by Wells, J
“What, do you want a job at the manor too?” Ruben hissed sarcastically, the annoyance growing in his voice every time Frank opened his mouth to speak.
“I have no pressing engagements for the weekend; therefore, if you so desired, I could accompany you.”
“I think that’s a jolly good idea, Frank,” Walter agreed. He smiled, seemingly quite taken by Frank’s gentlemanly concern.
“What!” Heather gasped. “Dad, you can’t be serious. Frank, it’s our special weekend away, and you’re spoiling it before it’s even begun. Ruben, tell them.”
Ruben paused. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay for dinner, I have a phone call or two to make, extra room bookings, etc. Looks like I’ll see you both in the morning then,” he said, kissing Heather on the cheek, his expression giving nothing away. “No worries, I’ll let myself out.”
Heather sat quietly, not making any effort to join in the conversation over dinner, having had just about all she could take of Frank’s articulated grammar and highfalutin ways. And to add insult to injury, her and Ruben’s romantic weekend would now be scuppered by Frank’s constant presence. Lost in her private thoughts, her eyes wandered again towards the fireplace; the housemaid was still standing in the very same spot. She’d had absolutely no input during dinner, and actually looked quite out of place. Heather ignored the conversation between her dad and Frank, and even her mum looked bored as Walter went into all the costs Freesdon Manor had brought with it since their arrival.
“Dad, you go on about cost and money,” Heather butted in rudely, “yet you’re happily paying a housemaid who does absolutely nothing. I’ve seen her twice today and both times she’s been unapproachable and rude. I watched her give Frank dirty looks earlier, and I know you saw it too, Frank, as I saw you looking back at her.”
Frank frowned. “I am afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t take her side; we don’t need that kind of staff here.”
“Miss Richardson...” His eyes hardened as he pushed his hair away from his face. “I am afraid you are mistaken.”
“Yeh whatever, Frankie. In my opinion she’s not up to the job!”
Heather’s dad looked confused. Placing his cutlery down on his empty dinner plate, he replied, “But, Heather, we haven’t got a housemaid, and won’t have until opening night... You did only give her a Buck’s Fizz, didn’t you, Faye?” Walter asked, his expression somewhat amused.
Heather’s face was ashen as she looked at Frank for answers, choking back more questions, as right behind him she saw an unearthly face resembling that of the housemaid, but it couldn’t be... Its sunken eyes were dark, sinister, pressing their way back into crumbling cheekbones. The hairs on Heather’s body stood on end and she shivered uncomfortably as an intense chill consumed her. She felt a deep sadness as she watched the eyes boring relentlessly into the back of Frank’s head, unwavering. Then dust particles filled the air and fell like ashen remains. Without warning, the decomposing corpse turned, before heading in the direction of the fireplace, shedding like a snake as she left herself behind, replaced by a darkness, a shadow looming over the mantle, a swirling mist depleting and imploding an explosion as it reinvented itself into that of a darkened orb. Heather closed her eyes tightly, unable to comprehend what she was seeing,
“Heather, you okay?”
She opened her eyes upon hearing her mum’s voice.
“Yes, fine, mum,” she answered, swallowing deeply. “Just tired; I think I’ll have an early night. Do you think you could come with me?” she asked, excusing herself.
“Heather, we have guests,” her mother brushed her off, picking up her conversation with Walter.
“Goodnight, Miss Richardson,” Frank said, and stood as she got up from the table.
“Yes, night, love. Make sure you’re up bright and early,” her dad said, juggling three conversations at once.
Heather walked through the double doors, giving the room a sideways glance as she turned back momentarily, trying to catch her mum’s eyes for reassurance, a change of heart maybe. She could hardly bring herself to walk through the manor alone, and with all the bizarre happenings that were taking place, she felt beyond scared. But the drink and conversation flowed, and nobody seemed to notice her as the orb floated nonchalantly in front of the open fireplace.
