The Housemate

by Pattison C. L.

  I dabbed at my eyes with a paper napkin. ‘And how do you know all this?’

  ‘Because as Pete was mincing through Reception, trying desperately to salvage whatever was left of his dignity, the porter took a photo on his mobile phone and put it on Facebook, along with his account of how he’d found Pete half-naked. Within twenty-four hours, practically everyone on the hospital staff had seen it.’

  ‘What did Pete tell people had happened?’

  Megan leaned back in her chair. ‘I don’t know, but whatever it is, you can be sure it ain’t the truth.’

  ‘Will he face any sort of disciplinary action from the hospital authorities?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so, but yesterday I got an email from the Secretary of the Ethics Committee, informing me that Pete had resigned as Chair. I can’t help feeling the two incidents are connected . . . I mean, exposing yourself in a hospital corridor isn’t most people’s idea of ethical behaviour.’ Megan’s eyes glittered. ‘Believe me, it’s going to take Mr Chambers a very long time to live this down.’

  I had to give it to Megan – she always kept a cool head in a crisis; it was one of the things I admired most about her. ‘Well, it certainly sounds as if he got what he deserved,’ I told her. ‘Has he tried to contact you since then?’

  ‘No, and if he’s got any sense at all, he’s worked out exactly why I did it and he’ll stay out of my way.’

  She sipped her drink with a mischievous smile. ‘Anyway, I haven’t brought you here to moan about my disastrous love life. What about you, how are things at work?’

  ‘Nothing much has changed. I’m still tearing my hair out over the Neurosis set.’

  ‘What about the night terrors – have you had any lately? I know you don’t always remember the details, but you generally have some sort of awareness that they’ve occurred.’

  I hesitated; it was an uncomfortable subject to talk about, even with my best friend, but I trusted Megan implicitly and I knew I wouldn’t be doing myself any favours by lying to her. My fingers crept to the collar of my shirt. I undid the top two buttons, pulling the material apart to reveal a purplish bruise, just above my collarbone. Megan sucked air through her teeth when she saw it.

  ‘I did this the night before last,’ I said, wincing as I brushed my fingertips across the bruise. ‘I dreamed I was walking in the woods with my sister, when she was crushed by a falling tree. I knew she would die if I couldn’t get the tree off her.’ I paused and took a fierce gulp of my drink. The dream had felt so real; I could still remember the intense panic that had engulfed me when the tree fell. It had been paralysing, a hot white noise in my head that hindered any rational thought process – and yet, realising there was no one to save my sister but me, I had been spurred into action. ‘All of a sudden I felt this shooting pain and I woke up to find myself kneeling on the floor in the dark, using my right shoulder to push my bed against the wall – except of course it wasn’t going anywhere.’

  Megan’s mouth opened wide. ‘You thought you were trying to shift the tree off your sister.’

  I nodded. ‘What an idiot, eh?’

  ‘Don’t say that, Chloe,’ Megan chided me gently. ‘It was just your unconscious reacting to a perceived threat. All things considered, I think you got off pretty lightly; you could easily have dislocated your shoulder. I’d get some arnica cream on that bruise if I were you; it’ll help speed up the healing.’

  ‘Will do,’ I replied, buttoning my shirt. ‘There’s something else too . . . I’ve started sleepwalking again. I’ve twice woken up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, with no memory of how I got there.’

  Megan arched her eyebrows. ‘You can’t go on like this, Chloe; you’re going to end up really hurting yourself one of these days. I think it’s time you had a chat with your GP.’

  I sighed. ‘That’s what Sammi keeps telling me. She’s been so sweet since she found out about my night terrors. She knows I don’t have time to make personal calls at work, so she even offered to phone the surgery and make the appointment for me.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘She called a few times, but she said the line was constantly engaged. So then I tried my luck with the online booking system, but the next available appointment was three weeks away.’ I gave a feeble smile. ‘With any luck the night terrors will have died a death by then; I think I’m just going to try and ride it out.’

  Megan reached for my hands across the table. ’I hate to see you suffering like this. I just wish there was something I could do to help.’

