by Linda Green
‘I want to see,’ said Ruby.
‘No,’ said James.
‘Let her,’ I said, ‘and then we’ll all sit down and have a chat.’
I stood up and opened the door. Ruby came downstairs and stepped tentatively forward, peering outside, then wrinkling her face and turning away.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s horrible. Now, I need to fill you both in on what’s happened.’
I took them through to the living room and sat them down on the sofa. It didn’t seem right, everyone still being in their pyjamas. It was a far too serious conversation to have in dressing-gowns.
‘After we left Grandma’s house yesterday I let the police know that there was a fairy statue in Andrea’s garden. They went to look under it to see if there were any more bones buried there and I’m afraid there were.’
Ruby and Maisie stared at me. Neither of them said anything, so I carried on.
‘The police have taken the bones away and they’re going to find out if they had anything to do with our family or not. But it has been on the radio and television news, which means lots of people know about it and you need to know that, in case anyone says anything when you go back to school.’
‘But why did someone put piggy bones on our step?’ Maisie said.
‘We don’t know, love. They probably did it as a joke but it wasn’t very funny, was it?’
Maisie shook her head.
‘So in a minute I’m going to phone the police and let them come and investigate.’
Ruby was fiddling with the belt of her dressing-gown, well aware that it was more serious than I was letting on.
‘The important thing to remember is that the police don’t think Great-grandma has done anything wrong and these latest bones may be nothing to do with her at all.’
‘What are you going to do with the piggy bones?’ asked Maisie.
‘I expect the police will take them away,’ I said.
‘Did the person who put the bones there kill the piggy?’
‘No, love. They’ll just have got them from the butcher’s.’
‘Now,’ said James, ‘how about you come and give me a hand with breakfast, as we’re all up?’
Maisie jumped off the sofa and followed him through to the kitchen.
‘Why are they trying to scare us?’ said Ruby, still fiddling.
‘I don’t think the people in Pecket Well like all the attention they’re getting on the news.’
‘It’s not our fault, though, is it?’
‘Some people don’t see it like that,’ I said.
‘It’s like we’re cursed,’ said Ruby.
‘Hey, come on. Don’t say things like that.’
‘Why not? That’s what everyone else is saying.’
*
The police arrived as James was about to leave for work. Two uniformed officers I hadn’t seen before. We’d told the girls to stay in their room so they wouldn’t have to see or hear anything more that might upset them. The younger officer took photographs before picking up the bones with gloved hands and putting them into a large plastic bag.
‘Any idea who’s behind it?’ the middle-aged officer asked.
‘Presumably the same person who left the notes,’ I replied. ‘But it’s been all over the news. It could be anyone.’
He took some more details while his colleague carried the bag back to the car.
‘Why don’t you go and see the butcher in town?’ asked James. ‘They might have got them from there.’
‘Aye. We’ll be making enquiries and we’ll let you know when we’ve got any further information.’
They got back into their car and drove off.
‘They’re not taking this seriously, are they?’ I said.
‘It could have been kids this time. You said it yourself, it’s been all over the news.’
‘No. Someone’s trying to get at me. Someone has something to hide.’
‘Come on, Nic. Whatever went on up there happened sixty or seventy years ago.’
‘Well, they could be trying to protect someone’s reputation, like I’m trying to protect Grandma’s. And whoever it is knows where we live.’
James hesitated on the doorstep. ‘Look, do you want me to cancel this job? I don’t mind staying home.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ I said, aware he was putting in a new bathroom and that we needed the money. ‘We’ll be fine.’
*
It was half past nine when I got a call from the estate agent.
‘Hi – Miss Hallstead? We’ve got a couple who are very keen to view your property. They’d like to come this afternoon.’
It was the one thing I hadn’t been expecting. With everything going on, I’d completely forgotten it was on the market. But I did know Ruby would have a complete meltdown if she was here when someone came to look around. It needed to be at a time when I could get them out of the house.
‘Oh, right. Er, this afternoon’s a bit difficult with it being half-term. Could they make it early evening at all?’
‘I’m afraid not. They’re not from the area and are going back to London later. It would have to be early afternoon but they do seem very keen.’
I didn’t know what to say. Moving to Grandma’s was the last thing I wanted to think about right now but, having made the decision to sell, it seemed crazy to turn away a potential buyer. I’d simply have to find someone to take the girls at short notice. ‘Shall we say two o’clock?’
‘Great. I’ll let them know. It’s a Mr and Mrs Hargreaves.’
I put the phone down. Any other time I would have rung Mum and asked if she’d have the girls. Clearly that was no longer an option. I tried to think who else I could ask. Ruby’s two best friends were away and she wasn’t close enough to anyone else for me to ask them. Besides, I didn’t know many of the mums, these days. Things were so different at the high school.
The trouble was, she wouldn’t want to go to Maisie’s friend Emily’s either. She’d say she was too old to hang out with little kids. And there was no way I was leaving Ruby at home on her own, not after what had just happened. I racked my brain and started scrolling through my phone, trying to find someone they’d both be happy to go to. The first name on my contact list was John’s. They’d enjoyed themselves last time – even Ruby seemed to like him. And he’d made it clear he’d love to see them again. I pressed the call button, and he answered after a few rings.
