2.0 - What Lies Below

by Helen Phifer

  A loud thump from Alfie’s room made her jump up. Throwing open her bedroom door, she ran across the hallway and knocked on his door.

  His groggy voice answered, ‘Dropped my book. Sorry.’

  ‘As long as you’re okay. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Get to sleep, Alfie, it’s early.’

  Wide awake now, she decided she might as well make herself a coffee and do a bit of work. Or she could do some research on Lake House; she’d promised Maddy she would. Damn! That house was taking over her mind. She hated when that happened. Thankfully, it wasn’t often, but now and again a person or a place would make such a strong connection with her that she couldn’t ignore it. Whoever or whatever it was would lodge itself firmly inside her head, spinning around, gathering speed like a tornado.

  The puzzling thing was that until she’d met Maddy, she’d never really given the house much thought. So, was it the house or Maddy that was messing with her mind? Slipping on her dressing gown and a pair of slippers, she let herself out of the flat and went down to the shop where her all-singing, all-dancing new computer was.

  The moon was almost full. The clouds kept dancing across it, blocking out the glow which illuminated the village. Glenys shook her head; this wasn’t looking good. The moon would be full tomorrow or the next night. Some shit was going down with either Maddy or Lake House, and she was caught up in the middle of it.

  Unlocking the shop door, she let herself in, the smell of incense filling her nostrils and making her retch. God, she hated that smell, but it was what customers expected from these kinds of shops. It was what the villagers expected as well, and she’d always felt a sense of duty towards them. They’d labelled her as kooky and she’d felt it was her place to make sure she lived up to the label. What a load of rubbish.

  Turning on the shop light, she grabbed the bin from behind the counter. It was time to make a stand and bollocks to conforming to other people’s expectations. Who said her shop couldn’t smell of lemon drizzle cake or vanilla cupcakes, which was the fragrance of the expensive wax-warmers in the flat? Gathering all the incense sticks, candles, and anything else which offended her sense of smell, she threw them all into the bin, tied the bag, then carried it outside and dumped it into the wheelie bin.

  When she went back into the shop, the smell still lingered in the air, but it wasn’t as strong. In the morning she’d open the windows and wedge the door wide to clear it completely, but already she felt much better. All this time she’d put up with that smell: for what, or who?

  She grabbed her mug and went into the back room where she sat at the computer and powered it up. The tarot deck on the table was drawing her in, but she didn’t want to pull any cards from it until she knew what was going on. As she logged onto the computer, she ignored the cards and sipped her coffee.

  Today was going to be a long one.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  M addy opened her eyes; it was still dark outside. A gentle, silvery, shimmering glow from the moon cast its light inside the room. She turned and grabbed her phone off the bedside table. It was just after 3 a.m. She lay there with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald’s voice filtered up the stairs.

  She blinked several times before pushing herself up onto her elbows. Getting out of bed, she crept towards the door and listened to make sure she wasn’t imagining it or dreaming. Nope, she wasn’t. She could faintly hear the words: ‘Night and day, you are the one. Only you beneath the moon and under the sun.’

  Cold fingers of fear wrapped themselves around the back of her neck and she shivered. Maddy knew one hundred per cent that she’d unplugged the radio power cord from the socket on the wall. Seth had been there; he’d watched her.

  Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell she was thinking agreeing to live in this house on her own. It was okay pretending you weren’t scared during the day to put on a brave face. But this was different. She hadn’t ever felt terror like it. There were two explanations: the house was haunted; or whoever was playing these stupid mind games with her had upped their game. Who would be so mean as to try to scare her this much? One name flashed into her mind: Connor. What if he’d found out where she was? He would enjoy this game of cat and mouse, but how would he know where to find her? Only Stella knew where she was, which could explain her friend’s strange behaviour. Maddy whispered, ‘Stella, what did you do?’

  Last night, Seth had offered her a nice, warm, cosy bed at the pub. A lovely king-size bed, with him to keep her warm, and she’d refused flat out. In fact, she’d been offended by his offer, as if he was doubting her sanity in wanting to stay in this mausoleum alone. But right now, she doubted her own sanity and wishing she hadn’t been so bloody stubborn. Why were you so adamant that you had to stay here alone, Maddy? That was plain stupid and now look: the radio is playing the same song as when you first turned it on hours ago. Even though you removed it from the socket. How do you explain that one?

  She grabbed hold of the heavy-duty torch from the dresser and turned it on. The weight of it afforded her some comfort; at least she could use it as a weapon if she came face-to-face with an intruder. She didn’t want to consider the possibility of there being no one in the house except for her, but in the back of her mind all she could think of was that Connor was there, hiding and waiting for a chance. But first he’s going to make my life a misery for walking out on him.

  Her limited options weren’t exceptionally good. She should phone the police and say…what? ‘Hello, the radio is playing the same song on repeat, despite me turning it off?’ Christ, they’d probably have her sectioned and carted off to the nearest hospital. She could keep the bedroom door shut and barricade herself inside, wait for the sun to break through the clouds, and then go for help. Then she could leave this place, forget the sense of belonging and duty she felt towards the house, and go back to her gran’s tiny London flat and finish her book there. But the rhythm of the dull thud of the football, as it bounced against the wall below on a continual loop, would mess with her mind, disrupting her creative flow and taking away all possibility of her finishing this book on time.