Every footstep she took brought with it an eerie creaking as the floorboards talked in their own haunting language. Even the shadows felt heavier, looming around every corner she turned. Heather had never felt so relieved as when she finally closed her bedroom door behind her and turned on the light. Oh what a night, she thought. In every possible way it had been the worst night of her entire life, and the day ahead wasn’t boding well either. Too spooked even to undress, she jumped under the quilt leaving the light on, knowing then that the shadows would leave her well alone.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated on the bedside table. Not surfacing, she simply reached out with her hand and pulled it under the covers. As she retrieved the text message, her heart lifted when she saw Ruben’s name. The message read: 9.37 p.m. Don’t give Frank a second thought; two can play that game. Let’s just say he’ll be more than occupied this weekend. By the way, u looked amazing tonight, I must be luckiest man alive. Don’t forget, ur my girl now. Till tomorrow, luv ya xxx
The night had taken its toll and she tiredly replied to the text. Then, in a matter of minutes, she was fast asleep.
~•••~
Heather woke early. The light drifted in through a small opening in the curtains, and a chorus of birds singing filled her ears. She gazed under the covers at her phone, which she realised she must have lain on all night, and picked it up to check the time: 5.28 a.m. An hour from now Ruben would be picking her up. She lay there, picturing his face. She’d never felt so alive, and she was confused as to how one person could possibly make her feel like this after such a short time. It was so nice for someone to show an interest in her for a change, though. Am I falling in love with him? she wondered. I so want to please him, but how? She knew the answer to this question already, even though it felt much too soon.
Yawning, she read his last message over and over again. Her eyes were sore from the lack of sleep, and she didn’t feel the slightest bit refreshed. She wasn’t sure if it was the ghostly experiences, the weekend ahead or Frank that played on her mind, but whatever it was, she felt at odds with something. With all the eerie goings-on around the manor over the last few days, she was relieved to get away. Haunting reflections now overshadowed the house she had once admired, and she felt too scared to step out of the annex alone for fear of the unknown.
She showered and dressed apprehensively, brushing her teeth, while at the same time running a comb through her hair. She liked to look natural in the morning, so only applied a touch of make-up where needed. She heard her phone vibrating. Is that the time already? she thought, taking a final glance in the mirror.
The message read: 6.25 a.m. Outside, girl xx
She popped her phone into her handbag, picked up her suitcase and a lightweight jacket, and walked out of her room as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her parents, who loved their weekend lie-ins. The engine of Ruben’s BMW sat purring like a large cat. He smiled at her through the open window, and then leaned over to open the passenger side door. Heather slipped in.
“No Frank then?” she asked, looking round expecting company.
“There will be later,” Ruben huffed, typing the postcode into his satnav. “Unfortunately, he’s making his own way there. Suppose one good thing is that we won’t be stuck with him for the three-hour journey.”
“I’m damn sure he’s not going to ruin our weekend,” Heather insisted, a half-smile on her lips as she ran her fingers though his hair, pulled him towards her and pressed her lips against his; not with her usual soft touch, but a roughness quite out of character, to prove a point perhaps, using her tongue and teeth to
play with his bottom lip.
She felt his hands moving softly between her legs, teasing the buckle of her jeans; she sensed her zip lowering and Ruben’s warm hands exploring the soft area of skin directly below her navel. A step too far maybe, she wasn’t quite sure, but she felt herself pushing him away. He grabbed at her hand.
“This is yours, Heather, all yours,” Ruben sighed, sucking at her neck, and moving her fingers slowly up his thigh.
She felt herself tensing and pulled her arm back.
“Ruben, please stop ... I don’t want to.”
“You’re doing it again, playing mind games!” Ruben smacked his hand down hard on the steering wheel. “Anyway, you’ve got me wrong this time. Feel in my pocket.”
Her eyes untrusting, she pushed her fingers tentatively inside the front pocket of his jeans. She felt something smooth, and retrieved a small plastic pouch. She opened it and felt inside.