‘Hi, John, it’s Nicola,’ I said. ‘I hope you don’t mind me calling only I was wondering if you’d mind having the girls for an hour or so after lunch. I wouldn’t normally ask but we’ve got someone coming to view the house at short notice and I’m a bit stuck, what with Mum not being an option.’
He said nothing for a moment or two. Clearly he wasn’t used to being hired for baby-sitting duties. ‘Oh, right . . . I haven’t got owt in for them.’
‘That’s fine, they don’t need anything. But if it’s not convenient, please say.’
‘No, it’d be grand.’
‘Thank you so much. You’re a life-saver.’
‘I didn’t know you were planning to move,’ he said.
‘Well, I’ve been left Grandma’s house in the will.’
‘You’re moving there?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. You don’t think it’s a good idea, do you?’
‘I think it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Have you not seen the news this morning? They’ve found more bones.’
‘I know. It’s horrible. But Grandma wanted the house kept in the family. She asked me to leave it to Ruby.’
‘It’s not up to her, though, is it? It’s up to you do what’s best for your family. What does your mam say about it?’
‘She’s dead against it. Well, she was the last time she spoke to me, anyway.’
‘So you’ve got a choi
ce of upsetting your grandma, who’s no longer around, or your mam, who is.’
I hadn’t thought about it like that. Maybe John had a point. ‘I suppose, if you put it like that, it seems a bit daft.’
‘I understand you wanting to respect the wishes of the dead,’ he said, ‘but you need to think about respecting the wishes of the living too.’
‘You’re right. Look, I’d better go and get the house tidied. It’s too late to cancel this viewing but I promise I’ll think about what you said. And thanks again. I’ll drop the girls off about one o’clock, if that’s OK.’
‘Right you are.’
I put the phone down. I was glad I had John in my life. It was like finding a favourite uncle I’d never had, one who wasn’t afraid to give it to me straight but whose opinion might be worth listening to.
*
We stood on John’s doorstep as the church clock struck one. He did a double-take when he opened it and saw Ruby’s hair.
‘Thought I had wrong visitors for a moment,’ he said. ‘Makes you look right grown-up that hairdo does.’
Ruby smiled.
‘I had mine cut too but you can’t tell,’ said Maisie.
‘I hope they didn’t charge,’ said John. ‘You should only have to pay for it if you can tell.’
I smiled at him. ‘Thanks again, John. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to pick them up.’
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a grand time, won’t we?’
The girls followed him indoors.
*
Mr and Mrs Hargreaves were a nice couple, in their early thirties, no children, though I suspected from their questions about local schools that the plan was to start a family once they arrived. The path from Bohemian London coupledom to a stone-built family home in funky Hebden Bridge, within spitting distance of the Pennines, was a well-worn one.
I watched their expressions as they walked around the house, little sideways glances at each other, eyes full of excitement at the prospect of a new life together in an entirely different place. They didn’t have to tell me they liked it: it was written all over their faces.
After they’d had a final look around, they thanked me profusely for the opportunity to view at such short notice and shook my hand. As I opened the door to let them out, I checked discreetly that nothing had been left on the doorstep while they’d been inside. Somehow I could still see a few marks from the bones, still detect a faint smell of them, though I’d scrubbed it twice before they’d arrived. Fortunately, they were so wrapped up in their excitement they didn’t notice. I shut the door and leant back against it with my eyes closed.
It was all happening too quickly. After the events of yesterday and what John had said, I wasn’t sure the move to Grandma’s was right. I needed time to reconsider. To work out if this whole thing might be a huge mistake. And yet I had a horrible feeling the Hargreaveses were going to make an offer on the house, in which case we’d have to decide very quickly whether or not to accept it. And if we did, there would be no going back. We would be moving to Grandma’s. And whatever secrets were buried there would become ours.
*
John opened the door with a grinning Maisie at his side.
‘Hello,’ I said, ‘someone looks like they’ve had a good time.’
‘Uncle John was telling me funny stories about Grandma being naughty when she was little,’ said Maisie.
‘Really?’ I said, as I stepped inside. ‘I can’t imagine her ever being naughty.’
‘She was a bit rude and a bit cheeky,’ said Maisie. I looked at John.
‘Aye, she was,’ he said. ‘Used to run Betty ragged, she did.’
‘Maybe that’s where you get it from,’ I said, making a face at Maisie as I pulled up the scrunchie in her hair. ‘Now, where’s your sister?’
‘She’s in the living room, reading. I want to say goodbye to Bert.’
I had to think, then remembered the budgie. ‘Right. Well, tell Ruby it’s time to go and say goodbye to Bert while you’re at it, please.’
Maisie ran off. I turned back to John. ‘Thanks so much for having them,’ I said.
‘Any time. They’re no trouble. How did it go?’
