LeRoux Manor

by Liz Butcher

  Moving carefully, she slipped off the mattresses and manoeuvred toward the hallway, careful not to trip over her friends. Everything felt surreal and unfamiliar, and she decided she wanted to use her own bathroom rather than either of the two on the main floor. She scurried up the stairs but paused in front of her bathroom, recalling the broken glass there. For a moment, she debated whether to go and grab some shoes from her room, but she didn’t really want to go in there on her own.

  When she opened the bathroom door, she froze. The room was spotless, not a shard of glass to be seen. Even more confusing was the sight of the vanity mirror still intact and in its place above the vanity. Camille walked toward it, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. She had to touch it to make sure it was real, then stared at her stunned reflection. Her need to use the toilet vanished, and she dashed out into the hall to where they’d found the terrifying message scratched into the wall. That too was gone.

  Camille shook her head, backing away from the incomprehensible sight. A yelp escaped her when she knocked into something, and she whirled around to find Miss McAllister standing there. “What the hell are you doing?” Camille hissed. Miss McAllister said nothing. “Well?” Camille prompted. For the first time, she really didn’t care how haughty she sounded. The old woman glanced slowly at the blank wall, then returned her gaze to Camille. “Was it you? You got rid of the... evidence?” Camille sighed. “It doesn’t matter. We recorded it all anyway.”

  Miss McAllister’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a foolish girl, Mistress. Things could have worked out so differently, but you just wouldn’t listen. You’ve set into motion a terrible chain of events, and I’m afraid they cannot be broken now that it’s begun. I tried to warn you. I told you to leave well enough alone.” The woman turned on her heel and walked soundlessly away, leaving Camille staring after her.

  “HEY. DID YOU EVEN SLEEP?” Grace asked, sitting up as Camille walked back into the kitchen.

  “Some.” Camille offered a small smile. Jayne popped up in bed too, looking around with a frown before she saw the boys on floor and quickly tried to smooth down her bed-hair.

  Grace climbed off the mattress and stretched.

  Camille walked past her friends to the door and peered out the window. The sky was still grey and heavy with clouds, but they moved quickly now, and the rain had stopped. The wind stirring the thick branches of the forest beckoned her.

  “You’re thinking about going in there, aren’t you?” Grace asked. It was completely without judgment—just a simple fact.

  Camille nodded. Jayne flopped back onto the bed with a groan.

  “What’s going on?” Jonathan propped himself up and ran a hand through his messy mop of hair. Then he reached over and thumped Lachlan on the back. “Wake up, dude. Hey, did last night even happen, or was it all just one seriously messed-up dream?”

  “Definitely feels like a bad dream,” Grace muttered, then stifled a yawn. “Everything looks so normal this morning.”

  “So,” Jonathan said, attempting to untangle himself from his blanket, “what’s a guy gotta do to get some breakfast around here? I’m starving.”

  “Jon!” Grace snapped.

  Camille laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure we can find something.” She took one last look out the window before walking to the fridge.

  “Good morning,” Allysha said from the doorway, looking them over. “Dare I ask why you’re all camped out in my kitchen?”

  “Let’s just call it a social experiment.” Jonathan grinned.

  Allysha shook her head in amusement. “How did you all sleep?”

  Camille’s friends glanced at her in hesitation. “Uh, yeah. Okay,” Camille replied. “I mean, the storm was pretty full-on, but once that was over, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “Storm? I don’t remember hearing much of it. Then again, your father and I fell asleep in the sitting room! I think all this renovating has taken more out of us than we thought. Must’ve been around three a.m. when we finally went up to bed.”

  “I’m surprised you’re up so early, then,” replied Camille. She lay some fruit on the bench and started cutting it up.

  “Oddly enough, I feel like I slept for a whole day. Very well-rested. Maybe we need to fall asleep on that old lounge more often.” Allysha smiled at them before walking to the stove and turning it on. Camille and her friends chuckled awkwardly and eyed each other. Camille shrugged and gestured for them to sit at the four stools on the other side of the bench.