  ‘You are helping – by organising tonight and forcing me to relax for a change.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Listen, Meg, some other weird stuff has been happening too.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘Things keep going missing from my bedroom. First it was a framed photo of my sister and me. One day it was sitting on my mantelpiece, the next day it was gone. I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s literally vanished into thin air. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it’s the truth. I didn’t touch that photo; not even to dust it.’ I realised that I was gabbling, the words falling over themselves like dominoes. I paused to catch my breath, while Megan regarded me patiently. ‘The next thing to go walkabout was my grandmother’s necklace.’

  ‘But you’re always so careful with that necklace; you can’t have lost it.’

  I felt a twinge of irritation. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Meg. I haven’t lost anything. I admit that I wasn’t sure about the necklace at first, but I’ve thought and thought and now I’m absolutely certain that I put it back in its box after the last time I wore it. But now it’s disappeared, just like the photo frame.’

  As I spoke, Megan’s face took on a doubtful look, as if she was analysing the situation and concluding that things don’t just disappear for no good reason.

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ I said. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m going mad.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course I don’t think you’re going mad,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just . . .’ Her voice tailed off.

  ‘Just what?’ I said impatiently.

  ‘Well, some strange things have been happening to me too.’

  I looked at her in amazement. ‘Your stuff’s been disappearing as well?’

  ‘Not disappearing,’ she said guardedly. ‘A couple of weeks ago, I came home from work and made something to eat; then I went upstairs for a shower. I distinctly remember taking my watch off and putting it on the bedside table, the way I always do. But when I came back from the bathroom, my watch was lying on the floor. It was over by the door, miles away from the bedside table; I only just avoided standing on it. There was no logical explanation for how it might have ended up there – but there was no harm done and so I didn’t think any more about it . . . until now.’

  I waved away the waiter who had come to take our food order. ‘Anything else?’ I asked.

  ‘Actually, yes. Do you remember when Tom came over the other day and you two cooked dinner with Sammi?’

  ‘Of course I do. You were at work that night and when you got back, you went straight upstairs without even saying hello.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Megan replied, looking slightly sheepish. ‘That was the day I discovered Pete was cheating on me with his own wife.’

  ‘Ah, no wonder you didn’t feel like joining in.’

  ‘Quite,’ she said with a grimace. ‘Anyway, when I got to my room, I found the window was wide open and all the paperwork that had been in my in-tray was scattered all over the floor. It wasn’t even windy that day; it didn’t make sense. I knew I hadn’t opened the window myself; I thought maybe you had.’

  I shook my head furiously. ‘Absolutely not. I’ve never gone into your room and opened the window, never.’ I chewed on my lip, trying to work out how the various events might be connected. ‘This can’t be just coincidence, can it?’

  ‘I don’t know. None of these things are very significant
by themselves, but when you put them all together . . .’ She gave me a tentative look. ‘I’m just wondering if it might have something to do with Sammi. I mean, she’s the only one with access to our rooms and she was definitely at home around the time my watch was moved.’

  I rubbed the side of my jaw. ‘But why would she do it? What’s in it for her?’

  ‘That necklace of yours must be worth hundreds.’

  ‘But the photo frame isn’t. And what about your watch? Why go to all the effort of moving it from one place to another? Why not just take it if the motivation is money? As for chucking your paperwork around and leaving the window open to make it look as if a rogue gust of wind is to blame . . . I just can’t see the point.’

  ‘No, you’re probably right.’ Megan gave a little chuckle. ‘To be honest, I think the most likely explanation is that we’re both getting a bit forgetful in our old age. I’m sure your necklace will turn up eventually. It’ll be somewhere where you least expect it, you’ll see.’

  ‘I hope so.’ I looked at Megan thoughtfully. She was a better judge of character than I was and I valued her opinion on people, as I valued her opinion on most things. ‘What do you make of her?’ I asked.

  ‘Sammi?’ she said, sticking out her bottom lip. ‘To be honest, I’ve always thought there was something slightly off about her; I just can’t put my finger on it.’