‘I think they liked it. I’m a bit worried, to be honest. I’ve got a feeling they’re going to make an offer and I think you might be right about it being a mistake. Please don’t say anything to the girls, though. They don’t know about the viewing.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Ruby’s already told me she doesn’t want to move.’
‘Has she?’ I couldn’t help feeling a bit put out that she had confided in him, though I supposed I should feel glad there was someone else in the family she could talk to. ‘What did she say?’
‘That you were doing it against her wishes and she thinks the house is creepy. She doesn’t ever want to live there.’
‘Oh. Didn’t mince her words, then.’
‘No. And I reckon she’s right, too. All this business with the bones. I wouldn’t want my children to live there. You’d never know what you were going to find next. Personally, I’d sell the house. Someone will still buy it. And it’s not as if Betty will ever know. Mam always said—’
He was interrupted by Maisie and Ruby coming into the hallway.
‘Hello, you two,’ I said. ‘What do you need to say to Uncle John?’
‘Thank you,’ they chorused, Maisie slightly more enthusiastically than Ruby, and they both gave him a hug. I said goodbye with a peck on the cheek and we all got into the car. It was still bothering me, though, what Olive used to say to John.
‘Stay here,’ I said to the girls. ‘I’ve forgotten something.’
I slipped out of the car and hurried back up the path to where John was still standing in the doorway.
‘What did your mum used to say?’ I asked.
His eyes darkened a little. ‘That it was a bad place. That bad things happened to those who lived there.’
‘But she never said what things?’
‘Just that they were too bad to talk about.’
My stomach clenched. I still had the sense that Olive knew more than she was letting on.
‘You don’t happen to remember who used to live next door to my grandma, do you? I was just wondering, you know, what with everything going on.’
John shook his head. ‘I’m sure the police will find out soon enough.’
I didn’t lose the baby. Not that day, or the week after, or the one after that. I wanted to. I willed it gone. I knew that if I didn’t lose it in the first few months, I’d be stuck with it. I ran everywhere, carried heavy things, took hot baths, drank Dad’s gin. Anything that might do the trick. At night I dreamt about it. Only I didn’t see a tiny baby, I saw a big one, with his face, his eyes boring into me, his mouth smirking.
I hated it. Hated it more than I hated him. Because, as much as I dreaded his visits, he always left me afterwards. This – this thing was living inside me. Feeding off me, like a tapeworm. Growing and multiplying and embedding itself into my flesh. I tried to block it out the best I could, but it became harder every day.
I tried to hide it from others, as well as myself. I took to wearing baggy clothes, to turning away when I was undressing at school. I managed to fool a lot of people. But I always knew that the hardest person to fool would be him.
The week before, it hadn’t shown. He hadn’t suspected a thing, I was sure of it. But somehow, in seven short days, it had erupted out of me. And though I could still disguise it with clothes, I wasn’t sure I could get away with it in the flesh.
When we got to my bedroom, I felt sick with fear. He might hit me when he found out – he might try to kill me. Although maybe that would be a blessing. I wondered if it would be better if I told him myself, rather than waited for him to find out. Instead of lying on the bed, I sat on the end of it as
he took off his trousers. He looked at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. A smile spread across his face.
‘You want it in there, do you? You really are a dirty little slut.’ He dropped his trousers and moved towards me. I realised too late what he was going to do. He took hold of my head and forced himself inside my mouth and started thrusting back and forwards. I shut my eyes, but it didn’t help. I hated it. Hated it even more than what he usually did. I wanted to bite him. More than anything in the world, I wanted to bite down hard and make him scream the way I was screaming inside. But my jaws, like the rest of me, were frozen in terror.
I was struggling to breathe, I thought I was going to black out or throw up. When I felt the warm liquid inside my mouth, I thought it was the sick rising up my throat at first. And then I tasted it. A taste I had never experienced before. One that truly did make me want to vomit. I pulled my head away, spat it out on the floor and ran next door to the bathroom, where I stuck my head under the tap, taking gulps of water and spitting it out. I knew I’d never get the taste out of my mouth. Not if I brushed my teeth a thousand times. It would still be there. Still remind me of him.
I heard the bedroom door open and him call out, ‘See you next week,’ before going downstairs. I waited to hear the back door shut behind him and collapsed in a sobbing heap on the bathroom floor. I wished him dead. Him and the baby. But, most of all, I wished I had never been born.
17
The estate agent’s call came shortly before five o’clock that evening. Mr and Mrs Hargreaves had offered the asking price, as if determined to remove all scope for us to turn it down, or them to be outbid. I told the agent I’d have to talk to my husband. I think she thought I’d lost the plot. It was the only way I could think of stalling her until I’d had a chance to gather my thoughts.
They hadn’t found the bones next door to Grandma’s when we’d made the decision to put our home on the market. Maybe John was right. I certainly couldn’t argue with Olive’s statement that bad things had happened there. Three, at least. And what if there were more? What if we ended up living in one of those houses of horrors that featured on crime programmes on Channel Five?