Книга - The Ghost House
The Ghost House
Helen Phifer
‘A perfect story to read now the colder weather is drawing in’ - Book Reviews by ClaireDo you believe in ghost stories?‘I’m coming to find you, ready or not.’There's not much that scares Annie Graham. Not even the horrors she has witnessed during her years on the police force.When she agrees to look after her brother's farmhouse, she finds herself drawn to the crumbling old mansion in the woods nearby. But an innocent exploration of the empty ruin and the discovery of the diary of former resident Alice leaves her more than a little spooked. She knows it holds the secrets to a dark past, and she has to find out more.What was the terrible truth that Alice uncovered? And how could what happened to her over 100 years ago help solve the murders of young women in the town?Annie needs to stop the serial killer before she becomes his next victim – but the past comes back to haunt her in ways she could never have expected.A haunting crime thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat.Look out for more from Annie Graham1. The Ghost House2. The Secrets of the Shadows3. The Forgotten Cottage4. The Lake House5. The Girls in the WoodsWhat readers are saying about the Annie Graham series'an atmospheric, spooky read, ideal for the season.' – I Heart Reading'The Ghost House is the most exciting book I have read in a very long time, and would make an absolutely perfect Halloween read! Amazing début from Helen Phifer and I eagerly await more from her!' – Judging Covers‘It was an atmospheric, spooky read, ideal for the season.’ – I Heart Reading‘I was really impressed by this book. … I was amazed how the author got inside of the mind of the serial killer and really showed you his psychotic thought processes.’ – Edler Park Book Reviews‘the twists and turns are fascinating.’ – A J Book Review Club‘The story constantly kept me on the edge of my seat. The Ghost House is a magnificent read and it's perfect for those who have a strong stomach and nerves of steel!’ – Librarian Lavender
There’s not much that scares Annie Graham. Not even the horrors she has witnessed during her years on the police force.
When she agrees to look after her brother’s farmhouse, she finds herself drawn to the crumbling old mansion in the woods nearby. But an innocent exploration of the empty ruin and the discovery of the diary of former resident Alice leaves her more than a little spooked. She knows it holds the secrets to a dark past, and she has to find out more.
What was the terrible truth that Alice uncovered? And how could what happened to her over 100 years ago help solve the murders of young women in the town?
Annie needs to stop the serial killer before she becomes his next victim – but the past comes back to haunt her in ways she could never have expected.
The Ghost House
Helen Phifer
Copyright (#ulink_c11c1ac0-c57b-5d33-a3c7-3f0ed4db4781)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013
Copyright © Helen Phifer 2013
Helen Phifer asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2013 ISBN: 9781472018069
Version date: 2018-09-20
HELEN PHIFER has had a few jobs over the years: hairdresser, care assistant and cleaner. Not to mention a wife, mother of five and grandmother (although she still feels far too young to be the latter).
For the last six years she has worked full time for Cumbria Constabulary as a PCSO and loves her job – well, most of the time. She’ll let you into a little secret; she originally applied for her current job to help with her writing. She wanted to make it as realistic as she could and never imagined she would be accepted!
She has loved to read and write since she discovered Enid Blyton as a young child. In her teens she was hooked on Stephen King – she loves reading books which make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and he never lets her down.
She started writing in her twenties. In her thirties she got an idea for a crime/ghost story that wouldn’t go away. The fact that she couldn’t find enough of the stories she loved persuaded her to get hers down on paper and she is so glad that she did. She started this book eight years ago and it has been a labour of love but one of which she is very proud.
You can contact follow Helen on her blog at http://helenphifer.wordpress.com (http://helenphifer.wordpress.com), her website at www.helenphifer.co.uk (http://www.helenphifer.co.uk) and on Twitter, @helenphifer1.
This story is indeed a work of fiction and for anything I have got wrong regarding forensics or police it is entirely my doing and I have to admit I have used my creative license to sometimes bend the truth a little. I would also like to state for the record that this book was plotted and my first draft written before I even applied to work for Cumbria Constabulary and therefore any similarities between my characters and colleagues are entirely by coincidence. None of the characters are based on any of the police officers or staff that I work with. On the other hand, however, I’m open to suggestions for my next book!
I would like to say a huge thank you to the Romantic Novelists Association and their New Writers Scheme. To Jan Jones for setting up a meeting with my editor, the lovely Anna Baggaley. To Anna for taking a chance and believing in me. To the wonderful team at HQ Digital for everything. To the amazing Jayne Jakeman, who runs our local writing group and has spent so much time nurturing and showing me the error of my ways, and, of course, my amazing Roose Writers who are such a talented, supportive bunch: Joan, Cathy, Anne, Pip, Luke, Jaz and Eddie your turn next. And not forgetting Claire at Roose library for the support and supply of coffee. I would also like to thank my writing friend Bernadette O’Dwyer for all her wonderful support and, of course, my fellow blog members at TheWriteRomantics, you are all amazing.
A huge thank you goes to my friend John for allowing me to pick his brains concerning anything and everything. Caroline Kendall for being my very first reader and not telling me to find another hobby. My friends, colleagues and fellow PCSOs, especially Sam, Tracy, Tina and the late Cathy, who I miss so much, for their endless inspiration and laughter. Liz Gaskell for her graphic explanation of a post mortem. My brother Mark, his wife Christine and family for buying the most amazing house which inspired this book: I’m really sorry and I hope I haven’t put you off living there.
Last but not least my mam and dad for always being there, my husband Steve for his support and belief in me, and my children Jessica, Joshua, Jerusha, Jaimea and Jeorgia for putting up with the microwave meals and unwashed towels – your mum loves you – really xx
For my brother Chris and my best friend Cathy, two of the brightest stars in the sky.
Contents
Cover (#u38746178-2edd-5898-a4d4-87b2641c2f8a)
Blurb (#u4da96d9e-4b84-50ce-a57e-d6f4cbc8a148)
Title Page (#uee6a6128-0ef7-5d38-a65f-931321d44095)
Copyright (#ub444bfef-fe35-582f-9b5a-6322908f147a)
Author Bio (#ucede3684-96f9-55aa-bda7-997f2d903d16)
Acknowledgements (#uf8272ecf-fa56-540e-8e58-869ea77dd385)
Dedication (#u7ccc9d4c-0666-5343-8c26-d8b9673b7509)
Chapter 1 (#u839c494d-4f7a-5090-8ae0-b3396b27fc12)
Chapter 2 (#u381c47de-5d9e-522b-aa64-d9bc6ac57cd9)
Chapter 3 (#u6ae0a1d7-ce56-5ba6-8a95-2242158f8e7f)
Chapter 4 (#ua9a38b37-ca1b-5d23-b645-78647fc6bc36)
Chapter 5 (#ue3b9d4ef-0655-5e49-a165-2fbb9d257f35)
Chapter 6 (#u95a56b03-dabf-558b-bbae-df2582444bbf)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_fb39efb7-5e31-5061-9e0b-bd65975eb664)
Annie Graham studied the selection of keys on the rusty hook behind the kitchen door, looking for the one to the crumbling, Victorian mansion. Recognising the white, plastic key ring she plucked it off the hook and pushed it into the bottom of her pocket. Earlier she had filled her rucksack with a torch, some rope, a bottle of water, a bag of Quavers and a bar of chocolate: all the things a girl couldn’t live without. She felt like Indiana Jones, about to go on an adventure.
Her training as a police officer made her less inclined to fear the things most of her friends would. Through work she had been in some really sticky situations. She just hoped the inside of the house wasn’t in as much of a state as her brother Ben had warned her about. Tess was whining to come but if she let her run loose and Tess got injured she’d be in big trouble or, in Jake’s words, ‘well and truly busted’.
She locked up then walked along the tiny overgrown path that skirted the outside of Ben’s farmhouse and led through the woods to the mansion, which was a couple of minutes away. Soon the tall chimneys were visible, peeking above the tops of the oak trees. She pushed through a small gap in the bushes, fighting with the brambles, to find herself standing in front of the mansion.
It was magnificent; the walls were built from the same deep red sandstone as the Abbey ruins just below the entrance to the woods. It was remarkable to think that someone could actually afford to build such a stunning home and then abandon it. It had lain empty with no one to care for it for decades. The current owner was an elderly woman who lived in New York. As far as Annie was aware the woman had never even been to look at the house, which had been left to her by the last owner, a distant relative. Maybe if she had she would have done something with it; the potential was endless. Then again, if it had been developed her brother wouldn’t have been able to afford to buy the farmhouse, which had a clause in the contract that whoever owned the farm had to be the caretaker of the big house. Ben was a builder so it was perfect for him. Annie loved the peace and tranquillity that being up here brought to her bruised mind.
All the downstairs windows were boarded up to stop the local teenagers from going inside and breaking their necks. The upstairs windows were, surprisingly, all intact. Hundreds of tiny panes of stained glass with the most intricate patterns of lead beading running through them. Annie didn’t envy whoever once had the job of keeping those clean; they were grimy now with over sixty years of dirt. The front door was an amazing work of art. Set into a Gothic arch the huge oak door had the biggest brass knocker she had seen. It was a scary goblin face with a mouth full of pointed teeth. Annie knew that if she had been a visitor to the house she would never have used that thing, it would probably clamp its teeth shut and swallow your hand whole.
Taking the key she pushed it into the lock and was relieved when it turned – at least Ben had sorted out one thing. Pushing the heavy door it let out a loud groan. Annie was apprehensive to go in alone. She heard Ben’s warning in the back of her mind but he was out of the country and she was housesitting so technically she was in charge. Her stomach was churning with nervous excitement at finally being able to explore the house. Stepping inside she shuddered; a mix of emotions overwhelmed her but the feeling that shocked her most was the warm surge of familiarity, which rushed through her veins. It was so strong that she wanted to shout, ‘I’m back, I’ve finally come home.’ But why? Why do I feel like this and who am I telling it to? The feeling of déjà vu confused her but she brushed it off as wishful thinking.
The house was amazing. The entrance hall was so large it alone could accommodate a party. The walls were covered in begrimed and dusty oak panelling, the air smelt damp and fusty, and Annie tried not to breathe through her nose because it was so overpowering. She tried to picture the house as it used to be and an image began to form in her mind of the house when it was a family home. Fearfully she pushed it away.
The house was dark and full of shadows so she decided to start at the top and work her way down. That way if the floors were as rotten as her brother believed and she fell through the ceiling she would have all day to try and contact someone to come and rescue her. As brave as she felt she didn’t want to be lying in a heap on the floor when what little light there was began to fade: that was far too scary.
Cautiously she walked across the floor to the staircase, which was a sweeping, grand statement; it didn’t seem too dangerous. Placing her hand on the ornately carved oak banister she tested the first step. It creaked loudly but held her weight. Placing both feet on it she bounced up and down to see if she would fall through: she didn’t. Taking one step at a time she reached the first floor and grinned because the stairs hadn’t collapsed on her. Why are the men in my life such drama queens? Treading carefully along the corridor she peered into the many rooms she passed; their doors were either wide open or missing. Each room was now an empty shell but she could picture exactly how they used to look with ornately carved beds covered in sumptuous, richly coloured throws. The wardrobes and drawers all matching, small bedside tables with heavy brass lamps and delicate pieces of cut glass on display along with pretty perfume bottles. The only thing left in them now was the beautiful marble mantelpieces and, in a couple of rooms, some discarded beer cans with faded logos – Annie didn’t think you could still buy those brands.
