“Thanks, mate,” he said, replacing it and taking another. Anything to lubricate the awkwardness of the evening. Anyway, they could afford it.
It really was one hell of a place, though.
That Amy’s parents were well-off he’d been fully aware of; that the lounge opened into more and more candlelit, mirrored rooms, each darker than the previous one, was interesting. God, there were even mirrors on the ceilings; every wall covered in them; the whole giving the impression of a never-ending corridor filled with flickering flames and ghoulish masks. On previous visits he’d been whisked straight upstairs with only a cursory glance at what looked like a normal living room, albeit a large one with a marble hearth, a fully equipped bar and a cinema screen; but wow, this really was something else. The house must be colossal. Curious, he wandered further in, weaving through the hum of the crowd, accepting another sweet cocktail along the way. This wasn’t so bad. Just wait till he told the lads back at the station about it. How the other half lived or what?
The adjoining room was long and narrow, painted dark red and adorned with the now ubiquitous mirrors. Chandeliers heavy with flickering candles had been hung in a row of three over the top of a polished rosewood dining table, set with a bizarre feast.
Toby stared so hard his eyes nearly popped.
Suddenly too hot, the murmuring chatter too loud, he swayed slightly. This was no feast. Lying down the length of the table on a bed of roses was a naked woman. She lay as if deceased, her skin a shiny, white porcelain; and her eyes not only closed but devoid of lashes and stitched up, as was her mouth. With thick black thread. And all around her lay dolls. Some of the dolls had been beheaded; others had their scalps removed, and some had the hair pulled out or fingers missing.
He whirled around to the sound of an outbreak of laughter, stunned to realise he was drunk as a skunk, giggling and unsteady. He shook his head as if to clear it. He’d only had two or was it three glasses of that stuff, but the floor had turned into a tightrope. Whoa…time to go. Bloody hell – what had they put in those drinks?
He scanned the room again. No, none of those were Amy – no spider tattoos on their arses. He giggled again, hand to his mouth like a schoolboy as he lurched from chair to table, and table to door. Nope, she wasn’t here.
Going…going now, please…He’d turned up seeing as he’d been threatened, but no way was he going upstairs to find her.
Staggering back the way he came, he was, however, forced to an abrupt halt. That was funny - the doors were closed. He winged round again, disorientated. A cool breeze beckoned him through to the patio doors the other way. ‘Presumably,’ his muzzy brain thought, ‘this would lead onto the lawn?’ Good idea. Okay then, out we go this way instead…
“Excuse me, thank you, thank you…” Edging his way through the kinky bondage gear and nudity he walked towards it, candle flames dancing in the draught, and music now straining on the night air. It sounded like drumming with discordant strings over the top. This was one weird freaking party… He was giggling again but couldn’t stop; lunged for a table to put down his empty cocktail glass but missed, and it smashed onto the wooden floor. He was giggling uncontrollably; vaguely aware now of a hand under his arm, steering him into, ‘the garden room’ as someone was referring to it.
The garden room. He stood swaying.
Well, that was funny because it was bloody dark for a garden room…There weren’t any plants in here either. He smirked, spurting with laughter. It was totally dark so how the hell could this be a bloody garden room? Not very good for the begonias, was it?
The hand underneath his arm suddenly let him go and he slumped onto the floor in a heap. Ooh, no call for that…Now on his knees he tried to stand; and then it gradually occurred to him that it wasn’t simply dark in here – it was totally black. Not only that but it appeared he was the only person in here. It took a minute or two for his eyes to adjust.
And when they did it was to see three silhouetted figures framed against the moonlit lawn, waiting for him to acknowledge them. Cloaked in black robes, their faces were hidden by hoods.
Behind him the double doors shut with a firm click.
“Hi, Toby,” said a voice he recognised. “So glad you could make it.”
He wheeled around to find Amy, a spectre in a sliver of moonlight.
“Awww…you came.”
“What the hell kind of party is this?” he slurred, pushing her away.
Someone laughed nastily.
“Toby,” said Amy, grabbing his hand. “You’re just in time for the ceremony. We’re almost ready.”
And it was then, at that precise moment, it hit him. Game up. Snap.
Lumbering through the patio doors into the crisp evening air like a drunk falling into the street, treetops zoomed in and out of focus and he clawed at thin air in an attempt to stay upright. The drumming was louder out here, its rhythmic intensity increasing. Hands were shoved under his armpits, lifting his feet off the ground as tree trunks reared into his face and bestial creatures with horns danced in and out of focus like something from a medieval banquet. He laughed again, tripping over roots. Wheee, he was flying, flying through a forest…
Oh, it had come to an end.
So soon…
He stared out through a drug-induced fog of incomprehension, head lolling, vaguely aware his kneecaps had been slammed into something hard. A glimmering lake swam into view, moonlight rippling across its glossy surface. In vain he tried to keep his eyes open, registering vaguely that some sort of stage had been set. A play? A macabre kind of theatre?
“You’re going to love this,” said a female voice he thought might be Amy’s.
