No Place Like Home

by Lynda Stacey

  Taking in a deep, measured breath, Molly noted that her sister would have been more suited to attending a drama school, rather than the local comprehensive. ‘You’ll soon get to know people and the nearest shop is in the next village. It’s only a two-minute drive away. And as for the house, we have no control over where it is, so please suck it up, ’cause without it, we’re homeless. Mum left it to us and…’ Molly added wistfully, ‘it’s a new start, Beth, we should be grateful.’

  ‘You’re ruining my life,’ Beth suddenly growled. Her bottom lip wobbled and her hands went up to her head, where she pressed them tightly to each side of her brow.

  ‘I know,’ Molly replied thoughtfully. She didn’t know how to explain. Couldn’t grasp that she was suddenly a parent, wanted to tell her sister the truth, but couldn’t. ‘But I promised her, Beth. I went to her grave and I promised our mum that I’d look after you, that I’d bring you to live in this house.’ She pulled the file out of the footwell, laid it on her knee, with the picture of the house looking back at them. ‘It’s exactly what she’d have wanted.’ Placing a hand on Beth’s shoulder, Molly stared directly into her eyes, nodded. ‘Don’t you see? This house, it’s the perfect sanctuary, it could be our final move, a place we’ll never have to leave.’ She smiled, arched a brow. ‘It’s our chance to stop running, Beth. Our mum, I think she felt safe here and what’s more, I’m absolutely sure she’d have known how far it was to the bus stop, and how annoyed you’d get about that lane.’ She gave her sister a slight smile, winked.

  Putting the car into gear, Molly carefully squeezed the pedal, manoeuvred slowly along the track. It was getting darker and more eerie by the minute and while struggling to avoid the furrows that defined each side of the lane, she turned the corner, spotted the house, hit the brakes at the last minute and, with a jolt and a thud, she watched as the once white picket fence begin to wobble and fall.

  Flinging the car door open in disgust, Beth pushed her shoes back onto her feet and stepped into the breeze that immediately whipped her hair up and around in all directions, making her grab at it with one hand, while slamming the door with the other.

  Watching her sister go, Molly followed, took a quick look at the damaged fence and shrugged. ‘It was probably about to fall down anyway,’ she whispered to herself, then made her way along the cobbled path and towards the front door.

  As a child, she’d often sat on the beach below, looked up and commented on how beautiful this very house had looked. But now, as she got closer, she noticed the disrepair, the overwhelming look of being worn and unloved. Even the climbing plant that used to grow around the front door had long since withered and died, along with the many shrubs and plants that were fighting a losing battle among the brambles and bindweed.

  ‘Bloody hell, Moll, are we seriously going to live in that? It looks even more of a dump than I imagined,’ Beth grunted as she walked back to the car, peered cautiously over the top, one hand taking pictures with her phone, the other still holding tightly to her hair.

  ‘Hey, language,’ Molly chided, gave Beth a look, adjusted her sunglasses that sat neatly on top of her head to create the perfect headband. ‘Okay, so I admit it. It’s not quite as beautiful as it used to be, or even as good as it looked on the solicitor’s paperwork. But with a bit of work, it’ll be fine. You’ll see,’ she said hopefully. She pushed her shoulder firmly against the front door and yelped. ‘Bloody hell, that’s stiff.’

  ‘Hey, language…’ Beth threw back, laughed, then froze. ‘Moll. What was that noise?’

  ‘What noise?’

  ‘Shhh.’ Beth stood on her tiptoes, peered over the car in meerkat fashion. ‘I heard something.’ Stepping over the fallen fence, Beth walked along the path, towards where Molly stood, tiptoed around the house, disappeared out of sight. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Beth. Please.’ Feeling her anxiety rise, Molly stepped to one side, anxiously waited for Beth to come back, fought the urge to follow her. ‘Beth… Beth… come and help me… I need you to help me open… this… door.’ Molly gave intermittent shoves with her shoulder, tipped her head from side to side, constantly looking for Beth. ‘There’s something… stopping it.’