At the far end of the long hallway was the only closed door on the whole floor; Annie found herself drawn towards it. Standing outside she closed her eyes to try and picture what was on the other side but her mind was blank. Her fingers reached out, wrapping themselves around the dull brass knob. She pulled her hand back sharply. The metal was so freezing cold the tips of her fingers felt numb. Her mother’s voice spoke clearly in her mind, ‘Curiosity killed the cat. When will you ever learn?’ Annie, who had been at loggerheads with her mum since she could talk, whispered ‘never’ then gripped the knob and twisted it with all her strength until it gave a little and slowly turned. There was no sensible reason why she was so desperate to go in there but she knew she had to.
She was greeted by a schoolroom and gasped with pleasure to see two small, well-worn pine desks with matching chairs tucked neatly underneath them. A huge bookcase filled the back wall. It was laden with books and Annie, who loved to read, grinned with pleasure. The mantelpiece in this room was lined with a row of tin soldiers, all stood on guard ready for their next battle. Annie walked over and picked one up, murmuring with delight that they were real – it wasn’t her imagination. How had this room stayed intact when the rest of the house was an empty shell? Turning back to the desks she pulled out a chair and sat down, her fingers tracing the lines and grooves in the soft wood. Lifting the top to peer inside she smiled to see a dusty, old black leather book. Picking it up she blew away some of the dust.
From somewhere inside the house she became aware of the soft tinkling of a piano, the tune was vaguely familiar to her, comforting. She looked at the title of the book, which was written in elegant gold script: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. A man’s muffled voice called out; it was deep and sounded to Annie as if it was coming through a loudspeaker. A chill ran through her body. It sounded like someone she knew a long time ago but now couldn’t quite remember.
‘Alice, where are you? I want to come and play.’
Goosebumps broke out all over her arms; she knew she was the only person in the house.
‘Alice, I’m coming to find you ready or not.’
Whoever the voice belonged to wasn’t asking whomever Alice was to play the game, it was telling her she had no choice. Instinctively Annie looked around for somewhere to hide, her heart beating so hard she was afraid the steady thud of it would give her away. Then came footsteps climbing the stairs that were so loud they made the floor vibrate. Annie knew that it just wasn’t possible, but they kept on coming. Soon they would be on the landing and heading straight towards her. Standing quickly she whacked her thigh on the sharp corner of the desk and bit her tongue so as not to cry out, ‘I’m not ready, I don’t want to play with you, whoever you are.’ The footsteps got louder and she looked at the door, which had swung shut: there was nowhere to hide in this room.
The sudden silence was deafening. She knew that whomever had been calling out was now standing outside the door, listening. Annie backed away putting some distance between herself and the door, adrenalin making every sense in her body alert. She had been in the police force for five years and was a capable fighter. Her self-defence training and regular Saturday night brawls with drunks had turned her into a competent fighter, but what really scared her was the thought that whomever was standing on the other side of the door may not be the sort of person that she could grapple with. Do I believe in ghosts? Her body taut, feet automatically taking up a fighter’s stance she raised her fists, which were clenched so hard her knuckles had gone white.
There was no light seeping under the door, it was blocked out by the black shadow standing on the other side, and the little light that had been in the room had faded. Her stomach muscles tightened, she was as ready as she could be. A huge bang exploded directly above the house and she shrieked, her legs wobbled, threatening to give way. Annie whipped her head around the room: it was empty. No tin soldiers or books, no desks. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them: the room was empty just like the others. The door was now open just as she had left it and thankfully there was no crazy man standing on the other side waiting for her. But still an uneasy feeling of being watched settled over her. Forcing her feet to move she stepped forward and kicked something, she looked down to see a book on the floor. Too scared to read the title, although she had a pretty good idea what it was, she shoved it into her rucksack. Another crash of thunder echoed around the house making her shriek again.
Not caring any more about how safe the floors were she ran out onto the landing, along the hall to the staircase and took the stairs two at a time. Her heart beating so fast she was positive she was about to have a heart attack right there in the big old house with only the ghost waiting and watching for her to come and join him.
Annie, never big on church or religion, began to hum the first hymn that came into her mind, ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, over and over again. In a matter of seconds she had crossed the great hall and the front door loomed in front of her. For a fleeting moment she envisioned it not opening but with one almighty tug she was outside on the steps.
The smell of ozone filled the air. It hadn’t started to rain but the sky was now a blanket of dirty yellow and grey. Slamming the heavy door shut behind her she fumbled to pull the key from her pocket. Gripping it tightly she rammed it into the lock. As she turned it she hoped that whatever or whomever was in that house was now locked on the other side.
The last of the daylight had been obscured by the thunderclouds. Annie ran towards the tiny path as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. The trees shielded her from the worst of it but it was the last place anyone should be in a thunderstorm. As if to confirm this, another huge crack echoed around the woods. Turning she took one last look at the house as a flash of brilliant white lightning lit up the sky above it. Her eyes searched for the window of the room she had just been in. Locating it she took a sharp intake of breath. At the last window was a blurry white shape of a woman staring back at her.
Annie turned and ran back to the farmhouse as fast as her shaky legs could carry her. Reaching the clearing her shoulders relaxed a little at the sight of the gate. She scrambled over it and pushed her way into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her. She leant against it but her legs gave way and she slid, in one big, dripping heap, down to the floor. Tess growled from the safety of her dog basket then, realising it was Annie, quietened and watched her warily. Wow, Tess, what a guard dog you are. She began to take deep breaths to calm herself down then, when she felt able, she pulled herself up and went into the living room to watch the storm, which was still raging.
The lightning illuminating the woods was the most beautiful yet terrifying thing she had ever seen, and it was centred over the big house. Trudging up the stairs she went to the only bedroom that overlooked the mansion for a better view. It fascinated her that the lightning was striking directly over it.
Annie was scared; she didn’t want to be alone in the middle of the woods. What she would give to have her colleague and best friend Jake with her, his muscular arms wrapped around her. She couldn’t get a phone signal on a good day up here. In a storm she was totally cut off. Jake would laugh at her and tell her she had lost the plot big time and maybe he wouldn’t be that far wrong. He would be at work now, halfway through his shift, which is where she should be. At least then bad things happened to other people and not her.
Common sense told her the house wasn’t haunted; there was no such thing as ghosts. But the other explanation scared her even more: her head injury could be worse than the doctor had thought. Then she remembered the book and went back downstairs to check her bag. If it wasn’t there then she would go to the hospital tomorrow and tell them she was hallucinating.
Her bag was on the kitchen floor and for a moment Annie didn’t know whether she wanted to open it or not. Eventually she unzipped it and rummaged around inside her fingers caught the sharp corner of a leather bound book. Oh crap.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_0a728d94-fc84-54d5-a12b-6115a177fa03)
By the time Will arrived at Jenna White’s house the normally quiet street was thriving with people. Earlier, the arrival of Jake in the patrol car, after the call had come in for a missing teenager, had set a few curtains twitching. But now neighbours were standing in front gardens chatting away to each other and several people had remembered that they had left something in the boot of their cars and were trying to look inconspicuous, but failing miserably, as they loitered at the rear of their vehicles.
A reporter from the local paper parked opposite Will, who growled under his breath at him: he was a right pain in the backside. His speciality was making every copper he interviewed look like an idiot. Will was well aware that some of his colleagues didn’t really need much help in that department, but most of them came to work to help others – protect and serve the public and all that malarkey – so the papers should have been on their side. Will was just biding his time until the reporter stepped over the line and gave him a reason to arrest him, show him the hospitality of the custody suite and see how he liked bed and breakfast listening to the regulars: drunks wailing and being sick or drug addicts coming down from their highs.
A handful of youths, dressed as if they had starring roles in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, were hanging around by the gate of 9 Walton Path. Jake appeared at the front door and lifted his hand to wave at Will, who was out of his car and ducking inside the front garden before the reporter got the lens cap off his camera.
‘Glad to see you mate, the word has spread like wildfire: bloody Facebook. And by the look of that lot over there they have her down as being abducted by a transvestite alien,’ said Jake.
Will closed the front door behind him and followed Jake through to the kitchen. The house was neat and tidy and the sweet smell of vanilla filled the air from a reed diffuser on the hall table: it reminded him of his Nan’s home. She had lived in the next street along and, as the queen of baking, her house had always smelt like this. Will felt his heartstrings tug at the sight of the crumpled woman staring at him expectantly.
‘Mrs White, I’m Detective Sergeant Will Ashworth. I work in CID. Jake has told me about Jenna. You say she has never done anything like this before?’
‘Never. She has never run away from home before or stayed out and not told me where she was staying. We did fall out because of her constantly arguing with her sister and I told her she was grounded until next weekend, but where would she go with no money? Something has happened to her, I just know it has. As soon as Sarah told me Jenna hadn’t slept in her bed I knew then. She is such a kind girl she wouldn’t worry us like this.’
‘I need to ask you some questions and if you could give me as much information as you can it will help us search for Jenna and help Jake to fill out the missing persons report.’ Will glanced at Jake who had found something interesting to look at on his boots. ‘I know you told my colleague that Jenna hasn’t got a boyfriend as such but you know kids, they don’t always tell us adults what’s going on.’
‘She never mentions any particular boy. I know she has friends that are boys at college but they just hang around together.’
‘Does she have any favourite places she likes to go?’
‘The Abbey. She’s doing an art project for college and has loved it there since she was a kid.’ The woman sniffled into her handkerchief, then stood abruptly and left the room momentarily before returning with a glossy photograph, which she handed to Will.
He looked at the painted face staring back at him and passed it to Jake. He continued with his list of questions – ‘Does Jenna keep a diary? Does she have a computer?’ – to which Mrs White vigorously shook her head.
‘I don’t know about a diary, she may do because she was always writing things down. Her dad bought her a laptop for Christmas; it’s in the dining room.’
Will smiled. ‘That’s great. Would you mind if we took it away to get examined and see if there is anything on it that could give us a clue where Jenna may be? Is it OK for me and Jake to go and take a look around Jenna’s room?’
She whispered, ‘Help yourself,’ then stood and turned to go upstairs. Both Jake and Will followed her. She led them along the narrow landing to the last door, which had a picture of some movie star all the girls were crazy about stuck to it. Jake had no idea what he was called even though he’d watched the film a couple of times with Annie.
She opened the bedroom door and he stared at the assortment of posters on the wall, all were of the scariest people he had ever seen. They checked to make sure there was no sign of a struggle; nothing was out of place, there wasn’t even an overturned cup and there were no bloodstains. The room was neat and tidy, for a teenager, and there was a black sparkly purse on top of the dressing table. Will opened it: there was a five pound note and a debit card. It was obvious that nothing untoward had happened in here, that Jenna hadn’t been dragged from her bedroom fighting.
Walking out he nodded at Mrs White. ‘Thank you. We’ll go back to the station, see what we have and come up with a plan of action. I’ll be assigning you one of my family liaison officers, who will keep you up to date with our investigation and answer any questions you have. They will act as the go-between so you don’t have to worry about trying to get hold of anyone at the station. .’
