Shadow of a Doubt

by Michelle Davies

Lisa

  Friday afternoon after school saw Lisa in her favourite spot in the house: face down on her bed, plugged into her Discman with ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ blocking out everything and everyone. So she didn’t hear the rat-a-tat-tat on the door, or the footsteps shuffling across the carpet, and the unexpected tap on her shoulder that followed sent her body jolting towards the ceiling.

  ‘You made me jump!’ she screeched as she yanked the headphones off, her heart thundering in her chest.

  ‘You’ll ruin your ears having it that loud,’ said Karen, nodding to the headphones in Lisa’s hands, where the mournful voice of Kurt Cobain could clearly be heard.

  ‘What do you want, Mum?’

  ‘It’s nearly six-thirty. Auntie Neet’s expecting you.’

  ‘Shit, I didn’t realise the time.’

  ‘Language,’ admonished Karen, but Lisa could see she wasn’t cross really. Her mum was pretty laid-back about stuff like swearing, probably to counter the fact her stepdad was a stickler for not doing it.

  Lisa scrabbled off the bed. She was excited about her first paid babysitting gig – she was going to put the money towards a pair of DMs, reasoning her stepdad could hardly object if she paid for them herself. Auntie Neet said she’d give her the going rate too, rather than a lesser ‘we’re family’ fee. Lisa grabbed her trainers by the door and was stuffing her feet into them when Karen announced she was going to walk her round.

  ‘Why do you need to come?’ asked Lisa, annoyed. This was her arrangement with Auntie Neet, nothing to do with her mum.

  ‘I need to ask your aunt something.’

  ‘So ring her.’

  ‘I’d rather ask in person.’

  Lisa knew what her mum really wanted to do was check up on Auntie Neet before her night out. It was all she’d talked about for the past few days – who was this ex-colleague she was going out with, why were they going to a wine bar right across the other side of town, wouldn’t it be better if they came to the Fleece with Karen and Gary and made a night of it? She was obsessed.

  ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I don’t want you there while Auntie Neet’s showing me where everything is and telling me what to do.’

  Karen’s laugh came out like a bark.

  ‘You know where everything is already. All you’ve got to do is sit the kids in front of the telly, then send them up to bed when it’s time.’

  Lisa flushed with anger. This was an important job for her and she wanted to take it seriously – and be taken seriously.

  ‘Auntie Neet might have special instructions for me,’ she said hotly.

  Karen’s face darkened. ‘Well, if Cara gives you any trouble going to bed, you call us at the Fleece and your dad or me will come back. Tessa behind the bar won’t mind you ringing their phone.’

  ‘Cara’s always fine with me.’

  ‘Hmm. You know what she’s been like lately.’

  Lisa rolled her eyes. ‘She’s a bit grumpy, so what? You all act like she’s going mad or something.’

  ‘It’s more than grumpiness,’ said Karen darkly.

  ‘It’ll be fine. We’re going to watch a film and then go to bed.’ Lisa was going to stay over on a camp bed in Cara’s room so Auntie Neet didn’t have to worry about getting her home late at night. ‘I was thinking we could watch Wayne’s World.’

  ‘What certificate is it?’

  Lisa went over to the row of VHS cassettes on her bookshelf. They were stacked alphabetically and it didn’t take her long to find the film starting at the back.

  ‘It’s a PG.’

  Karen appeared surprised. ‘Is it? I thought it would be a 15 because it’s a bit rude in places.’

  ‘Mum, it’s not rude,’ said Lisa peevishly.

  ‘Even so, I think it’s too old for Matty. It’s not appropriate viewing.’

  Lisa sighed resignedly, then slid the case back onto the shelf.

  ‘You’re better off watching one of their Disney films,’ her mum added. ‘One that’ll keep Cara calm.’

  Auntie Neet was dolled up and ready to leave when they arrived. She was irritated to see Karen, which pleased Lisa enormously.

  ‘Lisa didn’t need you to come with her,’ she snapped. ‘She’s been walking to ours on her own since she was seven.’

  ‘Mum said she needed to tell you something,’ said Lisa impishly, putting her mum on the spot.