  “Uh, would you like a hand with anything?” Grace asked as she took her seat.

  “No, thanks. I’m feeling quite ravenous after such a good sleep. This’ll be a great Sunday breakfast. Bacon and eggs, and I’ll even throw in some pancakes. Camille, when you’re finished with that fruit, can you please organise some coffee? We’ll take everything into the dining room.”

  “Where’s Dad?” Camille asked, sneaking half a strawberry into her mouth.

  “He was feeling pretty energetic when we got up this morning. So he’s already outside taking stock of what he needs to get from the hardware store today. I’ll put a plate aside for him.”

  Camille was grateful for the silence as they sat around one end of the dining table, hungrily devouring their breakfast. She still tried to wrap her mind around everything that had happened the night before; the image of herself in the broken mirror still sent a chill down her spine when she thought of it.

  “Phillipe and I have to head into town a little later on,” Allysha said. “Does anyone need a lift home? Save your parents the trip out here?”

  “That’s okay,” Lachlan said. “Thanks, Mrs LeRoux. I drove up here, so I’m happy to drive everyone home.”

  “Please, call me Allysha. Don’t feel like you have to rush off. We still have all day! Do you have plans for this morning?”

  “Uh, yeah, actually.” Camille glanced at her friends. “We thought we might take a little walk through the woods at the back of the property.” Jayne was the only one avoiding her stare.

  “I don’t really like that idea very much,” Allysha said. “Though I appreciate the curiosity. I suppose you are in a group... Just promise me you will stay together and not venture too far in. I don’t want to have to send out a search party.” She smiled, and they all chuckled politely.

  “COME ON, GUYS,” JAYNE whined, bringing up the rear of their group as they moved across the property gardens toward the woods. “You can’t really tell me you all think this is a good idea.”

  “Aren’t you in the least bit curious?” Grace asked.

  “Curious, yes. Crazy, no.”

  Camille looked up at Lachlan to see him watching her, and they exchanged a small smile.

  “Well, you could have stayed back at the manor,” Jonathan teased with a wink.

  “Ha. You’re always so funny, Jonathan.” Even still, Jayne picked up the pace.

  “I know. It’s a gift.” He grabbed Grace’s hand.

  The smile stayed on Camille’s face, as she appreciated the normalcy of the banter. The morning air felt crisp and refreshing on her face, and she inhaled deeply. The grounds smelled amazing after the night’s storm, and she felt as though she could smell every flower, every leaf, and every blade of grass. Then a pang of longing struck her as she remembered the smell of the eucalyptus from the gum trees after the rain back home. Since they’d moved, this was the first time in days she’d felt homesick, though by now, she felt like she’d known her new friends all her life.

  As they walked through the last arrangement of shrubbery, she saw Mr McAllister standing in one of the garden beds, a shovel in one hand. He stared at her, his expression unreadable from where she walked, but it was all Camille could do not to shiver. Even as she looked away, she could still feel his eyes on her and her friends as they drew nearer to the woods.

  Once they reached the tree line, they stopped.

  “So, what do you think?” Camille said. “Just walk in a straight line for a bit, and if we don’t find anything,
we can just turn around and come back.”

  Lachlan chuckled. “Or I have a compass app on my phone, so we can have a bit of a wander and not get lost.”

  “Yeah, that’s also an excellent plan.” She smiled and stepped aside. “You should lead the way, then.”

  Lachlan didn’t need a second invitation; he grabbed his phone from his pocket and stepped across the tree line, pulling up the ap. Camille followed, with Jayne close behind her, who clearly didn’t want to let Lachlan out of her sight, and Grace and Jonathan brought up the rear. They walked on in silence for a while, and Camille felt hypnotised by the crunch of dead leaves underfoot.

  “Listen.” Lachlan paused.

  “What is it?” Camille asked.

  “Nothing.” He turned and looked at them.