  My mind flashed back to the time that Sammi scalded herself in the kitchen and her peculiar behaviour in the immediate aftermath. ‘I like her, but she plays her cards very close to her chest,’ I conceded. ‘I’ve asked her some pretty basic questions about her family and where she grew up and she’s made it quite clear the subject is off limits.’

  ‘I’d love to know the real reason she quit her last flat share,’ Megan said. ‘She was certainly very cagey when we asked her about it.’

  ‘And don’t you think it’s odd that she’s never once brought any friends back to the house? She must have friends in the area; she’s lived in London for years – but I’ve never even seen pictures of them on her phone.’

  ‘Maybe you should ask to see the photo album she keeps under her bed.’

  ‘What photo album?’

  ‘I came across it by accident, the day she moved in. She was downstairs cooking dinner and I decided to have a quick look round her room.’ Megan raised her palms in the air. ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it; it was an invasion of privacy, plain and simple, but what can I say . . . I was curious. While I was in there, I spotted this bright orange photo album lying on the floor, sticking out from under the bed. I thought it might have fallen off the bookshelf, so I picked it up – and, being the nosey cow I am, I couldn’t resist checking out Sammi’s pictures. Except they weren’t just pictures, there was other stuff in there too – letters and old newspaper cuttings. I didn’t get a proper look at any of it, but it was stuff she definitely didn’t want me to see.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because she caught me in the act and practically wrenched the thing out of my hands. Then, when I tried to apologise, she got very tetchy. It was quite unnerving . . . I almost felt as if I was talking to a completely different person. She hasn’t mentioned it since, so I think she’s forgiven me, but ever since then I always feel really on edge whenever I’m around her.’ She broke off and pulled at her earlobe. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you; it’s about Tom.’

  ‘Oh?’ I said, feeling my heart spiral up into my throat.

  ‘Did you know he met up with Sammi at London Bridge yesterday?’

  ‘What?’ I said, thinking I must have misheard her.

  ‘It’s true. I saw them together on the station concourse when I was on my way to work. It wasn’t an accidental meeting, either; Tom was waiting for her outside Krispy Kreme. I followed them as far as St Thomas Street, but I don’t know where they went after that. I didn’t want to be late for work.’

  Suddenly I felt very hot. I could feel sweat clinging to the back of my neck, dampening my hair. ‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘There’s probably a perfectly innocent explanation,’ Meg said, offering me a reassuring smile. ‘They’re both freelance . . . I expect they just found themselves at a loose end and decided to meet for a quick coffee. I just thought I should mention it.’

  ‘You’re probably right. Tom does get on very well with Sammi.’ I absent-mindedly strummed the slender gold chain around my neck. I’d spoken to Tom on the phone yesterday morning and he’d made no mention of Sammi, or a coffee date.

  ‘Actually, Tom and I are going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment,’ I said, hating how the words felt in my mouth. ‘I’ve even been wondering if we should take a break, just until I’ve put the Neurosis set to bed.’

  ‘Wow, hon,’ Megan said, clearly confounded. ‘I had no idea you two were having difficulties. Are you sure a break is what you really want?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I want. In fact, I don’t seem to be very good at making any sort of decision these days.’ I held up my empty glass. ‘But one thing I do know is that I could murder another one of these.’

  28

  I’ve been at the library in the precinct the entire day. I bought an apple and a banana for my lunch, except the banana was all black and squishy when I peeled it, so I had to throw it away. Usually I spend Saturday afternoons with Anouk. I go to her house, or sometimes we play on the swings at the rec, but she said she was going shop-ping with her mum today, so I came to the library instead. I love it here. It’s warm and quiet and there are so many brilliant books to choose from. When I read, I go to a secret kingdom . . . through a hidden tunnel drilled beneath a castle wall to the furthest and darkest corners of my imagination. But I’m back in the real world now, and I’ve been sitting on this hard chair for so long that my bum’s gone numb.