  ‘Oh? What?’ asked Anita.

  Lisa could tell her mum hadn’t thought ahead and was now scrabbling to come up with a reason why she was there.

  ‘Um, actually, I was going to see if you wanted a lift. Gary’s boss has offered him overtime and he won’t be back until eight now.’

  Lisa frowned. Her stepdad was doing a lot of overtime at the moment, but him and her mum still kept going on about being skint. ‘Are you sure he’s at work?’ she blurted out.

  ‘Of course he is,’ said Karen, bemused. She turned to her sister. ‘Do you want a lift, then?’

  ‘My taxi’s on its way,’ said Anita in a tight voice. ‘Honestly, Karen, why are you making such a big deal about my night out?’

  ‘I’m not,’ replied Karen hotly. ‘I’m just offering you a favour.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re trying to muscle in. I know what will happen – you’ll give me a lift, then when we get to the pub, you’ll ask to say hi to my friend and then you’ll end up hanging around for the evening. I can read you like a book, sis.’

  Karen’s eyes reddened and Lisa suddenly felt sorry for her mum. She didn’t have any female friends to go out with for an evening: her social life amounted to drinks with Gary at the Fleece, or occasionally with him and Anita and Paul. She’s probably a bit lonely, Lisa thought, and impulsively she reached for her mum’s hand and squeezed it.

  ‘Thanks for walking me round, Mum.’

  Karen flashed her a grateful smile, then turned back to Anita. ‘Well, the offer’s there if you want it.’

  ‘I don’t,’ came the sharp reply.

  Karen, clearly upset, made for the back door, but Lisa managed to grab her before she reached it. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Mum.’

  Her mum hugged her back, then whispered in her ear so Anita couldn’t hear: ‘Don’t forget you can call us if Cara plays up.’

  Lisa grinned and nodded, then left the sisters saying a tetchy goodbye while she went into the lounge, where her cousins were. Both were sitting on the floor in front of the television: Matty playing with his cars and Cara kneeling by the coffee table, drawing with felt-tip pens. She looked up and beamed as Lisa entered the room, which made her relax a little. Despite her mum’s concerns, Lisa had never experienced any problems herself with Cara and they’d always got on well despite the four-year age gap. Babysitting her was going to be fine.

  And it was, at first. Anita left at seven, after enveloping the two younger children in a cloud of perfume as she hugged them goodbye. She left the number of the wine bar where she was going written down for Lisa, along with instructions about what snacks they could have before bedtime. Matty usually went up first, at eight, but tonight he was allowed to stay up until half-past as a treat. Cara’s bedtime was normally 9 p.m., but Auntie Neet said it could be pushed to ten to give the girls more time to hang out.

  Until Matty went to bed, they watched the Nickelodeon channel and Cara seemed content enough with that. But when Lisa came back downstairs after tucking Matty in and reading him a story as he dropped off, she found Cara fiddling impatiently with the video recorder beneath the TV, trying to insert a tape in the slot at the front, but it wouldn’t go in.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I want to watch one of Dad’s tapes.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘It was a pretend programme that was on telly when I was small. Dad taped it and he says it’s really good.’

  ‘A pretend programme?’ echoed Lisa. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It was pretending to be real.’

  Nonplussed, Lisa went over and
took the tape from her. On the spine, in her uncle’s handwriting, was the words Ghostwatch – NOT FOR CHILDREN!

  ‘It’s about ghosts?’

  ‘Yes. Dad said it’s about some famous people off the telly pretending to look for ghosts in a haunted house.’

  ‘Your dad’s written it’s not for children.’

  ‘That was for when we were really little. I’m old enough now.’

  ‘I still don’t think we should watch it.’

  ‘But I need to!’ Cara flared up. ‘Give it back.’

  Lisa folded her arms defiantly, holding the tape down by her side beyond Cara’s grasp.

  ‘No. We’re not watching it.’

  Cara stood up, her little hands balled into fists. ‘I have to watch it,’ she said through clenched teeth.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because.’

  ‘Because what?’

  Cara started crying, much to Lisa’s surprise. Usually it took a lot to upset her cousin; she wasn’t the weepy kind.