  “I don’t get it,” Jonathan said.

  “There should be birds in here, at the very least. Especially this time of day.” Camille looked up at the canopy of trees in realisation.

  “What does that mean?” Jayne asked. “Or do I not want to know?”

  “I don’t know that it means anything,” Lachlan replied. “It just seems odd.” He turned and headed farther into the woods.

  The others followed, and all the peace and joy Camille had felt moments before dissipated, leaving her uneasy and anxious. She knew Lachlan was right, and it served to remind them of why they were actually here in the first place—to find out what the McAllister’s had gotten up to the night before. Then she felt dizzy, and the strange sensation appeared again; she felt both there and absent at the same time—almost like a memory or being somewhere else. She had trouble defining it and chalked that up to her sudden nerves about their expedition.

  “How much farther are we going to walk?” Jayne asked with a sigh.

  Lachlan shrugged. “Until we find something, I guess.” His voice was edged with annoyance, and Jayne refrained from questing further, choosing to look down at her feet instead.

  “Hey, stop!” Jonathan called out.

  “What?” Camille whirled around.

  “What’s that over there?” He pointed toward their left.

  “I don’t see anything,” Lachlan said. Camille stepped up beside him, trying to see.

  “On the ground. Between those two trees there that look like they’re leaning into each other.”

  Finally, Camille saw it—something red nestled amongst fallen leaves. “Let’s check it out!” She took off through the trees, Lachlan only a step behind her.

  “Be careful!” Grace called, but the others all followed.

  Camille reached the trees first and passed through them to the other side for a better look. Gasping, she clasped her hands to her mouth and quickly turned away. A second later, she heard Lachlan swear.

  “What? What is it?” Jonathan hurried toward them.

  “I have a feeling I don’t to want to know.” Jayne stopped a metre out from the trees.

  Grace touched her friend’s arm, then passed Jayne to satisfy her curiosity. “Oh, wow...” She took a step back and glanced at Jayne. “You were right to stay back.”

  “Why? What’s that red thing?”

  “Looks like we have ourselves a body...” Jonathan declared.

  “It’s been here for ages, by the looks of it,” Lachlan added.

  Camille took a deep breath, forcing herself to turn around. The body was really just a skeleton in clothes, propped up against a tree. Its legs were stretched out in front of it, and its arms hung by its sides. The red they had seen was the windbreaker over what looked to be a flannel shirt and jeans. One of the feet still wore a sneaker, the other bare. She knelt to get a closer look.

  “Don’t get too close,” Grace warned.

  “Why?” Jonathan frowned at his girlfriend. “It’s a skeleton. What’s it going to do?”

  “After what we’ve seen recently, I don’t think we can be too careful,” Lachlan said.

  Camille nodded; he had a point. Then she leaned closer, squinting at the odd shape on the skeleton’s forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”

  “What?” Lachlan stepped forward.

  “There’s a... symbol engraved in this guy’s forehead.” Nausea overwhelmed Camille, and she forced herself to her feet, trying to banish the image from her mind.

  “Woah, what?” Jonathan leaned in with Lachlan for a closer look.

  “Oh, that is messed up...” Now Grace looked as pale and shaky as Camille felt.

  “Do you think it was done before or after he was dead?” Jonathan asked.

  “I hope for his sake it was done after,” Camille replied.

  Lachlan crouched down so his head was almost at the same level as the skeleton. “Looks like it was cut fairly deeply too. Almost like it’s gone straight through the thickness of the skull.” He turned his head and squinted, as though trying to picture what this person would have seen when he died. “Unbelievable.”

  “You can say that again,” Jayne stated.

  “No. I mean, from down here, whoever this person was, the last thing they would have seen was the exact same symbol. Looking through this clearing and straight through. There’s a full view of the LeRoux weathervane.”

  “No way...” Camille crouched on the other side of the body, careful not to touch the skeleton. “Wow. The same symbol. What’s the point of that?”