  Reappearing, Beth walked back to the car, shook her head. ‘Bloody hell, Moll. It’s dark round there. I bet it gets real spooky at night, it’d be so easy to sleepwalk and fall off the cliff.’ Using the car as a barrier, she slid down next to the wheel, crouched near the floor, let go of her hair, allowed her attention to return to her phone and frantically tapped at the screen, before glaring in Molly’s direction. ‘Moll, please tell me we have some bloody Wi-Fi.’

  ‘Nope. No Wi-Fi. Sorry. Be a few days till it’s sorted.’ Standing back from the door, Molly crossed her arms and stared at her sister. ‘Are you going to help me?’ Molly almost sang the words, couldn’t wait to get in, felt her whole body buzz with an excitement that was interspersed with trepidation. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, whether it would be their best move ever, or their worst nightmare. All she really did know was that there was no time for indecision, and for now, they were both safe and together.

  Giving the door another push, Molly looked over her shoulder at Beth. She’d walked away from the car and now stood staring up at the roof, at the old dormer windows.

  ‘Is that… is that where he fell from?’ Beth asked, pointing upwards, her face contorted with confusion. ‘Can you imagine him lying there, screaming?’

  Molly turned to where her sister pointed, swallowed hard and wished wholeheartedly that their mum had never revealed how Michael had died. ‘It was raining. He slipped.’ She spoke softly, but subconsciously she could hear his cries and wondered how long he’d lain on the patio at the back of the house before he was found.

  Turning, she looked down the lane. She could easily see the house next door, but the other was a little further around the corner, just one edge of it remained in view. Carefully she tried to judge the distance, wondered if either were inhabited, if there would have been anyone home and even if they had been, whether they’d have heard his screams. She realised that with the cliff on one side and the sea on the other, it was more than doubtful. He’d been surrounded by the most perfect sound buffers, which could easily drown out any amount of noise and swallow it whole. ‘It was just an accident, Beth, nothing more.’

  ‘Well, the thought of him lying there for days, waiting to be found. It gives me the creeps.’ Beth spoke with a hysterical squeal. ‘And think of all the blood. There had to be some, didn’t there?’

  ‘Beth, you’re freaking yourself out. In fact,’ Molly waved a hand around in the air, ‘enough of the dramatics. You’re freaking me out.’

  ‘Hey. You think I’m being dramatic? It’s you that wants to live here. Not me. I wanted to stay at Dan’s.’ She kicked at the car wheel in a temper, pushed out her bottom lip, stared at her feet, then bent down and, with a tissue, polished the dirt from her shoe.

  Turning her attention back to the door, Molly once again rammed it with her shoulder, until just a small gap appeared. Convinced it would move no further, she knelt down and nervously pushed her hand through the space between the door and the jamb. ‘There has to be something trapped behind it.’ She held her breath and closed her eyes, whilst almost lying on her side with one hand tentatively grasping at the space behind the door. ‘I can feel…’ She opened her eyes and looked up at the threatening sky. ‘Oh, I think it’s a carpet, I just need to…’ Squeezing her arm further inside, she managed to wriggle her fingers until eventually she felt the door open to reveal what looked like a year’s worth of post.

  ‘Beth, we’re in. Come look.’ Scrambling to her feet, Molly stepped inside to see that one large piece of carpet had been purposely wedged behind the door. The rest of the carpet had been haphazardly hacked at and now just small, ragged remnants remained, still attached to the gripper.

  Crouching down, she tentatively began to poke at the envelopes and pushed the paper mountain ou
t of her way. ‘Oh wow, so much post, so much crap and, oh boy, so many dead spiders.’ She made a mental note to bring the vacuum in from the car and pulled at what was left of the carpet in an attempt to flatten it back down.

  Pushing up the sleeves of her jumper, she stood up, walked along the hallway and, without a thought, began pulling at nails that were still randomly scattered across the wall. ‘Looks like all these walls were full of pictures. Looks like Michael’s niece emptied the place. Even went as far as to rip up the bloody carpet and take it with her.’ Molly looked over her shoulder, caught sight of a small black and white picture that still hung on the wall. It was yellow with age, hung all by itself, forgotten, unwanted and half hidden by the door.