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’ she asked.

  Cara’s response was to cry even harder. Lisa dropped the tape on the carpet and rushed to her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I have to watch that tape,’ Cara sobbed, as a trail of snot escaped her left nostril.

  ‘Why, though? What’s so special about it?’

  Cara wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Her left one glistened as the snot spread with her tears.

  ‘Because I need to know what to do about ghosts.’

  ‘Is it something for school? Are you doing a project?’

  ‘No, it’s for here.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  For a moment, Cara said nothing as she stared at her cousin. Then, in a small, quavering voice, she said, ‘I think we’ve got a ghost in our house and I need to know how to get rid of it.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Lisa

  Lisa burst out laughing. She couldn’t help herself. ‘Oh, Cara, don’t be daft.’

  ‘But it’s true. I’ve heard it.’

  Cara was trembling, so Lisa led her over to the sofa and sat her down. She hooked her arm around her cousin’s narrow shoulders, noticed how clammy her skin was and wondered if she should get her a fizzy drink for the sugar, like grown-ups did with sweet tea. Cara refused the offer though, which surprised Lisa because her cousin normally never said no to anything loaded with sugar.

  ‘You said you’ve been hearing things – like what?’ she asked.

  ‘Tapping noises, downstairs.’

  ‘What kind of tapping?’

  ‘Like someone knocking on the wall.’ Cara demonstrated, holding up her hand and tapping the air with her knuckles. She gazed imploringly at her cousin, eyes still wide. ‘I’m not making it up.’

  ‘I’m not saying you are,’ Lisa said carefully, fighting hard to contain the giggles threatening to erupt from her throat, ‘but the noise might not have been made by a ghost. It was probably your mum or dad.’

  ‘Everyone else was asleep,’ said Cara. ‘What else could it have been?’

  ‘Older kids, then, mucking around.’

  ‘Who would do that?’

  Lisa could think of one. Tishk, who lived next door and who Lisa fancied. He was older than her by three years and was always out late. But would he really break into someone’s house to play a silly trick like this? No way, she decided. He was too cool for that.

  ‘It has to be a ghost,’ Cara reiterated.

  Lisa gulped down a deep breath to quash her giggles completely. Her cousin was clearly frightened and she should try to be more understanding.

  ‘When was this?’ she asked.

  ‘It started a while ago.’

  ‘Started? You mean it’s been more than once?’

  Cara nodded. ‘Yes. First it was knocking, then I’ve heard footsteps and creaking. Not every night, but on and off since …’ She paused for a moment and bit down on her bottom lip as she thought to herself. ‘I think it started after Christmas.’

  Lisa’s arm fell from Cara’s shoulders. ‘Christmas? That long ago?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you reckon you’ve heard someone walking about?’

  Cara nodded. ‘In the hallway and on the stairs.’

  ‘Has anyone else heard these noises?’

  ‘I think it’s only me.’

  Lisa shivered. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but what Cara was saying still scared her and her heartbeat accelerated as she looked across the lounge to the door that led to the hallway that her aunt and uncle always kept shut. What if something was lurking on the other side right now, waiting until they ventured upstairs …?

  She shook her head as though to dislodge the thought. ‘Ghosts aren’t real,’ she said firmly.

  ‘How do you know that?’ asked Cara.

  ‘Because I’ve never seen one.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean they’re not real. It just means one hasn’t showed itself to you.’

  Lisa bristled. Her cousin had lately developed an infuriating, know-it-all way of challenging everything other people said and it was no wonder she drove Auntie Neet up the wall at times. Lisa’s stepdad said Cara was precocious, a word she had to look up in a dictionary because she didn’t know what it meant, but when she read the definition, it made perfect sense.

  ‘I don’t believe in ghosts and you shouldn’t either.’ She got up from the sofa, bored of the conversation. ‘Let’s put Grease on,’ she declared. It was an old favourite, although her preference had shifted from Good Sandy to Bad Sandy now she was older.

  ‘I don’t want to watch it,’ said Cara stubbornly. ‘Why won’t you help me get rid of the ghost?’