Will nodded at Jake to follow him outside. He lowered his voice so the spectators couldn’t hear. ‘I hate to admit it but I think you’re right to be worried. I’m forty percent she’s shacked up with some boy or girl nursing off a hangover, but I’m sixty percent positive that something is wrong. It doesn’t feel right. She isn’t one of our usual missing persons, she isn’t known to us, and I did some checks on Intel before I came here and there is no trace on the system for any of them. Until today the Whites were just your average family. Can you get an update from whoever is checking addresses and see where they are up to? I’ll speak with the motley crew over there and see what they have to say.’
Jake smiled to himself as Will approached the crowd of Goths. Of all the jobs to get sent to today it had to be this one. He would bet a hundred quid that it wasn’t going to case closed in the next hour.. He hoped that Jenna would turn up soon, tail between her legs and apologetic, but his instinct was telling him that it wasn’t likely.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_2288821b-0c78-5e20-a4bc-1718ce30278b)
He had no idea what was wrong with him, one minute he was happy with his rather ordinary existence, the next he couldn’t bear it. The highlight of his life consisted of taking his elderly mother to the spiritualist church every Wednesday; where he would sit and listen to some phony pretend to pass on messages from the dead to the sad, desperate people sitting on the hard plastic chairs waiting for something that might mean it was their turn. His mother was just as bad. She held weekly séances for a couple of her friends and he was sure she made it up as she went along, but it gave him a couple of hours respite from her continual sniping at him.
It had been a month ago now that he had gone for a walk into town and spied the old tin box in the window of the junk shop. Melvyn, the owner, liked to call it an antique shop but more often than not it sold nothing but junk at extortionate prices. He had felt drawn to the box and before he knew it he’d gone into the shop and began to wander around. He hadn’t pointed out that he was interested in the box because then the price would go up by at least twenty quid so he’d browsed for ten minutes and made to go out of the door when he stopped and looked at the box. He leant into the window and carefully extracted it from the rest of the rubbish that was in there. Melvyn had gone to put the kettle on so it gave him a chance to take a quick peek.
It was once ornately painted with a golden pattern around it, now there was more rust than gold and it looked in such a poor state but he felt his heart beat a little faster when he held it. Melvyn was talking very loudly on the phone to someone so he opened the box to look inside: there were some very old, grainy black and white photographs and a couple of letters. He tucked it under his arm and walked to the back of the shop. Melvyn was deep in conversation, the phone tucked under his ear as he stirred the tea bag around his chipped Charles and Diana royal wedding mug.
‘How much do you want for this, Melvyn?’ He was trying his best to look not in the least bothered so as not to arouse his suspicions.
‘Fiver. It’s an antique you know, Victorian.’
‘A fiver? I only want it to keep some air rifle pellets in. I’ll give you four quid.’
Whoever was on the phone took Melvyn’s attention away and he nodded OK to him. He counted out four pound coins and put them on the counter. Melvyn nodded again then pocketed the money and turned back to pour the milk into his tea. He walked out of the shop with the box tucked under his arms and a big grin on his face: today was a good day for him. It wasn’t often he got one over on old Melvyn. He went home and put the tin away in his wardrobe; safe until he had time to look at it properly.
He had been sitting here politely listening to his mother carping on about Edith’s dead husband and thinking how fed up of his life he was. He was sick of being on his own and sick of his mother who was getting more irritating by the day. Then, out of nowhere, came the burning desire to kill someone. Inside, where he used to know nothing but calm, was now a violent torrent of bubbling horror. He didn’t want to just smack someone over the head with a hammer or maybe run them over. He wanted to take a woman into the old mansion in the woods and slit her throat from ear to ear. He wanted to watch the rich crimson tide of warm, sticky blood flow across the pale, milky skin of his victim. She must have the whitest skin so the blood would contrast vividly against it and then he would slice and dice until the monster inside him was satiated and he felt like himself again.
‘Are you listening to me? Edith wants a glass of water and judging by the look on your face you could do with one as well. What is the matter with you? Daydreaming like a fifteen-year-old boy! It doesn’t matter, I’ll get it myself’
He blinked and looked around at the bunch of wrinkly old women staring at him.
‘Sorry, Mother.’
She shook her head in disgust, and a vision of him slicing her throat into a permanent gaping smile made him jump up from the hard, dining chair he was sitting on and knock the small card table she used for the séance onto the laps of the two women.
‘Sorry, ladies.’
He left the room, brushing past his mother as she returned carrying a large glass of water. He bounded up the stairs and into his bedroom slamming his door shut; he then dragged the chair over and pushed it under the handle so the old bat couldn’t walk in on him. Turning on his computer he waited for Google to load. He was a natural at internet grooming – it was so easy to be the perfect person to whoever you were talking to, and he’d surprised himself by the ease with which he had taken to it. He had always been a planner since he was at school but he was also afraid of the black rage which had started to take over and knew that if the situation arose he may not be able to control it and it worried him. He logged into the dating site he had joined a month ago under a false name and typed ‘single women in Cumbria’ hitting the enter button hard. His tongue snaked from his mouth and he licked his top lip, as the pages began to load. He began to search for his next suitable victim to keep Jenna company in the cellar – he didn’t want her to be lonely down there. He paused on a picture of a girl with the palest complexion. A green circle below it showed that she was online and could be messaged.
He typed: ‘Would you like to visit a haunted house?’
Within seconds a reply flashed up on the screen: ‘Yes, I would. Do you know of one?’
Oh yes I do, who would have thought it could be so easy.
Will returned to the station. He needed to speak to the DI and organise a search. One of the address checks had come up with a confirmed last sighting of Jenna White. The girl who lived there sometimes gave Jenna a lift into college and had driven past her last night at approximately twenty past eight as she turned into the approach road to Abbey Wood. She hadn’t been seen since.
He pushed the numerical code on the keypad to open the door, hoping it was still the right one; they had a habit of changing it just as he would get used to it. He stopped off at the community office to speak to the sergeant and asked him for as many officers and police community support officers that he could spare so they could start searching the Abbey and doing the house to house enquiries at the few houses that were down there. It was a massive area and he was going to have to call in a few favours to get as many people as possible to help out. She could be lying injured somewhere. He hoped that she hadn’t strayed onto the railway tracks that ran behind the Abbey and been hit by a train. There had been a few locals who had met their untimely death due to a high speed Edinburgh-bound train passing through.
His head began to pound the same rhythm as his heart and he swallowed a couple of paracetamol before going up to the large room on the first floor, which was used to hold meetings and large scale briefings. This shift was going to be a long one, he just hoped by the end of it Jenna White was reunited with her family one way or another.
The thunder was easing off with just an occasional rumble in the distance. Annie sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in one hand and the other resting on the book. It had to be the book she had found inside the desk, but there was no way to explain how it got from the imaginary desk onto the floor. To say it was strange was a bit of an understatement. Pulling a tea towel off the back of a chair she rubbed at the thick layer of dust on the front cover. The book was bound in black leather which had softened and cracked with age, she expected the title to say Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland but instead it read Diary. She exhaled, unaware she had been holding her breath. Her hands trembling, she opened it and the read the inscription on the inside front cover: This is the private diary of Alice Hughes. A chill spread down the back of her neck: the man in the house had been shouting for Alice. The script was beautiful, elegant and Annie wished that she could write like that. For a moment she felt a twinge of guilt that she was about to read someone’s diary. How would she feel if it were the other way around? But it was obviously very old and she doubted very much that whomever it belonged to was still alive.
25
December 1886
My name is Alice Hughes, I am fifteen years old and work as a housemaid for Lord and Lady Heaton of Manor House, Abbey Wood, Barrow-in-Furness. I am very fortunate as I was given this journal as a gift from Lady Hannah who told me that, ‘To write is a precious gift that should be used if one has been fortunate enough to be blessed with it.’ It is thanks to Lady Hannah that I can write. She always gave me time away from my chores to sit in the schoolroom with Master Edward and learn whenever his tutor came to give him lessons. I did not like having to spend so much time in Edward’s company for he is so horrid and hurtful to me for no reason, but I do so love to read and write and I suppose I should be grateful that I have been given such opportunities to learn, even if it did mean that Edward would pull my hair, or pinch my arms when the teacher was not looking.
Today has been such a busy day. Lord Robert and Lady Hannah had guests for Christmas dinner and I had to help Cook prepare and serve the food. Both Millie, the kitchen maid, and James, the footman, are ill which meant I had to do all of my own chores as well as theirs. Master Edward was not best pleased when his mother gave me a gift and he scowled at me all day. I am thankful that his Lordship kept an eye on him today for I overheard Cook telling Albert the butler that Edward had got into another fight yesterday. Edward is always so angry. I often wonder why he is that way when everyone is so nice to him.
I overheard Lady Hannah telling the vicar that Edward will be moving to London soon and will be attending a medical school there for he is so clever and bright and well advanced in his studies. I pray every night that he will leave soon and then I will not have to hide from him when he wants to play his silly games. I am writing this by the light of the candle, all tucked up in my bed. I must go now in case he is prowling around and sees the light from underneath my door for he will tease me mercilessly. He is not allowed into the servant’s quarters but this does not stop him for he listens to no one.
30
December 1886
This morning I worked so hard I am exhausted. There is to be a party tomorrow night and Lady Hannah wants the house to sparkle from top to bottom. This is all very well but I feel as if I am the only one who is working, except of course for Cook who always works hard.
I do not understand why Edward dislikes me so. I wonder, if I were a boy would he still treat me the same way? A part of me thinks that he is jealous of me but why should that be so. He is rich and his parents love him dearly even though he acts like a spoilt, selfish brat and is so unhappy. He must be to carry on this way. I have nothing, why would he envy that? My mother died last year and I have no other family. I have been living in this house since I was nine years old. I was given plenty of tasks to complete despite my age but I did not mind for it passed the day.
I have been very fortunate that Lady Hannah likes me so otherwise I could have been sent to the workhouse when mother died. But she insisted I was to be kept on as a housemaid and paid a proper wage. I owe Lady Hannah so much I would never let her down in any way.
Today has been such a horrid day; I have never been so scared in all my life. Edward insisted I play a game of hide-and-seek with him. He told me if I did not he would tell his mother that I had stolen some of her jewellery. I would die of shame if Lady Hannah were to think me capable of such a thing for she is like my own mother to me. I had no choice even though I was scared and knew it would all end in tears. I tried to act brave even though I felt sick to the pit of my stomach.
He led me to the kitchen and stood outside the cellar door. He then ordered me to hide down in the dark, damp cellar. My knees began to tremble so much that I could barely take the first step down into the blackness. I looked around the brightly lit kitchen for Cook but she was nowhere to be seen. She was more than likely with her Ladyship discussing the menu for tomorrow night. Edward smiled at the look of fear on my face; he knew exactly what I was thinking. He knew that I wanted Cook to come in and save me from going down into the huge, dark cellar, which I so despise. I tried my best to put on a brave face for I did not want to show him how truly scared I was, because then he would tease me all the more.
I ran down the stairs into the blackness that waited for me at the bottom. I did not know which way to turn and bumped into something hard, hitting my shin and making me cry out in pain. My eyes began to water and I wanted to fall to the floor in a heap and wail. Now I have a big black bruise that hurts if I touch it. I could hear him laughing at the top of the stairs; finally he began to count. Edward must have heard me scrabbling around in the dark like a blind mouse. I had to keep biting my lip to stop myself from making a noise. I finally found a corner to crouch in and I tried to make myself as small as possible. My blood froze when he shouted, ‘Coming, ready or not.’ My heart was beating so loud I thought that it would give away my hiding place. My skin felt as if there were a thousand spiders crawling over it. I had to squeeze my eyes shut and I covered my ears with the palms of my hands, all the time waiting for him to jump out at me from the dark.
