked as I went back to my second hand.

  “Ages ago. Just after the summer. I only knew her very slightly really.”

  Funny how everyone said that.

  “Do you know if she was involved with anyone at the end?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t keep up with her love life.”

  Did I detect a hint of sarcasm there? Maybe a tinge of bitterness? Was she a scorned lover? I should know one when I see one.

  I looked at my watch again and realised we were less than thirty minutes away from sunset, not that there was much sunlight around with the rain still pounding down.

  Addi went over her answ
ers one more time, hoping to trip Louise Allen up, but she stuck to the same story - she hadn’t seen Tina, didn’t know of any reason why anyone would want to kill her, didn’t know who she was involved with. I wasn’t as convinced about her innocence now, she was definitely covering something up but there didn’t seem to be a way of cracking her.

  “I guess that’s all,” Addi eventually told her grudgingly and let her go. I could see he was disappointed we hadn’t been able to prise the truth out of her, or gotten any closer to finding our murderer, but I just wanted to get out of there.

  “We’ll be leaving in a minute,” he assured me, “Just as soon as I’ve confirmed what she said with someone that works here.”

  It took a few more precious minutes for us to track a staff member down, followed by another wait as they looked for Louise Allen’s file, couldn’t find it at first, and had to look somewhere else. I thought about giving them Sergeant H’s number to get the details of his filing system but it would have wasted valuable time.

  After all that, they refused to give any information on her treatment without a warrant, and would only confirm the date she’d arrived.

  Darkness was falling by the time Addi had finished venting his annoyance at them and I succeeded in dragging him away. The monastery took on an extra sinister feel in the gloom and I felt chills run down my spine as we dashed back across the courtyard to the main building. It was very disconcerting because I’m not usually easily spooked, but there was something about this place that felt wrong and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  To my horror, the Vincent Price monk was standing at the door to the monastery. As we approached, it was clear he was there to talk to us.

  “Bad news,” he began in the voice that had disturbed me before, as soon as we got inside. “Part of the road has been washed away in the downpour. It’s on a dangerous bend, the police have closed the road totally.” He didn’t sound particularly sad when he said it.

  “There’s another way out, isn’t there?” I whispered feebly to Addi.

  “I’m afraid not,” my mad monk answered. “There is only the one road. Do not worry, you are welcome to spend the night here.”

  I don’t know how I managed to stay upright. Sleep here? In Dracula’s castle? It was all I could do to turn and stare at Addi, another look of horror plastered on my face.

  “Thank you, father,” Addi told him. “You are most kind.”

  “I will go make the arrangements,” my mad monk told us, smiling, and left.

  I found a convenient bench nearby and collapsed on it. It was a few moments before I realised I was actually hyperventilating.

  “Jennifer, calm down,” Addi told me. “There isn’t anything we can do. There’ll probably be a way out in the morning, in daylight.”

  “Doesn’t the police force have a helicopter?” I managed to gasp out between heaves.

  “For emergencies only.”

  “This is an emergency! I can’t spend a night here.” I dropped my voice a little. “We’ve only got his word for it the road’s been closed, what if it’s a lie? What if they’re trying to keep us here?”

  “Why?”

  “Who knows what foul deeds go on here? They could be up to anything – human trafficking, ritual sacrifice, tupperware parties. We should go check out the road ourselves.”

  “And if it is closed?”

  “We can sleep in the car.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This sort of thing happens when there’s a lot of rain after a drought, there’s nothing sinister going on. Besides, it’s far too cold here at night to sleep in the car.”

  “Cold? People in Swindon walk home from nightclubs in vests and miniskirts in weather worse than this.” (And I’m not necessarily just talking about the women.) “This isn’t cold.”

  “You liked the retreat part. We’ll see if we can sleep in there. It’ll be alright.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself to try and curtail a sudden bout of shivering. “I have a bad feeling about this place.”

  Addi pulled his phone out of his pocket and frowned at it. “It’s a monastery, a place of peace and harmony… Have you got your phone on you?”

  I rooted in my bag, found it in the depths, and handed it over. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t get a signal on mine. I really need to phone my mother and tell her I won’t be home tonight.”

  “Don’t tell her you’re with me. She may not understand.”

  He handed me my phone back. “I won’t be telling her anything, your phone’s got no signal either.”

  A shudder ran through me as the realisation that we were stranded here with no means of communication hit me. “You mean we can’t tell anyone we’re trapped here?”

  “Don’t be silly, Jennifer,” Addi told me sharply. We sat quietly, looking miserable.

