The House

by Eden Darry

  Her hand which held her phone shook as she shone the light on the table where scalpels and tongs and other instruments she didn’t recognize, but that gave her chills nonetheless, lay. Unlike her dream, these were rusty.

  To the left, the wall had been bricked off, and the rest of the basement would be on the other side with the furnace most likely at the far end. You didn’t need to be Brain of Britain to work out what this place was. She’d seen enough TV to recognize a makeshift mortuary when she saw one.

  Fin walked to the bookcases and shone the torchlight over some of the titles: Pullman’s Amputation Cyclopedia, Carter’s Anatomy, Episodes in Human Dissection. There were bound ledgers stuffed with loose papers she didn’t dare look inside, and jars. Jars filled with a murky substance and unidentifiable lumps of something floating around inside. Her stomach roiled. You didn’t need to be a doctor to guess what was in those jars.

  Two floors above, her kids slept on, unaware of the horror in the basement. At some point in time this basement was used to dissect bodies—the tunnel leading to the trees made sense now. Somehow, the police who arrested Nathaniel Cushion never found this place. It must be where he brought his victims and—

  Fin wretched, struggling to keep her dinner down. Okay, get a grip, this happened years ago.

  That wouldn’t matter to Sadie. It would be just the excuse she was waiting for to clear off to her mum and dad’s. It would back up her nonsense about ghosts or whatever she thought pushed Lucy off the playset. Fin couldn’t blame her. Living in a murderer’s house was one thing, but living in a house where people had been butchered was something else. The evidence was all around her. She’d already seen it in a dream, and now here it was in real life. What the fuck was going on? Was Sadie right? Was this place haunted? Was it bad?

  Christ, she was so tired. Her brain suddenly felt like mush, and her thoughts became foggy and muddled. She couldn’t deal with this now. It was just a house…just an ordinary house with…with a bad history. That was all.

  They couldn’t leave. Fin liked it here. Lucy liked it here. Liam and Sadie would grow to like it here or they could leave. She could fix this. There was no way they could leave this house. Not with all the money they’d sunk into it. Not with the astronomical penalty fees they’d have to pay the mortgage company if they sold.

  Fin would need to think of a way to get all this stuff out without Sadie noticing. There was no way she could leave it down here like this. Even she couldn’t go on about her business with that stuff in those jars.

  A thought occurred to her: Would this be considered a crime scene? Granted, it was probably over a hundred years old and the murderer was dead, but did that matter to the police? Probably not. And if she got rid of all this, would she be committing some kind of crime? Of course she would. It was obvious no one had ever found this room. The layers of wallpaper over the door upstairs were proof enough. Besides, maybe they would find DNA from his victims and be able to put some families at ease. Families who didn’t even know the dead—these murders were at least sixty years old, at least.

  She needed a drink and she needed to think. She could push Lucy’s wardrobe over to the other side and cover the door. Drag her feet on fixing up Lucy’s bedroom. Sadie would buy it for a while. She also needed to move those boxes out of the house before Sadie looked through any more of them.

  She’d put them in the workshop—keep all the incriminating evidence in one place. A place Sadie never visited.

  Fin turned and went back up the stairs trying not to think about how badly she was deceiving Sadie. Or about the fact she was considering covering up a crime—if that’s what it was. There could be an innocent explanation. Yeah, right.

  When she would have turned right, back into Lucy’s room, Fin saw the passage carried on. She followed it all the way round, with another door into Liam’s bedroom, then past the bathroom, and finishing at the spare bedroom where she saw another door cut into the wall. The passage appeared to wrap around the house but with access from only three rooms. The three rooms, coincidentally, that all had internal vents. She looked up and saw a thin metal pipe—maybe a gas pipe?—fixed along the top of the wall and running all the way around the passage. In the other direction, it went down into the basement.

  A terrible sort of horror dawned on her. Secret passages, no door handles, a metal table in a hidden basement room. Her skin prickled and a cold lump settled in her stomach. What the fuck was this place?