  I check the time on the big clock that hangs above the large-print romances . . . two minutes past four. It will take me twenty minutes to walk to Anouk’s (ten if I get the bus) and surely they’ll be back from the shops by then. I have to be home by six, so that means I’ll have one hour and a bit with Anouk. It’s not as long as I’d like, but it’s better than nothing and it will keep me going until I can see her again at school on Monday.

  I love going to Anouk’s house. It’s so clean and the fridge is always full of food. There are big, fluffy towels in all the bathrooms and when I use the loo, I can’t resist burying my face in them because they smell so yummy. Anouk’s mum Lucy is the nicest lady I’ve ever met (except for Miss Pickering, of course). I haven’t met Anouk’s dad yet because he has a very important job and he’s always away on business, but I bet he’s nice too.

  Sometimes (quite a lot of times) I imagine what it would be like if I moved in to Anouk’s house. I might get Anouk to ask Lucy if it would be OK. I won’t do it just yet, because that would be weird, but maybe in a month or two. Before the half-term holidays would be perfect.

  Lucy answers the intercom straight away, almost as if she was expecting me. A second later, the electric gates open and when I get to the front door Lucy’s already there, waiting for me.

  ‘This is a nice surprise,’ she says with a big smile. ‘Did the birthday party finish early then? Anouk said I shouldn’t come to pick her up until five-thirty.’

  I’m confused. ‘What birthday party?’

  ‘I think Anouk said the girl’s name was Kayla; she lives in Cherry Tree Drive.’ Then Lucy’s face scrunches up; the penny’s just dropped and I know she’s embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry, darling; I hope I haven’t put my foot in it. I just assumed the whole class had been invited.’

  Kayla and I aren’t friends exactly, but we’re not enemies either. She didn’t used to speak to me at all, but she’s a lot friendlier since Anouk and I became best friends; most people are. I knew her birthday was coming up because she kept going on about the karaoke machine her parents were getting her, but she didn’t say anything about a party
– not to me, anyway.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I say, squeezing out a smile. ‘I was busy this afternoon anyway; I’ve been shopping with my mum.’

  ‘That sounds fun,’ Lucy says. ‘Did she get you anything nice?’

  ‘Er, some new shoes and . . . um, a jumper.’

  ‘Ooh, how lovely, you’ll have to wear them next time you come round. How did you get here, do you need a lift home?’

  I shake my head. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Well, OK then. I’ll tell Anouk you popped round.’

  Cherry Tree Drive isn’t on my way home, but I’ve got some time to kill, so I don’t mind going the long way round. The houses here are lovely – not as big as Anouk’s, but big enough. I don’t know which number Kayla lives at, but her house is easy enough to spot. It’s the one with balloons on the front door and the purple Happy Birthday banner. I can hear music and voices coming from round the back, so I think they must be in the garden.

  I walk towards the gate at the side of the house. It’s made of twisty black metal and there’s a piece of wood on the other side to stop people looking in. Luckily, there’s a narrow gap next to the hinge and if I put my face up against the gap and tilt my head just so, I can see a group of kids, sitting in a circle on the grass, playing pass-the-parcel. I reckon half the class is there, maybe more. Anouk stands out straight away. She’s wearing a dress the colour of a satsuma and her hair is torched into gold by the afternoon sun. Her beauty burns so bright that I almost want to put a pinhole in a paper plate and look at her through it, just like we did when Miss Pickering took us outside to watch the eclipse. Next to Anouk is Liam, with his arm in a plaster cast. Oh . . . my . . . God, I can’t believe it, Kayla even invited LIAM!!

  The music plays and the parcel goes round and round the circle. I watch as layer after layer comes off, until it eventually stops in the hands of the birthday girl (funny, that). Kayla tears off the last layer to reveal a shiny silver charm bracelet, holding it up so everyone can see just what a lucky girl she is. Then a woman appears and she’s carrying a huge pink and white birthday cake. My mouth starts watering straight away; I didn’t realise how hungry I was until now. The woman puts the cake down on the table next to the blanket and everybody jumps up, crowding round her as she lights the candles. They all look so happy, especially Anouk. She hasn’t learned yet that you can’t trust everyone you meet.