  Lifting her hand, she ran a finger across the glass, where in the picture a young man was standing by the front door, smiling back at her. A child’s bike lay at his feet. It was a picture full of sunshine, of family, and for a moment, Molly just stared at it, feeling as though she’d seen it before. ‘Michael, was this you?’ she whispered. Then she stepped back, regretting she hadn’t seen him more often, got to know him better, liked him more. ‘You were a good-looking guy. I’ll give you that.’ She paused, her fingertips hovering over the white picket fence, the same one she’d just destroyed.

  Taking the picture down from its hook, Molly placed it on the windowsill. She tipped her head from side to side, suddenly felt sad and wondered if it might have been left behind on purpose. ‘Your niece must have been really pissed that you didn’t leave her the house, mustn’t she?’ Molly sighed, heard the sound of the rolling thunder, of incoming gales, then Beth’s voice, anxious and annoyed.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we’re here. It’s okay. It’s a million miles from civilisation and there isn’t a shop anywhere in sight. And the wind up here, it bites. I might need to get a new coat ’cause I’m freezing my bloody bits off.’

  Conscious that the light outside was fading fast, Molly turned, flicked on a light switch, and then another. ‘Damn, there’s no electric.’ Moving up and down the hallway, she flicked at switches before turning back to the door. ‘Beth, you need to come in here, the lights are out, we’re gonna have to find the fuse box.’

  Allowing her hand to graze the staircase, she studied the carved oak and what looked to be a narrow cupboard door that was almost hidden in its frame. Pressing her fingers firmly against the wooden panel, she felt the door click, opened it to reveal a small but empty space, a place where coat hooks lined the back wall and a full-length mirror was fixed to the back of the door. The sight of her reflection made her scowl.

  ‘Urgh…!’ Molly lifted a hand, pulled her sunglasses off her head, flicked her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, and studied the shape of her body. The weight loss didn’t suit her, nor did the dark furrowed lines below her eyes. Startled by a cobweb brushing against her face, she jumped backwards. ‘Urgh, and you need to bugger off, too. Go find somewhere else to live.’

  ‘Oh, my God. What the hell did I do this time?’ Beth wailed, and Molly turned to see her sister standing in the doorway, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  ‘I wasn’t talking to you, silly. I was talking to the damn spiders. They all need to go,’ she said decisively.

  ‘That was Gran on the phone.’ Beth waved the phone round in the air. ‘Says she hasn’t seen us in forever, made me feel really guilty. I kind of promised we’d go over.’ She raised both eyebrows, gave a half smile. ‘Tomorrow, I said we’d go tomorrow.’

  Molly caught the smug way Beth crossed her arms and chose to ignore the comment. ‘I’m gonna bring the vacuum out of the car, get rid of those little suckers.’ She looked at the place where all the spiders in North Yorkshire seemed to have taken up residence. ‘Oh, and if we can’t find the fuse box, we really need to hope we packed some candles. Otherwise, it could get really dark up here tonight.’ She copied Beth’s earlier mannerism, gave her a cheery thumbs up. ‘We might even have to hide under the duvet with torches, pretend we’re camping.’

  Beth stepped back, placed a fist firmly on each hip. ‘I don’t wanna sleep here. Not while there’s over a hundred spiders running round the house.’ Inquisitively, she looked down the hallway, a slight smile of approval crossing her lips. ‘So, I vote that we either go to the Travelodge or back to Dan’s.’

  ‘How about we do neither?’ Molly chipped in.

  ‘Okay, how about we order a pizza and camp in front of the fire, but only if there’s electric and only if we get to suck the spiders up with the vacuum,’ Beth tried to negotiate, looked hopefully towards the living room. ‘There is a proper fire, right?’

  Molly ran her fingers along the dado rail that circumnavigated the hall and cringed at the line in the dust she created. ‘If there is, and provided we can find something to light it with, we’ll make a fire.’ She paused. ‘As for the pizza, I doubt the delivery guy would find us. You said it yourself, we’re “a million miles from civilisation”.’ She mimicked her sister’s voice, gave her a sarcastic smile.

  Sniffing at the air, Beth wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s that funny smell?’

  ‘How should I know? House hasn’t been lived in for ages.’ Molly raised her eyebrows, flicked her hair to one side. ‘I’m guessing the niece came and went, took what she wanted, including the damn carpet, maybe we got lucky and she cleaned a little on her way out.’ Molly tapped her foot on the bare floorboards, while trying to mentally calculate how much money she had left in the bank, when her next payday would be and whether or not she’d have enough left to buy a carpet.