  She was afraid she might know. The rooms with the vents were used to kill his victims. Jesus Christ, the whole place was a murder house.

  Fin hurried back down the passage and out into Lucy’s room. Downstairs, she poured herself a large neat vodka.

  * * *

  The house was quiet when Sadie let herself in the front door. It was still early, she supposed, and depending on how late Fin let the children stay up, they might still all be sleeping.

  She was grateful. She’d slept badly at Rose’s flat, going over everything in her head. She’d come to the conclusion she’d give Fin an ultimatum: either they went to therapy or she was leaving. That wasn’t the hard part—the hard part would be telling Fin she didn’t want to live in this house any more, whether they went to therapy or not. Sadie hated this house, had grown to hate it more and more each day. To a certain extent it was probably an outward manifestation of her feelings over her marriage. But it was also just bad. Liam hated it too—he was wetting the bed again, for God’s sake.

  She’d wait until after the weekend when the children were back at school because she knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant discussion, and she didn’t want them to witness it.

  In the kitchen, Fin had removed the light fitting and repaired the dining table as best she could. They’d have to buy a new one because the split to the wood was severe, and the surface was gouged in places where the chandelier landed.

  It had been Sadie’s grandmother’s and was brought all the way from Trinidad in the 1950s. Her grandmother’s own father had made it, and several generations of Tates had sat around it. Sadie shook her head. It was now broken beyond repair thanks to this bloody house. She only hoped her marriage wasn’t in the same state.

  Upstairs, a door slammed shut.

  That was the other thing she wouldn’t miss. Bloody doors banging shut for no apparent reason. Sadie set the kettle to boil and looked out the window. It was a shame because the area was so lovely, and she had to admit she preferred looking out on this every morning as opposed to on someone else’s house backing onto theirs.

  “You’re home.”

  Sadie jumped at the sound of Fin’s voice. She turned and was instantly worried. Fin looked terrible. “Fin, are you sick?”

  “No. Why does everyone keep asking me that.” She sat at the table and closed her eyes.

  The dark circles were now almost black and she appeared to have lost weight in the twenty-four hours since Sadie last saw her.

  “You don’t look good,” Sadie said carefully.

  “I didn’t sleep very well.” Fin waved her hand impatiently. “How was your night?”

  Sadie’d never lied to Fin before. She had never felt the need to in all their time together. Rose had promised she wouldn’t tell Fin about Rachel. On the condition Sadie did. She planned to, but not today with the children home. “My night was fine. How did it go with the children?” Sadie busied herself with making tea in case Fin saw through the lie.

  “Good. How’s Rachel? How’s everyone at your old work?”

  “Everyone’s fine.” Sadie put Fin’s tea down in front of her. When had they become so stilted around one another? “You moved the boxes.”

  Fin looked around as if just noticing they were gone. “I threw a load of stuff out yesterday.”

  “Really? All those photos and documents? I would have thought you’d want to look through them.”

  Fin shrugged and Sadie got the sense she was lying, but she didn’t push it.

  Fin stood up. “I’m go
ing to go down to the workshop. I’ve got a few things to do.”

  “Okay.”

  Sadie watched her go, relieved they wouldn’t have to sit and make awkward conversation any more.

  She closed her eyes against the tears that welled there and prayed her marriage could be saved.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “Come on, Liam, get out of the bathroom.” Sadie banged on the door while Lucy hopped from one foot to the other beside her. “What have I told you about locking doors? Liam?”

  There was no answer from the other side. “Lucy, go and use our bathroom, quickly, darling.”

  She put her ear against the door and heard nothing from the other side. “Liam?” Sadie banged louder. She tried the handle again and it was still locked. She was losing her patience. “Liam! I’m going to count to three, and if you—”

  “Mummy?” Liam called and it sounded like he was downstairs. She went to the head of the stairs, and sure enough, there he was, standing at the bottom with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “I thought you were in the bathroom?” she said, confused.