When I could no longer feel my feet I tried to straighten up; I do not know how long I had been waiting. I crept from my safe corner and felt my way around as my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. I knew in my heart he was waiting to scare me. I had lost all sense of direction in these vast rooms and did not know where the stairs were: I was lost. A strange noise came from somewhere not too far away and it was then that the tears began to fall as I brushed against something hard and cold. I cannot say if it was my imagination or not but I thought I heard a low, guttural growl and it was then that I started to scream.
Her Ladyship must have heard me because she sent Harold down into the cellar with a candle to light the way and find me. I was so relieved to see him I could not stop crying and I clung to him as he took my arm and led me to the steps and back upstairs to safety. When we reached the top I felt my legs sink from under me. Lady Hannah was standing there, her face a mask of concern. The kitchen had never looked so cosy and bright. Edward was sitting at the table eating warm gingerbread, the smell made my stomach rumble. He smirked at me from behind his mother’s back. Lady Hannah took my arm and led me upstairs to my room to lie down and rest. She told me Edward would be dealt with and as she turned to look at me I saw such sadness in her eyes. I cannot believe how someone so kind could give birth to such a monster.
5th January 1887
Today I watched with great relief as Edward left. Alfie whose correct title is junior footman but also a bit of a jack of all trades like me when it comes to helping around the house helped him to load his luggage onto the horse and trap. Cook told me his Lordship had warned Edward to leave me alone or he would not be allowed home. I did not dare this to be true, since he scared me out of my wits in the cellar he has not even spoken to me. Two days ago I saw him in the garden beating a rabbit with a stick, the poor thing was squealing at the top of its voice like a baby. It was horrid, I wanted to run outside to help the poor creature but I was too scared of Edward for I know he would like to beat me with a stick. I ran to find Harold who was polishing the silver. Cook told me that Harold then went to tell his Lordship who went outside himself to put a stop to Edward’s cruel torture but not before the rabbit was beaten to death and the frost which had turned the green grass white and crisp was turned blood red.
This house will be so much happier with him gone, I shall be able to carry out my chores without being afraid that Edward is spying on me and waiting to scare me. He has the devil inside of him I am sure of it. On my way to bed I overheard his Lordship arguing with Lady Hannah and I know it was about Edward. I shall mention it to Cook but I know she will tell me to mind my own business and keep quiet. I think tonight will be the first night in weeks that I will sleep well.
Annie was totally engrossed until a loud knock at the door brought her back to reality. She looked out of the window to see a familiar flash of luminous yellow. Someone was looking around the barns. She pulled on the pale blue woollen beanie hat she bought last year just in case it was someone she worked with and then opened the door.
Jake was standing there grinning at her. He stepped forward and picked her up, lifting her off the ground. How did he know where to find me? I never told anyone where I was staying. Annie squirmed and glanced at the man behind Jake. She recognised Will. He had not long passed his sergeant’s exam and just been promoted to detective sergeant in CID. He looked embarrassed by Jake’s behaviour. When he finally put her down she felt guilty for not telling him where she was staying.
‘So this is where you’ve been hiding from me. I leave messages on your voicemail because you never answer your phone. If I’m lucky I get a cryptic text message. Whatever happened to the art of conversation?’
Will looked at each of them.
‘Jake, I’m fine, I told you I needed some time to myself. I just want to be lazy and not have to worry about anyone except me.’ She felt the familiar flush as her cheeks began to burn at Will’s reaction.
Will was trying his best to place her; she looked familiar. She only reached chest height on Jake, wasn’t wearing any make up and was wearing a cute hat, even though she was inside the house, which puzzled him. He could hear Jake muttering and caught the shut-the-fuck-up-look on her face. He realised where he knew her from: she was one of the coppers in the community office who worked with Jake.
He coughed. ‘Sorry to break up your lovers’ tiff but we have work to do Jake.’
‘We are not having a lovers’ tiff, Jake is just overprotective and a pain.’
Jake threw his hands in the air in mock submission. ‘Well, I’m sorry, Annie, but you can’t be mad at me because I care. I’ve been so worried.’
She smiled and her whole face lit up. Will felt something inside his chest shift just a tiny bit. ‘No, I’m not mad but I have to get over this on my own, get myself together. You know how it is. He ruined my life for long enough.’
Will had to stop himself from giving the pair of them a round of applause. He felt as if he had stumbled into some bizarre scene from a soap opera. ‘Right then, now you’re both going to live happily ever after it’s time to talk business.’ He winked at Annie. ‘A nineteen-year-old girl was reported missing a couple of hours ago and the alarm bells are ringing; we are very concerned for her welfare. We have a last confirmed sighting of her heading towards the Abbey last night so here is the million dollar question.’
Annie finished it for him, ‘No, I’m sorry I haven’t seen or heard anything unusual.’ She opted to leave out the drama at the old house earlier.
‘Is it OK to check all the outbuildings just in case she’s hiding in one of them?’
Annie nodded, pulled her jacket from the back of the chair and followed them outside. Between the three of them they searched each barn in a matter of minutes.
‘Sorry but it looks like there’s nothing but junk in any of them.’ She shrugged her shoulders by way of apology.
‘Don’t worry. I think you would have noticed someone creeping around anyway.’
Jake strode over to join them. ‘What about the old house? It’s huge. She could be hiding out in there.’
Annie’s voice raised an octave, ‘No, she’s not in there.’
Jake arched his eyebrow. ‘And you would know this because?’
‘Because I was in there earlier and it was empty. My brother is the caretaker and I went to check it out. I don’t think anyone has been in there since 1982.’ She thought about the figure at the window but kept quiet.
Will picked up on her agitation and found himself intrigued: there was something she wasn’t telling them. He didn’t think for one minute that it had anything to do with their missing girl but something had put her on edge. ‘I’ll take your word for it but if we don’t find her we may have to search the place just to cover our backs.’
‘Well, let me know and I’ll take you in because it’s dangerous. I don’t know how she would have got in though because the downstairs windows are all boarded up.’ She ducked under a low beam but didn’t go low enough and her hat caught on a nail.
Will was horrified to see the angry red wound and line of staples that ran along the back of her head. Her hair had been shaved to allow the doctors to patch it all back together but dark stubble was beginning to poke through.
Jake not known for his tact gasped, ‘Jesus Christ, Annie, what a mess your head is. I’m surprised you haven’t got brain damage.’
Her face bright red, she grabbed the hat and pulled it down over her head then turned and walked briskly back towards the safety of the house. Once she reached the kitchen door she turned to face them. ‘If you need me give me a ring.’ With that she shut and bolted the kitchen door leaving them staring at each other.
‘What the fuck is the matter with you, Jake? Why did you have to say that?’
Jake shrugged and Will was pleased to see that for once he actually looked remorseful. ‘Ah you know me, Will, I don’t mean it. Before I can stop myself I’ve jumped straight in with my size twelve boots and the damage has been done.’
They walked in silence to the gate and Will couldn’t help but turn around to take one last look, he caught a glimpse of Annie watching them from one of the downstairs windows, she looked so scared and vulnerable and he wanted to go back and give her a hug, tell her everything was going to be all right. Bloody hell I’m going soft in my old age.
They walked back to the main path, which ran through the woods to meet up with some of the search team. Jake was subdued for a change and Will was thankful, his mind was working overtime wondering what had happened to Annie. But now was not the time or place because he needed to keep a clear head for Jenna White. On top of that he couldn’t ask Jake about Annie because he’d never hear the end of it. He supposed he could ask around the station where, no doubt, someone would be all too willing to fill him in on every gory detail, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to violate her privacy, he wanted to hear it from her and he wondered how he could approach her if he saw her again. And he did want to see her again. Very much.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_c7a5855e-7991-50d6-868b-1e6b6acecee0)
Annie wasn’t really angry with Jake. She was used to him opening his mouth and putting his foot in it. The number of scrapes at work she had got him out of was too many to count; it was because Will had been there she had felt humiliated. She only knew him well enough to say hello to in the corridor, up to now never having worked on any cases with him. The look of pity on his face had made her feel helpless.
She didn’t want sympathy from anyone. It was her own fault she had stayed with Mike all those years when she should have done what she told the countless victims of the domestic violence cases she dealt with through work: get out of there. But Mike could be so persuasive when he needed to be and a complete charmer. He would promise her he wouldn’t do it again and tell her that he loved her so much and every time she believed him until the last six months when she had started to crack. She felt like a complete idiot.
As she had watched Jake and Will walk away she had wanted to run after them and offer them some coffee. It would be nice to have some company, especially after this morning’s events. She knew all about Will’s reputation around the station as a womanizer. According to Jake, who had been friends with him since they joined, his type was tall, blonde, stick-thin, the look of a starving supermodel. So why was the way he looked at her playing on her mind?
Jake, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. When, fresh from training school, she had been assigned a tutor on her first day in the station and had been introduced to him she had to breathe deeply to calm herself down. He was tall, dark and drop dead gorgeous with muscles in all the right places. Every single job they went to the women practically threw themselves at him. He was always professional and never took them up on their offers of phone numbers or drinks and Annie had found herself developing a major crush on her tutor.
Jake took to Annie and became her protector, to which she had not the slightest objection. After one particularly harrowing day at work – they had delivered two death messages in a row and been the first on scene at a fatal car crash – he invited her to his house for a bottle of wine and a takeaway. Annie couldn’t have said no even if she had wanted to. Eager to have the chance to spend some time with him she had told Mike it was a girl’s night out. He had moaned the whole time she was getting ready to go and she knew there would be a price to pay for it later.
She arrived at the large Victorian semi in one of the nicest parts of town, which made her wonder exactly how he could afford it on his wages. Walking up the cobbled path bordered on either side by the most aromatic lavender and pink roses she had ever smelt it occurred to her just how much she would like to live here with Jake.
Angry male voices filtered through the open sash window and then the front door opened, and out stormed an even better looking man than Jake. He slammed the door behind him, jumped over the lavender to the drive and got into a brand new Mercedes. The door flew open and Jake stood there about to shout something when he spotted Annie standing there with a bottle of wine in one hand and her mouth wide open.
‘I hope you’re not drooling after that. Because he is one spoilt, selfish bastard.’
Embarrassed she shook her head. ‘Is that your brother?’
Jake had laughed. ‘Oh how I wish he was because then I could just punch him when he gets on my nerves. Come on, I’m starving. Get in here quick so I can order before he comes back.’
‘He’s coming back? Does he live here then?’
‘Actually it’s his house but we both pay the mortgage.’
She began to imagine how nice it would be to live in this lovely old house, which was decorated with a vintage shabby chic feel to it. It would be even better sharing it with two gorgeous men; she looked at Jake who was genuinely confused.
‘Erm, I hope you’re not fantasizing about what you would like to do with my boyfriend?’
Annie had wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Doing her best to look indifferent, she brushed it off. ‘Well, it did include the two of you; I wouldn’t leave you out, Jake.’
If Jake had been insulted he never let on.
Half an hour later the Greek God had turned up with two bottles of wine and a bunch of flowers. ‘These are for you. I’m Alex. I was so rude earlier and I’m very sorry but Jake can be such a tosser.’