  She knew she couldn’t go back there, despite the love she had for her gran. It just wasn’t the right place for her to be. And you think that Lake House is? Have you lost your mind, Maddy? What about Stella? You could stay with her for a few days until you sort out your own place to live. Stop running away and being so pathetic!

  The last line from her inner critic shook her to the core; she hadn’t realised that she’d been running away. She was, though. She’d run from Connor, from London, from her life, and now she was stuck here in the middle of nowhere with no one to turn that bloody radio off.

  Her feet felt as if they were glued to the floor and didn’t want to move. But she knew she had to go down and face whatever it was, because she wasn’t going to be chased out of this house without a fight. If it was a ghost, then it could bugger off. It would just have to accept that she was here and live alongside her in harmony. This thought made her giggle. As if she were brave enough to live with a ghost! Before coming here, she didn’t even believe in them, so what was wrong with her? It must be a bloody amazing one if it could plug a radio in.

  If it was Connor or some mean-spirited villager, then it was time for a showdown, and she had the advantage. She knew the layout of the house, so she could find somewhere to hide if she needed to until the police got here.

  Stepping onto the landing, the beam from the torch was wavering all over the place and she realised it was because her hands were shaking. Taking a deep breath, she ran down the staircase towards the kitchen and the offending music. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she realised the music had stopped. Silence filled the air, making it heavy and oppressive once more. In a way, she preferred listening to the sweet sounds of Ella Fitzgerald.

  She pushed open the kitchen door, shining the light around. ‘Who’s in here?’ s
he demanded. ‘Who is messing around with me? Because I’m not standing for it. You better show yourself now and we can come to some kind of agreement, because I’m telling you now that you won’t scare me away. I’m here to stay. This is my home now. So, you either crack on with what you’re doing and leave me the fuck alone, or you get out. It’s up to you.’

  She stood still, her stomach a mass of churning knots, but she felt better for saying what was on her mind. If someone replied to her, she’d be out of there like a shot, straight out of the front door and all the way to Seth’s pub.

  Her temples throbbing and pulse racing, she listened. There was no answer; Maddy was greeted by silence, which made her feel a little braver. The kitchen didn’t feel cold like she’d expected it to; it felt empty – a bit like her. She slowly crossed the room towards the worktop where the radio stood. It wasn’t plugged in!

  Maddy stepped away, shaking her head. You’re losing the plot, hearing things. It must have been in your dream and you can’t have been fully awake. Either that, or someone is messing with your head, and who would really want to do that? She whispered his name out loud as she realised there was only one person who would do something like that to her…Connor.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  S eth lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering just what had happened again between him and Maddy. Twice now they’d spend a pleasurable couple of hours in each other’s company, then it had ended on a sour note.

  He turned on his side. He wasn’t tired. He kept thinking he could hear his dad, which was stupid because his dad was in the funeral home, laid out in a pine coffin which was going to take him to his final resting place in a few days’ time. Maybe he should go and say goodbye tomorrow. Seth didn’t like the thought of him being there alone, with no one popping in to see him.

  It was strange being here alone for the first time in forever; his dad or guests normally kept him company. Thankfully, they’d taken no bookings for this week. He wasn’t sure how the Trip Advisor reviews would have gone down if guests had to witness the landlord’s dad dropping dead on the landing. The thought made him smile. Who really cared about all that crap, anyway? When did the world get so hung up on reviewing anything and everything?

  He closed his eyes again, begging sleep to come and take him away for a couple of hours. But his mind switched between images of his dad’s body and Maddy. Lake House was a thing of desolate beauty that he appreciated even more now he’d spent time in it, and he could see the attraction for Maddy. It truly was magnificent, though lonely, but something about it made you want to spend more time there, Maybe not after dark, though.

  He wondered what to do about their situation. Were they friends or could it be more? He’d like it to be a lot more, he’d like to take her out on a date, get to know her better, read her books, and become her number one fan. Christ, Seth, you sound like Annie Wilkes out of Misery, you little cockadoodie brat. His laugh filled the room and he opened his eyes again.

  He might as well get up and do something useful if sleep wasn’t going to come. He had a copy of her book in the bar which the bookshop had ordered for him; he might as well go and get it. He could make himself a hot chocolate and read until his eyes had no excuse to give in and close for a couple of hours.

  He picked up the book, tucking it under his arm, then went into the kitchen where he warmed up a mug of milk in the microwave. Years ago, his mum would take a heavy metal pan from the rack and put it on the stove. Then she’d pour in a mixture of milk and fresh cream from the dairy, stirring it while it warmed through. If they had chocolate in the house, she’d break a couple of squares and drop them into the warm milk, stirring until they melted. She’d add a couple of spoonfuls of drinking chocolate and a sprinkling of sugar, then pour it into the large stone mugs she kept for best, and pass him one. It was truly the most indulgent and probably the most calorific hot chocolate the world knew, but it had been divine. These fancy coffee shops had nothing on her secret hot chocolate recipe.