  “Ages ago. I’m having cereal.”

  So who was in the bathroom? It wasn’t Fin, because she would use their bathroom. Besides, Sadie saw her head into the basement first thing, and she hadn’t surfaced since.

  Behind her, she heard the sound of the bolt being slid back on the bathroom door. Before she had time to turn and see who was in there, she felt a hard shove from behind. She made a grab for the handrail but fell short. She tried to push backward on her feet, but one foot caught on the edge of the carpet runner, and then she was tumbling down the stairs.

  * * *

  Fin looked up from her coffee, and her first thought was someone had dropped something. The sound continued, and when she heard Liam scream, she ran out of the kitchen.

  Sadie was lying halfway down the stairs, her hand gripping a broken banister which had obviously prevented her falling all the way to the ground.

  Fin felt sick. She could have broken her neck. Ignoring Liam who was bordering on hysterical, she went to Sadie.

  “Sadie, babe, can you hear me?” Fin touched her cheek.

  “I’m okay,” she said, sitting up.

  “Hang on.” Fin scooted behind her to support her back. “Maybe you shouldn’t sit up. Let me call an ambulance.”

  “No, I’m fine. Bruised, but fine.”

  Fin wasn’t sure she agreed. Sadie was pale and her cheek was starting to swell. “At least let’s go to the hospital.”

  “I said I’m fine. Just a bit bruised.” Sadie stood and Fin helped to support her.

  “What happened?” Fin asked.

  Sadie turned to look at her then, and Fin was surprised by the anger in her face, as if Fin pushed her down the stairs.

  “What happened? The same thing that always happens in this bloody horrible house!”

  Fin stepped back in the face of Sadie’s sudden anger.

  “Something pushed me. Oh, I know you think I’m mad, but this house is fucking evil and I’ve had enough!”

  Fin turned to look at their son who was still standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Liam, go in the kitchen.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I hate this house too.”

  Like a guttering flame, Fin’s patience finally died. She turned back to Sadie. “Go, then, you ungrateful bitch. Go on, get the fuck out of here.”

  “Don’t worry, I am. I can’t stand you and I can’t stand this house either.”

  Now they were getting to it, Fin thought. The real reason Sadie didn’t want to live here. She’d poisoned their kids’ minds with crap about the house being evil, but in reality Sadie just wanted out of the marriage. “The feeling is mutual. I hate you and I really hate your fucking father. So get out of my house, you conniving, vicious bitch.”

  Fin didn’t realize she was screaming until she was standing with her face in Sadie’s, gripping her arms and shaking her. What am I doing? She let go and stepped back. At the same time, Liam rushed past them, sobbing, and Fin felt her world crashing down. Lucy stood at the top of the stairs staring down at them, the same fear in her face as Sadie’s.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her legs gave out and she sat heavily on the stairs. “You should go. Take the kids.”

  “I’m sorry, Fin. I can’t stay here any more.”

  Fin nodded. It was all she could manage because if she spoke now, her voice would fail and she would start to sob.

  “I’ll pack a few things. We can speak in a few days.”

  Fin nodded again but didn’t look around at Sadie. She couldn’t. It would hurt.

  She heard Sadie start to walk up the rest of the stairs. Fin put her head in her hands. She was so tired.

  The stairs creaked as Lucy came down and sat beside her. She put one tiny hand on Fin’s shoulder and said solemnly, “Mama’s sad. S’okay. You want a biscuit?”

  Fin looked at her daughter and smiled. “Yeah, let’s both have a biscuit, shall we?”

  Fin picked her up and carried her into the kitchen, but her steps faltered when she saw what was on the kitchen table. It was a photograph of the Victorian gentleman. She hadn’t put it there. Lucy pointed to it and said, “Koosh.”

  “What?” Her own voice seemed to come from far away.

  “That’s Koosh. My friend.”

  Fin gently lowered her to the ground. Her heart was beating and she felt sick. “What do you mean, Lucy?”