Annie had accepted the flowers and smiled. ‘You know him as well as I do then.’ They had both laughed and Jake had tried to look insulted but failed miserably and joined in. That had been the start of a beautiful friendship.
When she was lying in casualty like a broken rag doll Jake had begged her to move in with them, but her pride had got the better of her and she had refused point blank. Although, if she didn’t have something sorted out by the time Ben and his family arrived back in the country, she might have to take him up on his offer.
Ben was visiting their mother, who had moved to France six years ago. Annie had been out twice to see her and it was twice too much: they just didn’t get on. Annie had never forgiven her for leaving her dad when they were young.
Annie had loved her dad so much. He had always been the one to tuck her in and read her bedtime stories and then one day she had come home from school and her mum and Ben had been waiting in the hall for her with two large suitcases and three black bin bags of toys. Annie had begged her mum to let her stay with her dad but she wouldn’t, insisting that Annie had to go with her. A black car had pulled up with a man driving she had never seen before, and her mum had loaded the cases, bags and then her children into a car with her and the mystery man and driven away.
Annie had never forgotten the look of hurt on her dad’s face. He died not long after that and Annie blamed her mum for breaking his heart. Ben on the other hand was the golden child, or so she had nicknamed him. He would laugh it off but Annie knew he was their mother’s favourite and it didn’t bother her, well, not now she was an adult. It had when she was a kid because Ben could just about do whatever he wanted yet whenever Annie asked it was always ‘no’.
She had been so desperate to escape her family home that when Mike had asked her to move in with him she didn’t even think about it. She packed her bags and that was it. And now look at how that had ended. She sat back down at the kitchen table to read some more of the diary, anything to take her mind off Jake and Will.
6
April 1887
Edward is coming home for the Easter holidays. The house has been so happy these last few months without him that I feel my stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of it. I have been able to practise my reading and writing in the schoolroom in solitude.
Lady Hannah came in one day when I was writing and told me that I was creating memories for the days when I am older and my memory may not serve me as well as it does now. I try to write every day but there is so much to do around this big house that I sometimes forget.
Today I feel as if a black cloud is descending upon me. I am so scared of Edward and what he may have been dreaming of to do to me whilst in London that I am finding it hard to concentrate on anything. I know that I am being foolish thinking this way and that Lady Hannah would not stand back and let him treat me so cruelly but she is not always around and his Lordship is far too busy with work to notice what goes on in this house. I will just have to do my best to keep out of his way and hope for the best. I would tell Alfie how I feel but I fear he would step in to defend me and then he would lose his position in the house and also his home and I do not want anyone to suffer because of me. I know that Alfie likes me a lot, more than just as a friend, because he stole a kiss from me two days ago out in the woodshed, when he was helping me carry wood in for the fire. I pretended to be angry and pushed him away but I was not really and I think he knows this because he grinned at me and winked.
8
April 1887
So far Edward has been very polite and courteous towards me. He has not hidden in any dark corners to jump out and scare me yet. I think that London is changing him for the best. There must be lots of young ladies he can be mean to in the city. He has taken to wearing smart suits with a clean pressed handkerchief tucked into his pocket. Alfie told me that Edward insists on a clean one every day and he had to go into town to purchase some more to make sure Edward did not run out on his visit home.
Today I had to clean out all the fire grates. His Lordship took Edward to the town hall to a meeting today leaving Alfie at a loose end. Harold told him he could help me. Alfie entertained me with tales of his family, which is huge: he has three sisters and two brothers. How I laughed when he told me of the mischief they all got into. He is very lucky, although he thought not and said he was so glad to escape from them when he got his job working here.
There was just mother and me until she died and she was always so busy we never got to spend much time together. I miss her so much and I often wonder what it would have been like not to have been an only child. I like Alfie very much. He is such a good friend to me. He has the palest blue eyes, which crinkle when he laughs, and a head full of wavy, blonde hair.
By the time we had cleaned the last grate we looked like a pair of chimney sweeps and Cook ordered us to get washed and changed before her Ladyship caught sight of the pair of us and screamed with fright. Alfie nudged me in the side and we dashed up the servants stairs up to our quarters. Edward must have come back early because he was stood loitering at the top of the stairs and he glared at Alfie who put his head down and excused himself. I continued walking up the stairs afraid that he would follow me but he didn’t. I have no idea why he would be waiting around on our cramped staircase when he has the grand staircase at the front of the house to go up and down on. I have a horrible feeling that he was spying on me but maybe I am just being foolish.
12
April 1887
The house was empty this evening. Lord and Lady Heaton have gone to a party and we have all been given the night off. Cook and Millie have gone to visit old Mrs Blackley, who is very poorly. She used to work here before her retirement. Harold has taken them in the horse and trap and then he is going to meet Alfie at the tavern for a while before picking them back up again.
Alfie asked me if I wanted to go but the tavern is not the most suitable place for a young lady. I would be frowned upon by all within if I set foot in there. Cook wanted me to go with her and Millie but I could not face another dying person so soon after my own mother. I told her I felt ill and wanted to retire early. I ran up the grand staircase to turn her Ladyship’s bed down and passed Edward on the first floor landing. He looked so dashing and handsome dressed in his best to go to the dance. He stared at me with his cold, black eyes but he carried on walking and I lowered my head. He ran along to the stairs and I found myself watching him through the balustrade, he looked up to where I was standing and fixed his cold eyes on me. My heart missed a beat and I was so scared because I remembered there was only me and him left in the house. He then lifted his hand to his lips and blew me a kiss. I was so horrified that I ran straight up to my room and shut the door, my cheeks burning bright with shame and, as much as I hate to admit it, I think I felt something other than hatred towards him because my stomach churned with butterflies at the thought of him blowing me a kiss.
It is my birthday tomorrow and I will be sixteen years old. I was nine when I first came to this house with my mother when she was offered the position of housekeeper. Tomorrow I will have no one to celebrate it with but it does not matter. I must remember I could be in a much worse place than Abbey Wood.
13
April 1887
I was awakened in the night by a stifled scream from outside my bedroom window. I got out of bed to look and see where it had come from. In the darkness I could make out two figures under the huge oak tree. I recognised Edward immediately. All the years I have spent hiding from him, I would know his silhouette anywhere. The other was a girl and I watched horrified as he pushed her to the ground, her petticoats and skirts tangled beneath her. I watched Edward lift his hand and strike her cruelly across the face and I whimpered out loud. He straddled her and turned to look directly up at my small attic bedroom window. I am positive he was smiling, as if he knew I was watching.
I should have run to awaken his Lordship. The girl was no longer struggling and lay still beneath him. Instead like a coward I ran to my bed and pulled the covers over my head. I was too afraid to move. I have heard about the things men and women get up to from Alfie so maybe Edward is in love with this girl. I tried not to remind myself that if you truly loved someone then you would not strike them. There were no more screams from outside and I stayed under my covers praying that Edward would not come looking for me.
In the morning there was no sign of Edward as breakfast was served and Alfie was sent up to his room with a tray. No one else said anything about what had happened last night so I kept quiet and made myself busy as far away from Edward’s room as possible. I could not stop thinking about the woman and what had happened to her but I did not dare to ask anyone. I hope that she is safe somewhere but I know she has come to great harm. I would not dare to speak this out loud for fear of upsetting Lady Hannah or causing Cook to gossip.
It was intriguing. The handwriting was hard to understand at times and as much as she wanted to keep reading, concentrating so much was giving Annie a headache. Rain trickled down the kitchen window and Tess looked at her and whined.
‘It’s miserable out there, Tess, but I don’t mind if you don’t, and we may still be able to catch up with Jake. Who’s a clever girl?’ Annie bent down and scratched behind Tess’s ears making her so excited that her tail began to thump against everything. Putting on one of the many waterproof jackets that were hanging on the coat rack and pulling on a pair of too big wellies, they set off into the woods.
She spotted flashes of dayglo yellow through the trees and headed in that direction, taking the path that skirted around the outside of the old house. She would never go back in there on her own; not after today. There was no rational explanation for what she had experienced earlier, but it had been so real.
It niggled at her that after all these years she had been the one to find Alice’s diary. Surely there have been plenty of people in and out of the house to have found it and picked it up. She tried to picture what Alice would have looked like and an image began to form in her mind of a pretty young woman in a maid’s uniform. This Edward sounded like he was made from the same stuff as most serial killers: cruelty to animals, no friends, cold and calculating. He probably murdered the girl under the tree. Annie shivered as she wondered if there was a grave in the woods containing the girl’s remains. She needed to go to the library and do some investigation to see if there were any records about the family and servants that lived in the house. It could all be a fake; someone could be setting her up. But then again, up until thirty minutes ago no one knew where she was staying.
Jake’s voice filtered through the trees and she headed towards it. It was typical of him to be so near to the house but at least she would have his huge muscles to protect her. She wondered briefly if Will was still around, although she knew from experience that CID usually left the dirty work to uniformed officers. They would breeze into a crime scene looking like the men in black, make a few phone calls then disappear again: she doubted he would still be here.
Anyway there was absolutely nothing he would see in her five foot six inch frame with a figure-not-to-die-for and a lifetime membership to Weight Watchers®. On the plus side, her eyes were a pretty green but she didn’t even have a full head of hair thanks to Mike. Her black curls had been shaved off. How she had cried when she saw them lying on the cubicle floor in the hospital.
Up to now she had managed to avoid thinking about that night but it all came rushing back to her. She had been late finishing because of a fight outside one of the nightclubs on Cornwallis Street. Two of her colleagues had been smacked in the face by a group of drunken chavs who had not only been drunk but high on plant food or whatever fashionable crap it was they were snorting. Finally booking off-duty, she had gone to the car park across the road to her car, which wouldn’t start. No money on her for a taxi she had gone back into the station to find someone who could give her a lift home. Kav, her sergeant, had offered to take her as he was on his way out to pick up some food; he could drop her off first.
As he had driven up the street the house was in darkness and she had hoped that Mike was either still in the pub or, even better, comatose on the sofa. He hated her working evenings but it infuriated him if she had to work late. It didn’t matter to him that she had no choice. If a job came in ten minutes before the end of your shift you couldn’t just stop what you were doing and go home like some other jobs. Most men would be proud to say their wife was a police officer but not him. For some reason he found it shameful.
She crept in through the kitchen door and closed it gently behind her. The kitchen light flickered into life and the familiar feeling of dread washed over her. She just wanted to crawl into bed but Mike was stood glaring at her.
‘Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to finish at ten and it’s nearly midnight. I heard you on the phone this morning making plans; did you really think you could just walk away like that?’
Annie recalled the phone call to Ben. She had been making plans but only to go and stay there to look after his animals while he was away. He had asked her again if she wanted a room permanently. This morning she had laughed off his offer, not sure what to say after he told her it was time she left the bully she was married to: ‘I see the look in your eyes, Annie, not to mention the bruises under those long sleeved tops you wear when it’s a hot day.’ Those words had been playing on her mind all day. He knew, her brother knew that Mike was hitting her.
Suddenly she found the strength to tell him she was leaving him. ‘Do you think I’ve been at the pub getting pissed or do you think I could have been working hard to earn the money for you to go and get pissed? We’re through Mike; I’ve had enough of you. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I could get enough of you. It’s over.’ She regretted the words instantly and knew what was about to happen was going to hurt.