  Nowadays, he stirred a large spoon of hot chocolate powder into the microwaved milk and hoped for the best. Maybe he could lure Maddy here with the offer of the best hot chocolate she’d ever tasted and make one for her. It was worth a shot; who could resist?

  As he walked back into the bedroom, he crossed to the window and glanced out. He couldn’t see Lake House from here, which was probably just as well. He could see Glenys’s shop, though, and wondered why the light was on at this time in the morning. As much as she drove him mad, he cared for her a lot and was happy to help if she needed anything.

  He propped himself up on the bed, lay back, and opened the book. At first, it was hard to stop reading the words in Maddy’s voice. She was all he could imagine as he read each line, but after a while it got easier. Pretty soon, as the story and the characters drew him in, he forgot all about the author. It was good, and he could understand why the book had become so popular.

  Sipping his drink, he read page after page until his eyes finally began to blur at the small print in front of him. Yawning, he put the book down on the bedside table and went to turn off the light. Glenys’s shop was still lit up. Glenys! Did you forget to turn off the light, or is there a problem? He couldn’t ignore it. What if something was wrong and he’d stayed in his warm, cosy bed, his belly full of hot chocolate? He’d feel terrible if he went to sleep when she needed his help? For God’s sake, being a Good Samaritan was a pain in the arse at times.

  He dressed quickly, ran downstairs, and slipped on his trainers. Shrugging a hoodie over his head, he left the pub unlocked and rushed down the street towards the shop. He wasn’t worried about anyone going in and burgling it at this time of night; he had nothing worth stealing in there. What money there was, his dad kept locked in an old-fashioned safe at the back of the storeroom behind countless empty beer crates. Even Seth was too lazy to move them all to check what was in it, so he doubted a sneak-in burglar would be bothered.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  G lenys rubbed her eyes and stared at the spread of tarot cards in front of her. It didn’t make sense: Death; the Nine of Swords; and the Eight of Cups, were all face-up in front of her. Glenys felt uncomfortable even staring at them.

  The Death card didn’t necessarily mean someone was going to die, because it was usually about symbolic endings of a major phase in life that might bring about the beginning of something more important. But the Nine of Swords was one of the most negative cards she’d pulled in a spread for quite some time, and she didn’t like it. This one foretold of powerful mental anguish and was symbolic of worry and grief. The Eight of Cups symbolised abandonment, leaving, a time to move on. So, what did this mean?

  The whole time she’d been pulling the cards, she’d had Maddy’s name spinning around in her head like a whirlwind. Christ, she wouldn’t share these cards with her worst enemy! So what was she supposed to do about this mess? Did it mean that Maddy was going through some kind of mental anguish that would result in her abandoning Lake House and start a new beginning somewhere else? Glenys didn’t know. Chewing on her thumbnail, she picked the cards up. It was late and she was tired. Too damn tired, and now these cards were freaking her out.

  She really liked Maddy and wanted her to stay, but if these cards were for her, they appeared to be telling some kind of warning. Maybe she should go and visit Maddy tomorrow and tell her about the cards. She could ask her if she was okay, at least let her know to be aware of what could be around the corner for her, and offer a friendly warning to be careful.

  Glenys opened the shop door and walked out, straight into the man standing outside. The scream which left her lips pierced the air and echoed around the deserted street as he reached out and grabbed her.

  ‘Jesus, Glenys, you’ve woken the dead.’

  ‘What the fuck are you doing sneaking around at this time in the morning, Seth?’ she snapped, slapping his arm as if he was a naughty boy.

  ‘Ouch, you’re too rough. As a matter of fact, I was
coming to check that you were okay, I couldn’t sleep and saw the shop light on. I was worried something was wrong with either you or Alfie.’

  Glenys felt her cheeks begin to burn and a warm, fuzzy feeling wrap itself around her heart.

  ‘Really? You came to check on us both? Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thank you, but we’re good. I couldn’t sleep either.’

  ‘Why?’

  She shrugged. ‘You tell me. Actually, I can’t stop thinking about Maddy being on her own in that house. It’s mad. She’s mad, if you ask me, and there’s something not right.’

  ‘She’s mad, all right,’ he agreed. ‘What do you mean something’s not right?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly, but I keep getting bad vibes. Then I pulled some tarot cards and, well, let’s just say they’re grim.’ She looked more closely at him. ‘Why can’t you sleep? Is it your dad?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I’m the same, it’s Maddy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m worried about her being on her own there. It’s so desolate and secluded, but she’s more stubborn than you. I offered her a room at the pub earlier and she turned me down.’

  Glenys grinned. ‘You’re losing your touch, Seth, if she turned you down.’

  ‘Yep, but I wish she hadn’t.’

  ‘I bet you do.’

  ‘Not like that. I’m honestly concerned about her being there, especially after the wedding dress episode. We don’t know who left it there or why.’

  ‘I can tell you why. Someone is trying to scare her away, and she’s too stubborn to leave.’

  ‘Which is all very good,’ he agreed, ‘but what if there’s more to it?’