His head swivelled around at the sound of her voice, in time to see a grim army of black-cloaked figures marching behind them. He tried to stand on his own two feet but couldn’t - every attempt resulting in falling sideways - and something was cutting into his ankles. He looked down, realising with a stab of shock they had been bound together with rope. When did that happen?
Somebody wrenched his head back by the hair.
“Toby,” said the same sugary female voice. “This is your initiation, darling. It’s all for you. So you see – you really can’t leave us now, can you?”
***
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Child and Adolescent Unit
It was late afternoon when Becky rushed into Reception to see Alice. Already the bedside lights were on, and the distinctive waft of chips told her evening meals were being served.
“Who asked you to come?” the receptionist asked. “Only there’s nothing down here about a visit.”
“Judy Harper.”
“The receptionist frowned, tapping at her computer keyboard. “The psychologist? No, she’s not left a note. Sorry, I can’t let you in.” Eyeing Becky over the top of her bifocals, she added, “And she doesn’t work here anymore – she left. Didn’t you know?”
“Yes, that’s why she asked me to visit Alice. Well, could I have a word with the ward sister then, please?”
The woman shook her head. “I doubt it. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I really do need to speak with her urgently. Could you just ask her, please? Tell her Judy called and asked me to come over?”
The receptionist began to shake her head again, when Becky erupted. “Okay, look, I’m heavily pregnant, I’m dog tired and I’ve come a long way on public transport. I am Alice’s mother’s nurse, and I’ve been working closely with Judy, who rang and specifically requested my help. I have to talk to the nurse in charge.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Would you mind just asking her, please? I wouldn’t insist if it wasn’t important. Please, at least give her the option.”
The receptionist pressed her lips tightly together.
Becky stared her down.
“Right. Well. I’m sure she won’t have the time, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. This is not hospital procedure, it really isn’t.”
Becky held the stare, slightly raising her eyebrows until the woman finally picked up the phone. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a moment to see a lady in Reception have you, Isobel? She says it’s important but… Oh, you have.” She put down the receiver. “She won’t be a minute.”
“Thank you.”
Shortly afterwards a petite blonde bobbed her head round the door from the ward. “Is it Becky? I’ve been expecting you – come on in.”
“Blimey,” said Becky as they marched down the corridor to the office. “I thought she was going to have me escorted from the premises by the gestapo.”
The other woman laughed and showed Becky in. “Bit of a dragon, that one. Don’t worry about it.” She indicated an armchair by the window. “Take the weight off. Tea?”
“Oh lovely, thank you. Yes please.”
“I’m Issy by the way. I saw you with Judy the other week and wanted to come over and introduce myself, but I got caught up with a problem. Sugar? Milk?”
“Just a tiny drop of milk thanks. I don’t suppose you have any biscuits or anything–” She patted her bump and grimaced. “Sorry, I’m absolutely ravenous and I’ve had nothing much all day and then the journey up here straight after work and–”
Isobel laughed. “Yeah, sure. Chocolate Hob-Nobs do you?”
“Oh thank God, yes please. Honestly, I’d kill old ladies for them at the moment.”
“No need.” She passed her a new packet. “Take them - I’m on a diet and you know what it’s like? You don’t get a break, the canteen’s closed and there they are – looking at you. And you can never have just one, can you? Anyway, I take it Judy told you what happened?”
“Only that she’d been suspended. She said Alice kicked off and she was blamed – something to do with her making things worse and encouraging Alice to produce false memories? She’s extremely distressed and very worried, as am I. We’d only just started working together, pooling information and hoping to bring mother and daughter together.”
Isobel handed her a mug of tea. “Hope that’s okay?”
“Thank you.” Becky took a sip. “Ooh yes, that’s lovely. So what happened to upset Alice so much? Do you know what triggered it? Did she switch?”
“Well, a few weeks ago Judy said she’d seen a woman in the courtyard at the back of the unit. She described her but none of us knew who she could be and as you know, no one can access it without permission. We brushed it off, I suppose. But then yesterday she was apparently there again; only it wasn’t just Judy who saw her this time. Alice saw her too. None of us knew anyone fitting the description but it sent Alice into apoplexy – screaming, tearing at her hair, running round knocking chairs over. According to Judy there was something about the wall - something written on it. In the end Alice had to be sedated and she’s still up in Isolation.”
“Was there anything… I mean, did you see anything significant on the wall?”
“Well, that’s just it – only the usual scrawl – something any of the kids could have done.”
“Can I see?”
“It’s dark, Becky.”
“Aren’t there any lights outside? I’m sorry, I just really need to see.”
“That’s what Judy wanted to do as well, only first she went up to Isolation with Alice, which is where she bumped into Dr Mullins. They had quite a set-to – you could hear the shouting from here. He was having her removed from Alice’s care immediately. She was in tears. To be honest with you, I felt really bad for her because she was the first person Alice had actually started to trust. It’s a huge shame.”
“Hmmm…interesting…so Judy never actually saw what was on the wall? Can I start there, do you think? Honestly, I know you’re busy and I wouldn’t ask but I think it could be important.”