  ‘How do you expect me to do that?’ Lisa scoffed. ‘Wave a magic wand?’

  ‘We could ask it to go away. We could use a Ouija board again to talk to it.’

  Lisa stared at her cousin. ‘How do you even know what a Ouija board is?’ She only knew herself because she’d watched a horror film that featured one when she was round at her friend Claire’s house.

  ‘Evie told me about them. Evie, my friend from school,’ Cara added on seeing Lisa’s blank expression. ‘I told her about the noises and that I thought it was a ghost and she said her nana used to talk to dead people using a board with the alphabet on, so I asked our teacher if she knew what it was called and she said it was a Ouija board but that they weren’t toys and we shouldn’t even be talking about them; she got really cross. But Evie said I could make my own at home, so I did. I made it out of paper and it wasn’t very good, but me and Matty played with it and I think that’s why the ghost started coming more often.’

  Lisa laughed at the silliness of Cara’s statement, but the girl didn’t seem to care.

  ‘Then Matty drew all over it, so I had to throw it away. Can we make another one now, to ask the ghost to go away?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘No, we can’t.’ Lisa hated craft and wasn’t about to start cutting and sticking things. Suddenly a thought popped into her head unbidden. ‘Are you sure the ghost isn’t your sister Michael back from Australia?’ she smirked.

  Cara frowned. ‘Who?’

  ‘Don’t you remember? When you were about three, you had this imaginary friend called Michael, only for some reason you insisted he was your sister. You used to play with him and talk to him all the time.’

  ‘I did not,’ said Cara indignantly.

  ‘Yes, you did. You even got your mum to make him extra fish fingers for tea. Ask her if you don’t believe me. He was around for ages, then all of a sudden you said he’d gone on holiday to Australia and you didn’t know when he’d be coming back. Do you really not remember? He went everywhere with you, even on our holiday to Southsea. You stole a stick of rock from a shop and said Michael made you do it.’

  Cara’s face lit up. ‘I do remember him! I remember the stick of rock too. Dad got really cross with me and made me take it back.’ She paused, thinking. ‘Michael had re
d hair and always wore stripy shorts.’

  ‘I bet that’s who’s making the noise,’ said Lisa, stifling a yawn. It was nearly ten o’clock and she was ready for bed herself. ‘Michael’s back from his travels.’

  ‘It’s not. I know it’s not.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Lisa asked idly, not actually caring what the answer was, then freezing on the spot when Cara gave it.

  ‘Because Michael was a boy the same age as me and this ghost is a grown-up like Daddy.’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Anita

  The sisters and their families ate lunch together every other Sunday. It was a tradition that began shortly after Anita and Paul moved into their house round the corner from Karen’s; they would alternate hosting, and this Sunday it was Anita’s turn. Thankfully, Paul was home to help her with the preparation that went into feeding all eight of them. He’d arrived back late the previous evening and was presently next door in the dining room showing Matty how to lay the table, while Cara was in the kitchen with Anita, lining up the ingredients for the pavlova they were going to serve for dessert.

  ‘Is that everything, Mummy?’

  Anita cast an eye over the worktop. ‘Eggs, caster sugar, strawberries, cornflower, vanilla essence, icing sugar, double cream …’ She stopped. ‘You’ve forgotten the white wine vinegar.’

  Cara’s face creased. ‘Yuck. Why are we putting vinegar in it? I hate vinegar.’

  ‘It’s what the recipe calls for, sweetheart. It’s only a tiny bit though.’

  Cara contemplated her mother for a moment, then went to the larder cupboard to fetch the bottle without further complaint. Anita smiled with relief, then in the next breath scolded herself for doing so. Her daughter wasn’t some monster she needed to be on tenterhooks around – most of the time, Cara was as calm as she was now, and while her outbursts had heightened over the past couple of months, Anita chose to believe Dr Stephens when he said Cara would grow out of them.

  Cara skipped back across the kitchen, bottle in hand. She was in a good mood and Anita suspected Paul’s return was at the root of it.

  ‘Are you happy Daddy’s home?’

  Cara nodded. ‘I like it when he’s here.’