His expression had gone from one of anger to rage. Striding towards her he drew back his fist and then slammed it hard into her stomach. Annie doubled over winded. He was a dirty fighter. Her eyes watered and she struggled to breathe but the feeling of indignity began to burn in her chest and the realisation that she would take no more hit her hard, forcing her to straighten up.
She curled her fingers into a fist and punched him square on the nose. The sound of the cartilage crunching beneath her knuckles had been the most deeply satisfying she had ever heard. The warmth of the blood which poured out added to the fire that was burning in her hand but she didn’t care, she could cope with that. For the first time in years she couldn’t stop grinning because she had given him a taste of his own medicine: it felt amazing. Turning to walk back out of the door and leave him, she grabbed the handle. Suddenly a whooshing sound cut through the air behind her and the empty champagne bottle that she had kept since their wedding day became the thing that ended their marriage for good. As it connected with the back of her skull, stopping her dead in her tracks, she collapsed onto the floor.
Annie wasn’t sure what happened then but Mike must have walked out of the door because he left her unconscious and bleeding all over her clean tiles. Kav had told her later that he’d got to the takeaway and noticed her handbag on the floor of the car. Knowing what women were like without them he’d turned around and driven back to drop it off for her. He’d strolled around to the back door because the kitchen light was on, the door ajar and the handle was covered in blood. He peered through the crack and had been shocked to see Annie’s lifeless figure lying on the floor.
The next thing she recalled was waking up to the smells and the sounds of the Accident and Emergency Department. There is nothing like twenty-six staples and multiple bruises to make you realise that your marriage is over: Annie wanted nothing more to do with Mike.
She thought about Ben and how he would be mortified if he knew what had happened. She remembered how he had asked her to dog-sit and made it seem as if she was helping him when really it was the complete opposite: he had been offering her a chance to escape, which was a good thing because now she needed it. There was no going back.
The worst thing about it all had been the fact that her secret was now public knowledge and the shame was burning inside of her chest adding to the pain and nausea she already felt. When she saw Jake heading towards her cubicle she had squeezed her eyes shut. He was followed in by the doctor.
‘She’s all right, Doc, isn’t she? I mean she’s not brain-damaged or anything?’
If Annie could have moved she would have squirmed. Jake watched far too much television. Next he would be asking if she was going to live, thankfully he hadn’t. She had lain there waiting for them all to leave her alone.
At some point Kav had joined the party because she heard his deep voice whisper to Jake, ‘I can’t believe she was married to such a bloody wanker.’ His boots squeaked on the highly polished floor as he stepped closer. ‘Annie, can you hear me? Don’t ignore me. We need to talk.’
She had whispered, ‘Yes, Sarge.’
‘You can drop the “Sarge” shit. How are you doing, kid?’ Jake was hovering in the background and Kav turned to him. ‘Can you go and find something useful to do, Jake? Mine’s a tea with two sugars.’
Annie knew Jake would be insulted but he turned to go and find somewhere to get a brew: he knew better than to argue with Kav.
When Jake was out of earshot Kav lowered his voice. ‘I need you to tell me exactly what happened. I won’t gossip like our friend Jake but I want to know everything from start to finish.’
She had smiled at him, which, in turn, made her wince with pain. ‘What is there to say. You know those women who stay with their partners even though they get battered senseless for no good reason, the ones we all berate saying how foolish they are and they’ll end up dead? Well, that’s me, the real Annie Graham is a stupid idiot who should know better.’ She watched as his huge fists clenched into tight balls.
‘I’m so sorry, Annie, I had no idea. I better get to be the arresting officer because I intend to treat him with the respect that he deserves.’
‘Thanks. I hope you do but I did manage to smack him one myself this time. I think I may have broken his nose.’
Kav laughed so loud the whole department turned to look their way. It was so inappropriate it made them both laugh even more.
‘That’s my girl. Now is there anyone you want me to contact for you?’
Annie declined his offer, not wanting anyone outside of work to know about what had happened. In fact, she would rather no one at work knew about it. Kav nodded and wrapped his hand gently around her left hand, which wasn’t swollen, and squeezed it.
Jake rounded the corner carrying two plastic cups filled with steaming liquid. ‘Bleeding hell I’m going to need that bed in a minute; I’ve got third-degree burns.’
Kav peered into the plastic cup. ‘What’s that shit? Don’t tell me it’s tea.’ He took it from Jake, blew into the cup then sipped. ‘I’ll let you off, Constable. It tastes better than it looks.’
Jake offered the other cup to Annie. ‘Hot chocolate?’
A passing nurse paused outside the cubicle then pulled the curtain to one side. ‘Sorry, pet, she’s nil by mouth until the consultant decides if he needs to operate on her hand.’
Both men looked at each other and Jake whispered, ‘I’m glad it’s not me you punched.’
A trio of doctors walked in and Kav stood up. ‘You know where I am if you need me or want anything.’ He stooped down and kissed the one spot on her forehead that wasn’t coated with dried blood. He turned to Jake. ‘Come on, let’s go and assist in the hunt for Barrow’s most wanted. He needs a lesson in extreme etiquette.’
Jake clapped like a big kid. ‘Now you’re talking, Sarge.’ He blew Annie a kiss. ‘I love you loads but I am not kissing you with all that dried blood and brain juice splattered all over.’
Kav’s hand shot through the curtain and dragged Jake out by the shoulder. Annie shut her eyes as the doctor picked up her hand to begin to examine it again.
An outbreak of obscenities shattered her daydream and she walked straight into Jake, who was rubbing his hand vigorously.
He looked at her. ‘These sodding nettles are everywhere. Oh look at you, Miss Nosey Parker, could you not take the suspense or are you just missing me already? I can’t believe it doesn’t freak you out living up here on your own. I’m scared and it’s daytime.’
‘Just remind me why you wanted to be a copper? Stop rubbing your hand and look for a dock leaf; it will take away the sting.’
‘I told you why: I wanted a pair of handcuffs and I can’t resist a man in a uniform. Look, I’m really sorry for embarrassing you before. I never meant to. It was such a shock seeing how bad the back of your head was. I had no idea.’ He hugged her and she squeezed him back. ‘Oh and I noticed the way you looked at Will. You were weighing him up, weren’t you? How many marks out of ten would you give him? I’d give him a seven, possibly an eight? The only person I’ve ever given more than an eight to was that special constable with the bleached blonde hair that joined last year. I was gutted he only lasted a month. Not that I’d ever cheat on Alex but it’s nice to have something other than a bunch of hairy, sweaty coppers to look at.’
‘You’re awful, Jake. I wasn’t weighing him up. Well, maybe a little. Anyway, I know he only fancies supermodel type girls and this, I’m afraid, is no supermodel.’
‘You’re wrong, Annie. Why do you have to be so down on yourself? If I wasn’t into muscular rich men I’d shag you, even though you do look really scary with half of your hair shaved off and that massive scar. I suppose it would be a bit like shagging the bride of Frankenstein.’
She choked. ‘Why thanks, Jake, that’s good to know. It makes me feel so much better.’
Will walked up behind them and Annie pulled away from Jake. Glaring at him then punched him in the arm.
‘Anything?’
‘There is nothing here apart from these nettles. No sign of anyone being around here, Will.’
Annie began walking away. ‘I’ll see you later. If you want a coffee or somewhere to take a breather you are more than welcome to come back to the house. I promise I’ll actually let you in this time.’
‘Thanks. I might have to take you up on that offer. I’m getting the shakes through a distinct lack of caffeine.’
Jake rolled his eyes at her and mouthed, ‘flirt’. Annie stuck her tongue out then turned and left them to it.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_78981354-edc8-535c-940d-208dd25e7233)
He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. He kept replaying it over and over in his head. Had he really taken her to the big house and slit her throat? It felt as if it was all a dream and he was finding it hard to distinguish between his fantasy life and his real one. How had he turned into a stone cold killer?
He rooted around in the bottom of his wardrobe until he found his backpack. Placing it on top of the bed he unzipped it, his hands slick with sweat he fumbled to get it open. There, in the bottom of the bag, was the scarf his mother had given him last Christmas, which added to the ten others he had in his wardrobe. He took it out and rolled it across the bed until the knife appeared and he inhaled sharply. The long thin blade was covered in flecks of dark brown, dried blood.
It was a very old knife and he knew that by the worn, cracked wooden handle. It was hard to imagine this knife ever being used for anything other than to cut and slice pure white skin with such delicacy. He poked around in the small zip pocket at the front of the bag and felt the gold rope chain between his fingers. He pulled it out and held it up to the light. He had tugged it from Jenna’s neck just before he sliced her throat open: his little piece of her.
He retrieved the tin box from the shelf and took out the photographs. They were mainly pictures of the servants but there was one photograph of Lord and Lady Heaton and their son Edward. It was this one that fascinated him so much; he was drawn towards Edward and had spent hours staring at him. He looked so aloof; there was quite a distance between him and his parents. There was something so compelling about him that he had begun to haunt his dreams.
That first time he had looked at the photographs he had recognised the huge house behind them and he knew he had to find out more about this man. He had spent a very enjoyable afternoon in the library going through the archives, researching the family, and all the time he had felt as if there was some bond between him and Edward, a bond that was growing stronger.
He knew that he had to find a way to open one of the doors to the house and go inside so he had gone there one wet, miserable morning when he knew there wouldn’t be so many dog walkers around. He walked the perimeter of the building trying every door and had felt like crying when they were all locked up tight. He then began to wonder if the owners had ever left a spare key like his mother did: she left hers under a plant pot. He began to check the area, any plant pots and planters had long gone but around the back, near to a small door, was an overgrown rockery. He had spent the next ten minutes sweating and lifting up stones and rocks and had gasped when he saw a rusty piece of metal almost buried under one of them, the very tip sticking out. He brushed away the woodlice, dug his fingers into the moist soil and pulled out a rusted old key. He didn’t dare breathe in case it was too good to be true.
Wiping the key along his trouser leg he walked over to the door and put it into the lock, the pleasure he felt when the key turned was indescribable. He was meant to be here. There was a reason he bought that tin box: he felt connected to Edward Heaton more than he ever felt connected to anyone in his entire life.
I’m sitting on an absolute fortune, some idiot would pay thousands for this knife. But he wouldn’t part with it now for anything or any amount of money because it was a part of him and he still had so much work to do, work that he knew had never been finished over a hundred years ago. He wrapped it back up and hid the bag at the back of the wardrobe, pulling a blanket on top of it because if his mother found it she would phone the police in seconds. That he was her son wouldn’t matter; there would be no loyalty. Then he kissed the gold chain and placed it into his tin box next to the picture of Edward and put it back on the shelf. He needed to play it cool for now, wait until all the fuss had died down. He knew it would take a while because missing girls were big news in this small town.
He sat down in his armchair and looked out of the bedroom window that faced onto the busy front street. He liked to watch the people going in and out of the newsagents across the road. There would be a steady flow of traffic until about seven o’clock and then it would slow to a trickle and become peaceful. If only they all knew that he was watching them and that, should he decide to do something about it, they would well and truly know. He felt invincible.
The young lad who had taken over running the shop for his grandad came out to put today’s flyers on the billboard for the evening paper. He stared at the headline: LOCAL TEENAGE GIRL MISSING. They could search all they wanted. He doubted very much that they would find her. Even if they searched the house that small room in the cellar had been hidden since the 1900s and no one knew of its existence except him.