Isobel, Becky noticed, was one of those people who made sudden and definite decisions. Whipping a set of keys out of her desk drawer, she stood and motioned Becky to follow. “Come on then, let’s go. Will you want to see Alice, too? Are you going to help Judy get reinstated – is that it? Or do you just want to reassure her Alice is okay?”
“The latter really. I’m not sure I can help her get reinstated unless she takes the matter further and I could put a word in. I’m here for Ruby, as well. I’m the only link she has with her daughter, you see, and I promised I’d look out for her, especially before I go off on maternity leave.”
Isobel was clattering ahead down the corridor and onto the unit, ignoring cheeky comments from some of the teenage boys. “No, it isn’t a bun it’s a baby she’s got, Gavin. It’d be a flipping big bun, wouldn’t it?” She spoke over her shoulder to Becky. “We’ll go out this way and lock the door behind us.”
The outdoor courtyard consisted of a high-walled, small patio reached through a locked and bolted door to the side of the art room.
“Going dark early now, isn’t it?”
Becky nodded. As far as outdoor recreational areas went this was pretty dismal, but someone had planted out a few tubs, and along with tables and chairs there was also a hammock swing and a tiny summerhouse with cushions inside. She walked around the perimeter, trying to work out what could be seen from where Alice would have been sitting behind the glass. The facing wall was red brick and clear of any graffiti. It wasn’t until it tapered towards the window in an alcove that anything written on it would be seen, and that too appeared to be clean. She glanced back to the window to where she and Judy had sat with Alice that day, then back again, imagining a line of vision. There. She bent down. Yes, there was a smudge of what may have been chalk. Something had been written and then erased.
“Over here,” she called to Isobel.
The two women examined it closely. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Three, maybe four hours?”
“Can you see anything definitive?”
“It looks like a few loops…but…yeah, scrubbed out. A leaf? Or is it a flower?”
“Hmmm, could be…There was definitely something there, though, wouldn’t you say?” She looked Isobel in the face. “Okay, look, I’ll admit I’m very worried and I need to bring you up to speed fast so you know why. And then I have to see Alice. I’m sorry, Issy, but I do – it’s incredibly important.”
Isobel regarded her intensely for a second or two, then nodded. Another quick but firm decision made, Becky noted. What a gift. She couldn’t even decide if she needed a haircut sometimes.
They sat in the alcove, tucked into the shadow of the high security walls while Becky quickly told her about Woodsend, after which she confided her recent suspicions about certain members of the sect still being at large. “It isn’t over is what I’m trying to say. There’s a lot more I could tell you, but there just isn’t time. The important thing is you’ve got to be on alert for any underhand tactics because I think Alice is still in serious danger. Judy was making progress and now she’s been removed. That’s what happens. Someone, somewhere, orchestrated this, I’d bet my life on it. All I’m asking is to be able to check Alice is okay from time to time; and if anyone strange comes to see her that you let me or the local police officer on the case know about it.” She gave Isobel Toby’s card.
Isobel turned it over. “Yes, I read about all this in the papers, of course – spoke with the child protection officer myself when Alice was first admitted. And I know Judy was of the belief Alice had suffered RSA…that she has DID and not post-traumatic stress–” She flushed, looked away.
“But?”
“But I’m as guilty as anyone for agreeing she go to foster carers.”
“Oh, you mustn’t blame yourself, Issy. It’s hard when you’ve got a consultant over-ruling you. What’s he like anyway, this Dr Mullins? I don’t think Judy rated him.”
Isobel lowered her voice to a whisper. “Oh, he’s quite nice actually, charming you know? New. The other one, Dr Lowry, retired suddenly about six months ago and in stepped Leslie Mullins. He’d been working out in America and Australia - by all accounts at the top of his gam
e. Come to think of it the problem between him and Judy was no doubt exactly that - a clash of egos. He’s very ambitious, you see, and my guess is he didn’t want someone else taking over Alice’s case, someone with more specialist knowledge and experience than him, especially with it being so high profile. Anyway, he’s of the opinion that Judy was forcing false memories to surface and it was dangerous. According to him Judy destabilised her when she should have left this to him. I don’t know what to think – I’m just trying to keep the peace.”
“Isobel, Alice was doing really well with Judy, and her memories are very similar to Ruby’s so I’m not at all sure why Leslie Mullins would say they were false? And how is sending the child to a foster home in the village she came from, not dangerous? I think I’d better tell you a bit more–”
***
Ten minutes later Isobel was bounding up the stairs to the isolation unit, with Becky gasping for breath behind her. Neither spoke. Both kept checking over their shoulders.
Alice was in a padded room, heavily sedated and bound with restraints to stop her from hurting herself. When the women walked in, she opened red-rimmed eyes swollen from crying, her focus entirely on Becky, who had knelt down next to her.
“It’s okay, Alice,” she said gently. “You’ve had a scare and I understand that – I would have been scared too.”
“You okay for a bit?” Isobel said. “Only I’ve got a situation on the ward. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She threw Becky the room key. “I’m trusting you, Missus.”
“Thank you.” She turned back to Alice. “Shall we take off these horrible things from your wrists?”
Alice stared back.
“Are you with me, Alice?”
Magda: A Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror Trilogy - Book 3 Page 15