“Ruben, it’s lovely!”
“Let me put it on for you.”
Heather turned and bent her head forward, and Ruben gently slipped it around her neck. She looked down to see a fine linked gold chain with two intertwining hearts.
Cupping her face in his hands, his voice was gentle.
“Like I said, this is yours, all yours.” He kissed her reassuringly on the cheek. “Don’t you think it’s about time you started trusting me? I thought we were a couple. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Of course I do. I’m so sorry; it’s just all happening so fast. When you undid my belt, I thought...” Heather jumped. “Ruben, it’s Mum! How long has she been there?”
Ruben turned and looked up at the house. He could see Faye waving from her bedroom window. Foot on the clutch, he pushed the car into first gear and waved back, before closing his window and heading down the driveway.
“Give ya mum one thing, her timing’s bloody amazing.”
Embarrassed, Heather gasped. “You don’t think she saw anything, do you?”
“Saw what exactly?” he jibed. “There was nothing to see, and I’ve got tinted windows in any case, so not a chance...” Ruben paused. “I really can’t understand you. One minute you blow hot, the next you blow cold. You leave me, well, I don’t know where.”
“I do want you, I want you more than anything. I hardly slept thinking about our weekend together. I know now I can’t wait for you till my eighteenth.” But the words Heather spoke were words of guilt, the words she knew he wanted to hear.
“That’s what I like; that’s my girl talking,” Ruben said, placing his hand in hers. “But our new friend is sure to disapprove. I can sense he doesn’t like me, thinks I’m too old and just taking advantage... Or maybe the truth of the matter is that he wants you for himself.”
“Have you seen the way he dresses, the way he talks? He’s got no chance. And as for the age thing, I’m afraid that’s his problem. I’m as good as eighteen. I think this weekend it could be me who takes advantage of you,” Heather flirted.
“Only when you’re ready, in your own time,” Ruben said, driving over the cattle grid. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured.”
Heather smiled to herself. She couldn’t help her thoughts, and questioned the sincerity of his words. She fastened her seat belt and relaxed back into her seat, which seemed to hug her from both sides. She turned slightly, glancing at Ruben as he drove, his concentration fixed on the road.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going then?” Heather asked, turning on the radio.
“Nope, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Heather peeked at the satnav. She could see that wherever their destination was, it was a good three hours away. She leant back against the headrest, watching the fields pass by. Her eyes felt heavy, and although she didn’t remember doing so, she must have closed them for what only seemed like a second.
“Oi, sleeping beauty, you hungry?”
Heather stirred, rubbing her eyes. Slowly waking up, she looked at Ruben unfastening his seat belt. The car sat stationary.
“Just going to fill her up and wondered if you wanted owt?” he said, turning off the engine.
“Yeah, erm, whatever. I’m easy.”
Stretching her arms, she gazed into the mirrored visor directly above her and saw that her mascara had smudged across her cheeks. Typical, she thought. She looked at Ruben and wondered if his cheeky smile was in relation to her rather unattractive panda face, or due to the ambiguous comment she had just made.
Licking her finger, she cleaned her face as best she could, forgetting the mascara was waterproof and so actually making it worse. Whatever, she thought; she’d clean herself up later, and try not to look in Ruben’s direction for the remainder of the journey. She looked out of the passenger window and saw that they were parked in the country somewhere, at a rather small petrol station with only four pumps, two of which were out of order.
An oldish man in blue overalls walked out through the garage door towards Ruben and began filling up the car. She watched as he and Ruben stood chatting. Ruben then followed him back into the garage to pay. Not long to go now, she thought. According to the satnav, only fifteen minutes and they’d be there ... wherever there was!
A few minutes later, Ruben was heading back to the car.
“Here, take ya pick,” he said, throwing a carrier bag at her before sitting back down.
She sifted through its contents; there was a selection of sandwiches, bottled water, a couple of sausage rolls, chewing gum and a large bar of dark chocolate. She chose a chicken salad, and as she pulled it out, she noticed something else.