The light was fading rapidly, the steady drizzle after the storm making the woods treacherous, so Will decided to call it a day. If the girl was here she was deep in the trees and bushes and it was too dangerous to send people in. The Abbey was surrounded by fields that went on for a couple of miles in each direction. There had been no dog handler available because there was a big drugs job on in Workington so, in other words, it was looking pretty hopeless for today. The area had no CCTV coverage except for one small camera on the corner of the house at the bottom of the track that led to the woods. Will doubted that it even worked; they never did when you really needed them to. He was frustrated. There were dead ends everywhere. Several roads led away from this area which made it possible to reach any number of villages or towns and most of them were within walking distance. Jenna White could be anywhere. He hoped she was safe and staying somewhere of her own free will, but his gut instinct told him different and he had a feeling it would be a corpse they would find, if they were that lucky.
He had liaised with the Chief Inspector a couple of hours ago. He had been reluctant to call in air support for a missing teenager who had walked away from her home address on her own two feet: the budget cuts were playing heavily on his mind. Will couldn’t blame him and his hunch wasn’t going to be enough to convince him otherwise, at least not before the dogs had made a thorough search of the area.
He walked the perimeter of the crumbling mansion one last time; double-checking there was no way anyone could have gained entry. He found himself standing on the top step before the front door and shivered at the brass doorknocker: it was the freakiest thing he had ever seen. He still wanted to check the inside. If he didn’t it would niggle away at him until he did and at least it gave him an excuse to go back and talk to Annie.
Will wandered towards Jake. ‘That’s it for today. I’m going to see Annie, ask if she can show me around the house.’
Jake wolf whistled and winked.
Will growled, ‘Get stuffed.’
‘See you later, Detective Sergeant. Enjoy your coffee.’
Will walked away annoyed with Jake: he could be so childish at times. The rest of the search team headed on down the path that would take them back to the cars parked at the entrance of the woods. But he took the path that forked to the left and led to the farmhouse. He knew they were eager to leave the woods before it got dark, he was himself but he wanted to see Annie again. She must be brave staying up here on her own; he doubted he would be able to.
He took out his phone and tried to ring the office to see if Laura had any updates for him. He had left her manning the phones and ringing around a list of Jenna’s friends who hadn’t been in when officers had called earlier. No signal: this place was a bloody nightmare. Following the narrow path that led to the farmhouse he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle: someone was watching him. He turned and stared into the trees but couldn’t see anyone. Why did he feel so unnerved? A loud bark echoed through the trees and a big black dog came tearing towards him.
‘Tess!’ The dog stopped in her tracks, turned and raced back to Annie, who was standing by the gate.
‘Hello again, I’m sorry to bother you but I need a favour.’
‘Where’s Jake?’
‘The big guy went back to the station because he’s too scared to be up here in the dark.’
Annie laughed. ‘He’s such a wimp. What can I do to help, Will?’
Will thought that Jake probably had the right idea because he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched: he didn’t like it. ‘You did say you have a key for the mansion, didn’t you?’
‘I do, would you like it?’
‘It’s just, I’m thinking we need to cover all our bases. I know there is no way she could get in but I need to check all the same and besides I’ve always wanted to go inside but it’s been boarded up as long as I can remember.’
‘Of course, but I really wouldn’t suggest going in there tonight. It’s a bit of a wreck and would be dangerous in the dark. Like I said, I didn’t see anything when I was in there earlier.’
Will shivered as the temperature dropped along with the rest of the daylight. ‘No, tomorrow is fine. What time is good for you?’
‘I’m up at the crack of dawn so come as soon as you start work. You’ll need some old clothes though, not fancy suits and Italian loafers.’
Will pretended to look hurt. ‘Are you disrespecting my Tesco designer suits and Matalan shoes? What’s wrong with this look?’
Annie giggled and he liked the way it transformed the mask of worry she had been wearing since he first saw her earlier.
‘Nothing. They are very nice but you wouldn’t want to ruin them, would you?’
He shrugged and turned to leave.
‘Would you like a coffee?’
He told her he would love one and she opened the gate. Tess, who had decided that Will was OK, was running around his legs almost tripping him up. ‘Is she being friendly or purposely trying to break my neck?’
‘Both. She’s a lovable pain in the arse.’
Will bent down to scratch behind her ears and she flopped down on her belly. ‘Oh I see, one of those, are you? One stroke and you are anybody’s?’
‘So is her owner.’
Will’s expression of mock horror soon put the colour back into Annie’s cheeks and she stuttered, ‘I’m not her owner. I meant my brother.’
‘Oh that’s disappointing I could have given you a really good scratch between your ears.’
Annie laughed. His sense of humour was making him more attractive by the minute: Mike had been so miserable all of the time. Will followed her into the kitchen. ‘Tea, coffee or, if you’ve finished for the day, would you like a glass of wine?’
‘After today the wine would go down very well but I best stick with the coffee. I still need to go back, update the missing person’s report and go over everything we have up to now, which isn’t very much.’
Annie busied herself making a pot of fresh coffee and hoped the disappointment didn’t show on her face. Of course he can’t drink wine on duty, you idiot. You of all people should know that. For a brief moment she had imagined the pair of them getting drunk. She would give anything not to be alone tonight.
‘I’d love to come up some other time though when I’m not working, if the offer is still open.’
‘Anytime you’re passing. If you’re passing. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying here but it’s at least the next two months.’
They drank their coffee and chatted about work and Jake. When Will stood up to leave it was completely dark outside.
‘Thanks, Annie, that was really nice. Do I turn left at the bottom of this path? I’ve never been up here in the dark and I don’t fancy getting lost. I’d never live it down.’
Annie wasn’t sure whether he was joking or if he was just as scared as Jake had been but was too manly to say. ‘I can drop you off at your car if you want. I need to go to shopping.’
‘That would be great, I’d really appreciate it.’
Will climbed into her Mini with far more grace than she would have credited him for. She drove along the narrow lane and had a near miss with a dog walker who was dressed all in dark clothes with nothing remotely reflective on him apart from the handle of the dog lead.
‘Bloody hell! Who in their right mind would want to walk a dog up here at this time of night?’
‘Oh you would be surprised. There are people up here all hours. It’s usually teenagers who come camping in the woods but there are also the die-hard dog walkers. That was a bit close though. I never saw his dog; I hope I haven’t already run it over.’
‘I think we’d have felt the bump in this car unless of course it was a Chihuahua.’
She stopped in front of the old wooden gates and Will offered to open them.
‘It’s OK but thank you, they are so awkward it’s taken me two years to get used to them. Are you always such a gentleman?’
‘Oh yes, you should see.’ He stopped mid-sentence and Annie grinned, he had no idea how much she would like to see.
Getting out of the car she fiddled with the padlock and opened the gates then got back in and drove the short distance along the road to the red Ford Focus: a typical unmarked police car. The only problem was that every criminal in Barrow knew they were police cars so they were technically useless.
‘Thanks Annie, it’s been a pleasure. I’m back in work at eight so by the time I’ve caught up on everything I should be here around nine. Unless Jenna turns up, but I’ll let you know if she does.’
She waved goodbye to him and sped off. As soon as she reached the main road her phone began buzzing: she had three missed calls and two text messages and she didn’t need to look closely to see that they were all from Jake wanting to know the gossip. There wasn’t any and she wondered to herself would she have liked it if there was, or was she being a fool? It was only ten days since Mike had almost killed her and she had walked out of their twelve-year marriage. She hadn’t loved him for at least the last five years of it and had spent more time hating him than she ever had loving him. Her head was telling her to keep well clear of Will but her stomach got butterflies whenever she thought of him.
He swore but the car had been going too fast to take much notice of him. It was a good job he had been swinging the dog lead around. After reading the headlines on the billboard he couldn’t settle. The taxi driver who lived next door had told his mother the Abbey was sealed off and there were search teams out there. He had been so careful, how could they know where to look? The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the old house, but he needed to make sure everything was all right. And who exactly was driving along this track in the dark when the gates at the bottom had been locked. He knew the owner of the farm was out of the country, a friend of his mother’s told her at the spiritualist church the other week. As far as he knew the police didn’t drive Mini Cooper convertibles either. Someone must be keeping an eye on the place.
He needed to check out the farm. It hadn’t even entered his head last night when he had led the girl up here to the house. Anyone could have seen him. He had thought he had every angle covered. This was an important lesson to learn: there are a million and one ways to fuck it all up. Still, no coppers had come knocking at his door and if they had found her body this place would still be swarming with them.
He followed the path that led to the farmhouse. A light was shining through the trees from a downstairs window. Maybe they were on a timer: you wouldn’t go abroad and leave every light on in the house. Walking closer he climbed over the gate in case it made a noise when it opened. Keeping close to the house he reached the room that was lit and peered through the glass. On the table were two mugs and a black dog was asleep in the corner. A woman’s handbag was on the chair: whoever it was must be coming back. He took a look around at the assortment of barns and outbuildings. He couldn’t just leave. Not until he knew who was staying here. A door was ajar on one of the barns so he walked over and pushed it open with the tip of his boot. The smell of hay filled his nostrils and he had to lift a hand to his face to stifle a sneeze. He pulled a bale of hay from the stack and dragged it over to the tiny window that had a slight crack across the grimy glass: it gave a perfect view of the courtyard and the kitchen door. If he was lucky they would use this as the main way to go in and out. He was confident that whoever it was would have no reason to come in here at this time of night and if they did he would say he was homeless and just dossing down for the night.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_6ea06f76-63cd-57f5-9e73-0a1db09941d9)
Tesco was empty. Annie managed to do her shopping with no interruptions, which made a change. One of the things she disliked about her job was that everyone who lived in the town centre knew her both in and out of uniform. More often than not when she was doing her grocery shopping she would get stopped and told tales about what the next door neighbour was up to or asked if she could do something about the smackheads over the road.
She filled the trolley with pizza, salad, pasta, chocolate and wine. She even picked up a packet of razors. Time to shave those legs. You just never know. She looked at her trolley, it was a lot different to shopping with Mike and she liked it.
On the stand near to the checkout was a single battered copy of the local paper. The front page had a picture of the missing girl staring back at her. Shivering, Annie hoped the poor girl wasn’t lying dead somewhere near to the farmhouse.
Her journey home was uneventful. She didn’t think twice about getting out of the car to unlock the gates. Usually she would feel a little scared because it was so lonely and dark at this time of night and there were far too many stories of ghostly monks who wandered the area. Tonight she was too busy thinking about Will. She should really phone Jake and discreetly try and find out if Will had said anything about her but he would second-guess what she was up to and then he’d tell Will: Jake could not keep his mouth shut.
She parked up and grabbed the bags of shopping from the boot of the car; the wine bottles clashed together. Unlatching the gate a feeling of being watched settled over her and she felt uneasy again. Ever since she had gone into the mansion it had been there hovering at the back of her mind. She had never experienced anything like it. Going into the kitchen she locked the door and dumped the shopping bags onto the table, her hands were trembling.
‘I’m cracking up, Tess, and turning into an alcoholic but you don’t mind, do you? It will be our little secret.’
She picked up the half full bottle of wine and her glass then went into the snug to watch the television: anything to keep her mind occupied. Something funny was what she needed. She searched through the channels until she found a repeat of Only Fools and Horses. There was nothing like the antics of Del Boy, Rodney and a box of blow-up dolls to put a smile on your face.
Her back to the window she didn’t see the black figure sneak from the barn and skulk into the woods. Tess growled in the kitchen, she knew someone was out there.