  Lucy walked over to the photo and picked it up. Fin quashed the urge to knock it out of her hand. “It’s Koosh. See?” She held it up for Fin’s inspection.

  “That’s your friend who made you mess up your room? The one you play monster with?”

  “I don’t play monster with Koosh no more.” She shook her head vigorously. “Too scary.”

  Fin sat down and tried to process this information. Nathaniel Cushion was appearing to her daughter? Could it be possible? It was all too much. She felt her poor tired brain feebly grasp at more excuses and more denials about this place. The truth was plain, wasn’t it? Everyone but her thought this place was bad. She had the fucking evidence in the basement, in the walls, and running through the blood in her veins. What was she going to do?

  Her phone rang and she fumbled around in her pocket for it. “Hello?”

  “Fin?” It was DC Helen Lyle and Fin’s heart sank even further.

  “Yeah. What’s happened?”

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of Sadie, but her phone is going to voicemail.”

  “She’s upstairs. What’s wrong?”

  There was a beat of silence, then, “Lance Sherry escaped police custody.”

  Fin was numb. All she wanted to do was lay her head down on the kitchen table and go to sleep. Possibly forever. Instead she asked, “When?”

  “About an hour ago. He was complaining of chest pains. We transported him to hospital and he got out his bathroom window.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know. We’re sending a car over to your place now. It’ll stay with you until he’s rearrested.”

  “There’s no point. You should send it to Sadie’s parents’ house. That’s where she’ll be staying.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Yeah, so was she. Really sorry. “I’ll tell Sadie. Please find him.”

  “We will.”

  Fin hung up. She couldn’t believe it. Things were going from bad to worse. A month ago she would have been shouting down the phone at Helen Lyle, but it seemed all the fight had just gone out of her. She couldn’t sleep or eat, her wife was leaving her, and she couldn’t summon the energy to do anything about it.

  Sadie screamed her name from upstairs. Once. Twice. All the energy came rushing back suddenly. Fin looked at Lucy. “Stay here.”

  Lucy nodded.

  * * *

  Lance Sherry wasn’t taking any chances this time, and he wasn’t hanging around. After giving the police the slip, he’d headed
straight to his mum’s house. She was at work but kept a spare key under a fake rock in the front garden. It was amazing how stupid people were.

  He let himself in and changed clothes. He took his stepdad’s car keys because he wouldn’t be home until late. Lance was leaving for good. Back to Spain and then maybe Portugal, depending on what he fancied. Just one loose end to sort out first.

  One particular lawyer bitch who was the source of all his problems.

  He found a suitable knife for the job in his mum’s kitchen. He took a couple of practice jabs imagining the bitch’s soft flesh yielding when he stuck it in. Again. And again. And again.

  By the time he’d finished with her, they wouldn’t recognize her. He’d make sure he cut that beautiful face to ribbons. That smirking superior fucking face.

  Lance let himself out of the house and got in the car. At this time of day, it shouldn’t take more than an hour to get there.

  * * *

  Upstairs, Sadie was hammering on Liam’s bedroom door. Fin saw her pull back and kick it hard but it wouldn’t budge.

  “What’s going on?” She held Sadie’s shoulders and turned her to face her. Sadie’s eyes were wild.

  “He’s in there and I can’t open the door.”

  Fin turned to the door. “Liam! Liam, open the door.”

  “No, Fin, it’s not Liam. It’s him.”

  Fin knew who she meant, and instead of disagreeing she ran into Lucy’s room. Fin hefted the wardrobe aside, unmindful of the way it teetered then crashed to the floor. She opened the hidden door and turned right towards Liam’s room. The hidden door to Liam’s room was wallpapered on the other side but it tore away easily enough.

  Fin pushed through and saw Liam lying unconscious on the floor. She gathered him up into her arms and went back the way she’d come.

  As she carried him back into the hall, she shouted at Sadie to call an ambulance and threw her phone to her. She put him on the floor and felt for a pulse. He was so pale.