  Pressing her hand against the kitchen door, Beth pushed it open. ‘Jesus, Moll, have you been in here? Kitchen’s sick, isn’t it?’

  Hearing the change in her sister’s voice, Molly followed. The doorway had opened to reveal a kitchen that was almost empty, but perfectly clean. The smell of bleach hit the back of her throat, and oddly a bucket of steaming hot water stood to one side of the room, a mop leaning against the wall beside it.

  To disperse the smell, Molly leaned over the sink, unlatched the window and pushed it open. The action caused a breeze to rush through the kitchen. A door slammed. The house shook, and Molly nervously spun around on full alert. ‘What the…?’ Instinctively she pushed Beth behind her. ‘What was that?’ With a pounding heart, she hurriedly grabbed at the mop, made her way to the utility door, stood perfectly still. Holding her breath, she allowed her hand to hover cautiously over the door handle. With her eyes fixed, she waited for the handle to move.

  ‘Moll. Please don’t.’ Beth took a step backwards, the colour slowly draining from her face. ‘Earlier, when I was by the car, I told you I heard something and you didn’t believe me, did you?’

  A shared glance was followed by a look of fear as flashing images of their mum flew through her mind… her unknown visitor… her subsequent murder… the pain they’d gone through. Trying to swallow, Molly’s mouth went dry. Her breathing slowed. The taste of bile rose dramatically in her throat.

  ‘Beth, it’s probably nothing, probably just the niece, she’ll have been cleaning, saying goodbye to the place. Now. You stay there and…’ She tried to sound convincing, felt her fingers tightly wind around the mop, as she looked around for a better weapon. Finally, she took a deliberate breath, pressed the door handle down and jumped backwards as a utility room was revealed. The back door was wide open.

  Swallowing hard, she watched it creak eerily back and forth in the breeze, a set of keys still hanging in the lock, their owners nowhere to be seen.

  3

  Recoiling, I quickly move into the shadows and hide in the undergrowth as I hear your voice yell out, your footsteps approach, and I hold my breath as a surge of euphoria builds in my chest. Holding my hand over my mouth, I try to hold back the laughter and fail miserably, as what started as a mere snigger bubbles up, until it erupts into an overwhelming, unrestrained laugh and I suddenly feel thankful for the storm, for the waves, the sound of which easily drowns out any noise I might make, make
s it easier to move around, to get closer to where you both stand.

  Half of me is fearful I’ll be seen, the other half wants you to notice me, and I try to think up a plan, a reason for being here and a million stories flash through my mind. Fidgeting with anticipation, my feet step back and forth in the mud and I wonder which story you’ll believe, and I quickly realise that the idea of stepping out of the shadows, revealing myself, excites my mind, especially when I know what I’ve just done.

  Looking towards the shed, I see the rolled-up carpet. It’s partially hidden down one side, a few logs and an old sheet of corrugated metal are balanced on top, along with an old spade I found in the shed. The irony of the find doesn’t go unnoticed, and I quickly realise how useful a tool it will be.

  Feeling a sense of power that I never want to lose, I continue to press my hand tightly over my mouth, and smirk as I see a pair of pale bare feet poking out from within the rolls of carpet. They’re the same feet that tried to kick me, the same feet that went limp as I squeezed the last breath from her body and I’d smiled, felt as though I were holding onto a balloon that had suddenly begun to deflate itself – right before my eyes.

  Then, without warning, my mood drops, anger takes the place of euphoria and I realise that it was an unnecessary death. She shouldn’t have been here. Shouldn’t have interfered. Today of all days I should have been here alone and allowed to search, to look for what I know he hid. But she wouldn’t let it go, wouldn’t give me the keys, didn’t believe I’d been sent to collect them and for that, she paid the price. I couldn’t risk her speaking to you, telling you I’d been here. And now, now I have the problem of hiding her body, of disposing of her, and I roll my eyes skyward to watch the rain and I wonder if I should have left her in there. In the house. Took my time to search and then, instead of cleaning the kitchen to cover my tracks, I should have burned the house down, with her in it.