  “Have you ever watched ‘Masque of the Red Death’?” I asked after a few moments.

  “No, what’s that, a film?”

  I nodded. “Vincent Price plays this evil bloke who lives in a castle. He throws a party when everyone outside is dying from the plague.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “That monk reminds me of him, and this place is a bit like the castle.”

  “Jennifer−”

  “I’m just saying, that’s all. We’re living in a horror film.”

  “We’re not. You’re living in your imagination.”

  We waited quietly for a few moments more.

  “During the party, Death arrives and starts infecting the guests with the plague,” I told him.

  “I don’t think you should watch that stuff−”

  “And Vincent Price enjoys it, wants to join in.”

  “They’re not having a party here, they don’t do parties here, there’s no comparison.”

  “Hello!” a voice behind us chimed, making both of us jump. A young monk was standing in the corridor, beaming at us. “I hear you’re going to be our guests?”

  Addi and I nodded as we got up.

  “Wonderful, because we’re having a party tonight.”

  Addi caught me as my knees buckled.

  20 Before The Dawn

  The young man went to get me a cup of tea and to show Addi where their landline telephone was. That left me sitting there all alone on the wooden bench, listening to the rain on the windows mixing with the strange noises and creaks the old building produced. I tried whistling but it echoed horribly around the bare stone walls and I quickly gave up.

  After a short while, I heard sharp footsteps on stone in the distance echoing around the walls, steadily getting louder and louder. Each step seemed to correspond with the beat of my heart which thudded harder and harder each time. Straining in the half-light, I looked up and down the long corridor but the ends disappeared into darkness and I couldn’t see anyone there. I couldn’t even tell, because of the echoes, which direction the footsteps were coming from. The steps just carried on, getting louder and louder, the unknown being getting closer and closer with each moment. I peered both ways again but still no one was in sight. My heart was racing as I struggled to see in the darkness what creature was bearing down on me.

  The footsteps were booming now, whatever it was must be only a few feet away. Just when I thought my nerves could take no more, Addi sailed round a concealed corner brandishing a cup and saucer.

  “Here you go,” he announced and plonked the cup down in my trembling hands, not seeming to notice the look of terror on my face. “I got through to my mother. She wasn’t happy.”

  “I hope you didn’t tell her I was here,” I said when I’d recovered enough to get my mouth working again.

  “No, but she still didn’t sound happy. I wish she was more like your aunt, I rang her too, she was fine about it.”

  Probably because my aunt would by now be on the phone inviting her boyfriend over to take advantage of the empty house.

  “They’re going to come to take us to dinner in a minute,” Addi tol
d me as I tried to raise the cup to my lips with shaking hands.

  “It may not be a bad thing, having to stay here,” he continued. “We can try having another word with that Allen woman in the morning. See if we can get her to tell the truth this time. We could solve this murder yet.”

  I groaned. Work was the last thing on my mind.

  “What about this party?” I managed at last.

  “That monk didn’t say any more. He seems very nice though, his name’s Nikos.”

  “If they’re wearing masks, I’m telling you now, I’m leaving, even if I have to walk all night.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s probably just a little birthday party for someone. This is a religious place, remember? What can possibly happen?”

  “You haven’t seen ‘The Wicker Man’, have you?”

  Addi groaned. “Not another film?”

  “They’re all religious in that and the stranger in their midst comes off very badly.”

  “What religion’s that?”

  “Well, it’s one they’ve sort of made up.”

  “Will you stop it,” Addi hissed as our young monk, Brother Nikos, returned.

  “All ready?” Brother Nikos asked. “I’m so excited about this, I love a party don’t you?”

  “Sometimes,” I mumbled as I put my cup down.

  He led us through a maze of corridors that felt as if we were being taken into the very bowels of the building.

  “It’s very kind of you to let us come,” Addi told him, looking pointedly at me. I was too busy to respond, trying to keep note of all the turns we were taking, wishing I had a pocket full of breadcrumbs to drop.

  “It’s our pleasure, the more the merrier!”

  “I’m a bit surprised you’re allowed parties here,” Addi remarked.

  “Oh, it’s only recently they’ve let us have them. They’re trying to be more modern. We love this kind of party.”

  “What kind of party is that?” I forced myself to ask as we came to a halt outside a plain wooden door from which a loud hum was emanating.

  “It’s brilliant,” Brother Nikos cried, throwing the door open. The singing hit us first, a very bad rendition of ‘Climb Every Mountain’, before I spotted the elderly man in the corner with a microphone. “Karaoke!”