“Didn’t know you smoked.”
“Only after sex!” He laughed.
“Oh ... oh right,” Heather said, almost choking and her face a picture.
She pulled at the cellophane on her sandwiches.
“Bloody hell, lighten up, girl! I was only joking,” Ruben said, frowning and shaking his head. “They’re not for me. Quit years ago.”
“Well they’re not for me, are they?” Heather questioned. “I don’t smoke, never have done.”
Still shaking his head, he started the car. Heather could feel a slight tension between them. Somehow she always managed to say the wrong things. Then it hit her. They must be for Frank, she thought, taking a bite into her sarnie.
Turning off the satnav, Ruben said, “Know me way from ’ere,” indicating right.
The views were astounding.
“We’re nearly there now, so I may as well tell you. We’re on the edge of Snowdonia’s National Park. But wait till you see where we’re stopping.”
The tall leafy canopy of trees masked the sunlight as they drove down narrowing lanes. Ruben parked up in the middle of nowhere. Please not camping, anything but camping, Heather thought. Not that there was anything wrong with sleeping in the outdoors, it just wasn’t how she had pictured their romantic weekend away; she had been thinking more along the lines of a luxurious hotel. She was sure he’d mentioned room bookings before he left the meal the night before; perhaps that was just his way of making a quick exit. All she could see were trees and more trees, so her first impressions were not boding too well at all. She sat feeling rather deflated while he opened the boot and retrieved their luggage. And the tent, she thought.
Winding down the window, she called to Ruben, “Do you need a hand putting it up?”
“Putting what up?” He grinned.
“The tent, of course.”
“Do you really think I’ve driven three hours for us to be stuck in a tent, with your bloody chaperone? What do you take me for? On second thoughts, a tent might have been a good idea, for Frank! Didn’t use me loaf there, did I?”
Heather hoped Frank’s navigational skills weren’t the best; he certainly didn’t look the sort to be au fait with modern technology, and she couldn’t picture him having a satnav, or a car for that matter.
“I’ve got ya case. Follow me.”
The trees were quite dense, or so sh
e thought, but on passing between them, just behind Ruben, they opened out into a grassy glade.
“Stop ... close your eyes,” Ruben instructed, placing his suitcase on the ground.
He took her hand in his, and after walking only a few steps, the breeze danced against her face and the trees rustled, whispering their secrets.
“Okay, you can look now.”
She opened her eyes in anticipation, and unfortunately was met by a bright yellow Mini Cooper. Ruben watched her expression.
“Now, look up...”
It was certainly different, almost magical,
“Ruben, it’s like something out of a fairytale!” Heather said in awe, kissing him on the cheek.
It stood at least twenty feet or so in the air, sheltered by leafy attire from the trees’ overladen branches, a perfect hideaway. How romantic, she thought.
“It’s a tree house,” she said.
But not the sort you’d see in a child’s back garden.
“Yes, Heather, they’re unique. My father owns the company where they are made in Germany. They were all brought over by freight line, as flat packs. There are seven scattered around these parts. Dad’s found it to be a good little earner. But this one is for our own personal use, and we only rent it to friends and family.”
The base of the structure was cut into the surrounding trees, or wooden stanchions were used where needed. Natural and Eco-friendly, it was perfect. Dome-shaped, with an outer structure of light wooden beams, it had its own gated veranda for alfresco dining, and as she looked closer, Heather could see a small table with four chairs, accessed by a very rickety-looking spiral staircase.
“Oh, Ruben...”
But the words to follow never came.
“Ruben!”
She heard a voice coming from the veranda, and saw a woman waving her arms.
“Hi, guys!”
“Ya did well getting here before us!” he shouted up. “Got ya text in time to pick up ya cigs.”
“You’re a lifesaver!” she shouted back, making her way down the staircase.
Heather recognised her immediately as the over-friendly redhead from the pub.