  Lachlan shook his head, then gently patted down the skeleton.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Jonathan asked. Lachlan didn’t answer as he moved down to the jeans and, brushing away the leaves coating the skeleton’s lap, felt for the pockets. From the closest pocket, he pulled out a wallet.

  “You’re not going to rob the poor guy, are you?” Grace asked, mortified.

  “Hardly. I want to know who he is.” Lachlan opened the wallet and froze, staring at the driver’s license.

  “Lachlan?” Camille stood and walked toward him. The others closed in as well, and when she looked down at the open wallet and the unsmiling photo of the driver’s licence, she froze too. Her expression told the others all they needed to know.

  “Lachlan, I’m so sorry, man.” Jonathan stepped forward.

  The wallet fell from Lachlan’s hands. He stood, turned, and stormed deeper into the woods.

  “I’ll go after him,” Camille said, ignoring Jayne’s glare.

  “Wait. You’re not just going to leave us standing here with the body, are you?” Jayne asked.

  Camille was more concerned about the possibility of Lachlan getting lost. He moved quickly, and she could barely see him ahead as he weaved through the trees. “Lachlan,” she called. He didn’t slow down or turn around. “Lachlan, please!”

  This time, he stopped, but only before pacing between he trees, his hands clasped behind his head.

  “I am so sorry you had to see your uncle like that. I truly am. But we can’t go running off into the woods, either.”

  He lowered his hands, pressed one of them over his eyes, and turned away from her, his shoulders trembling. Camille slowly walked toward him and gently touched his back, not knowing what to say but wanting him to know she was there for him. They stood like that for a moment before he turned and pulled her toward him into an embrace. His lips gently touched hers. Camille felt everything melt away as she gave herself up to the kiss.

  When he released her, she felt like they had both stood there for ages; at the same time, the moment had passed all too quickly. Her heart skipped as he looked into her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered, not knowing what else to say without sounding ridiculous. He nodded and pulled her against him again for another hug. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, resting her head against his chest.

  “I just need a minute before we go back to the others. But I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I.” She meant it.

  “We’re going to have to tell your parents what we found.”

  “I know. Will you call your parents?”

  Lachlan sighed
. “I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s better coming from me rather than the police. I just wish there was some way for us to figure out what happened to him. And that symbol on his skull. How messed up is that?”

  Camille only nodded, guilt clutching her heart. She knew she wasn’t responsible, but at the same time, this was her family’s home now, and his uncle had died on their property.

  “We’ll find out what happened to him. Who did that to him. I promise.” She gazed up at him, and he kissed her on the forehead. Camille offered a small smile, aware that it wasn’t the appropriate time to show how happy she was despite how the awful circumstances. She rested her head against his chest again, not wanting the moment between them to end. Then she saw something through the trees. “What’s that?” She pulled away and headed through the trees. She heard him following her, and after a few metres, they stepped into a tiny clearing.

  In the middle stood a single gravestone mostly buried under leaves and branches. She could just make out the top of it and walked closer for a better look.

  “Wait...” Lachlan cautioned.

  “It’s just a tombstone.” She looked over her shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, though the wave of nausea grew within her the closer she approached.

  “Look. The symbol’s there too.” Lachlan pointed to the top of the gravestone.

  Camille nodded, struggling against the urge to be sick. She stepped closer and gripped the top of the tombstone as the cloying dizziness took over again.

  “Are you okay?” Lachlan reached out to her in concern.

  Camille couldn’t answer as she pulled herself around the tombstone and fell to her knees, vomiting violently across the dead leaves. Her chest and stomach heaved, fighting back the panic threatening to take hold of her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Releasing the tombstone, she braced her hands against the forest floor, trying to take slow, deep breaths. Finally, the nausea faded.

  “Camille, are you okay?” Lachlan frowned at her in concern. “What can I do?”

  She discreetly wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket and stood. “Nothing. I’ll be okay. I don’t know where that came from.”