Will arrived back at the police station and this time it was full of people; completely different to this morning. Everything was the wrong way round today. Usually at this time of night it was quiet, a couple of officers and the odd PCSO around. Everyone else would be out on patrol, waiting for the endless jobs to come in. He often thought it was a shame how much the taxpayer didn’t know about the world of policing. Most calls to the police were absolute rubbish: reports of kids making a noise in the play park or for playing football in the street. It drove him nuts. The parade room was full; the nightshift officers hanging around for the nine o’clock briefing to begin. He walked on to the community office and looked in; nodding at the two PCSOs, Claire and Sally, who were in there,
‘Evening, ladies, anyone brewing up?’ He gave them his best smile and they grinned back.
‘We might be. What’s it worth?’
He racked his brain for some juicy gossip to offer in exchange for some coffee. ‘Oh I know, have you heard about the shenanigans on the G shift night out? Wouldn’t you like to know who ended up going back to a certain sergeant’s house for a spot of picking car keys out of a dish?’
Both women stood at the same time, walking towards the kettle.
‘Coffee nice and strong, and two sugars please.’ He left and walked briskly through the maze of corridors to his office, a big grin on his face. He had known they wouldn’t be able to resist. In less than five minutes they would be there, steaming mug of coffee and big smiles.
Will was tired. It had turned into a long day and as soon as he updated the duty inspector he was going home for a drink of something stronger than coffee. Right on cue the door opened and in they walked. Claire put the mug down on his desk.
‘Right, Will, spill the beans. We want to know every gory detail.’
He paused for effect. ‘Well, I got told by a very reliable source that Reece and Deana from custody went out and ended up going back to a custody sergeant – mention no names but Jack escapes my lips – house, with a certain blonde officer who has a lilting Scottish accent, for a foursome.’
‘Oh my god, are you having us on?’ Sally squealed before they both collapsed into a screaming fit of the giggles.
Claire turned to Sally who was laughing so hard she had to hold onto her side. ‘We really need to go on the next night out. Do you see what we’re missing?’
They both blew him a kiss then turned to leave.
‘Thanks for the coffee, girls.’
‘You’re welcome, darling. Thanks for the gossip.’ Claire winked at him as Sally dragged her out into the corridor. Their laughter echoed all down the corridor putting a smile on his face.
When the constabulary had announced it was taking on PCSOs it hadn’t gone down too well with many of the officers. They had been concerned they would take their jobs from them for lesser pay, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The first group that arrived from training up at headquarters had been like a breath of fresh air and Will thought they were amazing: he wouldn’t have a bad word said about them. They often helped above and beyond their call of duty, which is more than could be said for some officers.
He sipped his coffee and updated the missing persons report then, tired and hungry, he set off to find the duty inspector to give an update. Climbing the stairs he phoned the local Chinese and the girl who answered rhymed off his order of beef chow mein and salt and pepper chips without him saying any more than his name. At the moment the woman who owned the takeaway knew him better than any of his last three girlfriends. You sad bastard, Will Ashworth.
He thought about Annie and what it was about her that had affected him so much. He had never before given her a second glance but today she had looked so vulnerable and he had wanted so badly to hold her and tell her he’d protect her. Maybe it was time to start acting his age. Most of his mates from school were married, some twice. All of them had families and what did he have? An amazing talent for not being able to keep his dick in his pants and a gay best friend. He chuckled because if he didn’t he might just cry it was so pathetic.
Annie couldn’t settle. Tess was continually growling at someone or something that she couldn’t see and it was freaking her out. She stood up and pushed her face against the glass, peering out into the courtyard. But it was so dark she could only see the room behind her reflected in the glass and her own face, which she barely recognised. She looked so pale and there were big, black circles under her eyes, not to mention the world’s worst haircut. She blinked away the tears that welled and let out a sob. Stop it, Annie, your hair will grow back. You’re alive and you’re free. What more do you want?
She wanted for her to be in a different situation; in a fun-filled loving relationship. She had never really liked being on her own and had always been a homebody. When she was younger, clubbing wasn’t really her thing nor was dating. The thought of having to start over filled her with fear. Maybe I should buy some fake tan, get my nails done and see if the hairdresser can do anything with what is left of my hair. Have a bit of a pampering day and make an effort. Time to stop being a victim and become a survivor.
She refilled her wine glass, hoping it might calm her down and went into the kitchen to feed Tess,. She looked across at the table and the diary on it. Her phone began to ring and she didn’t move an inch for fear of losing the signal.
‘Well then, what did he want when he had you all to himself?’
She decided not to give Jake an ounce of satisfaction. ‘He was very nice and asked me to show him around the old house. There was nothing more.’ She didn’t tell him that Will was coming back in the morning. She thought about Will and his sandy blonde hair – so soft you could run your fingers through it – and his bright blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and what a smile: perfect white teeth. Then she thought about herself: short, twenty-six pounds over her ideal weight, her once luscious black hair shaved off to reveal a wound a cage fighter would be proud of. Yes, her and Will were such a match made in heaven that she laughed.
‘What’s so funny? You’re so mean keeping me in suspense. But to be brutally honest with you I was phoning up to give you some really good Uncle Jake advice.’
‘What would that be Uncle Jake?’
‘Don’t go there, with Will, I mean. You know what his reputation is like and I don’t want you getting hurt again so soon. He’s my mate and everything but I would never trust him with my sister or even my mother, come to that.’
‘Thanks for the advice. I’m going to bed so can you please stop bugging me. Give my love to Alex.’ She ended the call then picked up the diary. What about you, Alice? Did you ever fancy anyone out of your league?
A gentle breeze blew across the back of her neck making the hairs stand on end. If she didn’t know any better she would say someone was standing behind her. She felt her legs begin to quiver
Oh God, what is happening to me? Please leave me alone. Afraid to turn around she lifted her eyes until they were level with the window and glanced at her reflection. There was no one behind her. A whisper of cold air passed through her body making every nerve tingle and then it was gone: the room felt lighter and so did she. Annie tipped the rest of the wine into her glass and held it up in the air. Here’s to you, Alice, I don’t know what is going on or why I get the feeling that I’m involved but I think you were probably a very nice person and I hope that whatever it is you are trying to tell me brings you some comfort. She downed the wine and grimaced. What was going on? Was it all her imagination or had she encountered a ghost? She wished she had someone to talk to about it that wouldn’t section her. It was a shame all her friends were coppers.
31
October 1887
Edward returned from London yesterday. He is so much taller than I remember. I had finished my chores and was sitting near to the piano listening to Lady Hannah play a new piece of music she had learned especially for his coming home. Upon seeing me with his mother he stormed into the room and hugged her tight whilst pulling a face at me behind her back. I could not stop myself and stuck my tongue out at him like a sullen child. Realising my own insolence I stood up and hurried from the room, down to the kitchen, afraid to look back in case he was watching me. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. I asked Cook if she needed some help and she pointed to a sink full of potatoes. She asked me to peel them so I did. I know she is grateful for the help because she is forever moaning that Millie cannot cut the slack. One of these days I will ask her exactly what she means.
The whole time I spent with my sleeves pushed up to my elbows, peeling dirty potatoes, I could not stop my mind from thinking about Edward. As much as I dislike him I have to admit he is so very handsome. I stared at the reflection staring back at me from the window. I still look like a girl although Cook made me blush two days ago by telling me that I was finally beginning to develop my womanly assets.
Lady Hannah took me for a trip into town last week to buy some suitable undergarments and new clothes as I have grown out of everything that I own. We had such a fun time together and she was very kind to me, she even took me for lunch in the new hotel that opened last week. She told me that his Lordship was supposed to take her but he was so busy with work that he still had not got around to it, so it was to be our secret and I was not to mention it to any of the other servants because she did not want them to get upset or jealous. I swore to her I would tell no one and it was very nice being treated like a lady instead of a servant.
I love Lady Hannah dearly. She has even begun to teach me to play the piano. One evening last week after his Lordship had retired and she had drunk three glasses of sherry after dinner. She told me that she had longed for a daughter of her own but it was not to be. She then said I was like the daughter she had always wanted but had never been blessed with.
A loud scream pierced my daydreams. It was followed by a horrible thud. I ran behind Cook from the kitchen to the hall where the noise came from and was greeted by the most horrific sight I have ever seen. Lady Hannah was lying at the bottom of the grand staircase and there was a huge pool of blood seeping from the back of her head. Edward appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Mother,’ he shouted, and ran down them so fast I was afraid he would fall and land beside her.
Cook was crying into her apron. She ordered me to go and fetch Doctor Smith but I could not move. I felt as if my feet had been glued to the floor. I could not look away from the dark red blood that was staining the pretty white dress Lady Hannah was wearing; it was turning the soft silk crimson. Edward was bent over his mother sobbing.
‘Alice,’ screamed Cook.
I finally found my feet and ran as fast as I could. I turned to see Edward looking at me and I could have sworn that he was smiling that awful, wicked smile of his. I ran to find Alfie who saddled up the horse and trap and drove me through the bitter winter’s night to the doctor’s house. By the time we arrived back with the doctor, Edward and his Lordship had carried Lady Hannah to her bedroom. I will never forget the huge pool of blood that lay at the foot of the stairs: I had no idea a person could bleed so much.
Cook came downstairs and told me to get it cleaned up before his Lordship came back down and then everything went black. When I opened my eyes Edward was carrying me in his arms. He told me that he had caught me just before I hit the floor. He carried me into the nearest room, which was the library, where he gently laid me down onto the chaise lounge. I was scared to be so close to him but at the same time it felt nice to have his strong arms wrapped around me. I looked into his eyes and for once they did not seem so black, just sad. I asked him how her Ladyship was and he told me the doctor and his father were with her. He spoke in hushed tones, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation. He told me it was very serious. The doctor was worried because of the amount of blood she had lost and he said she had shattered a part of her skull. There was no way to move her to the hospital because it was far too dangerous with her head injury.
I began to sob uncontrollably and felt Edward’s hands begin to stroke my hair and dab at my eyes with his handkerchief; I was taken aback that he was comforting me. As I write this I have come to realise that it was the first time I have known him to be nice. I like this kind Edward and I liked the feel of his hands as they smoothed my hair even more.
He stood to go and see his mother and I did not want him to leave me on my own but he did and I carried on sobbing. I wanted to go and see her but I am too afraid of his Lordship. I stood on legs that wobbled and went to the door of the library. It was then that I heard his Lordship roar at the top of his voice. It was a dreadful sound full of pain and misery which echoed around the great hall. I looked up to see Cook running along the passage; the doctor walked down the stairs and shook his head at her. I knew then that Lady Hannah the beautiful, kind woman was dead – gone forever. I closed the door and stumbled back to the chair in a daze. Lying back down I cried until I fell asleep, where I would not have to face the awful truth.
I woke up in the dark. It was so cold. The fire I lit myself earlier had died down to a few glowing orange embers. The house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Shivering, I stood up to go to my bedroom. I slipped from the library and ran along the corridor to the servants’ stairs at the back of the house. I was too afraid to look into the hall in case I saw a vision of Lady Hannah crumpled and bleeding to death on the floor. I turned the corner and squealed to see Edward sat on the bottom step, he was holding something in his hands that looked like a knife but it was so dark I couldn’t be sure.
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- Жанр: Зарубежные детективы, Полицейские детективы, Современная зарубежная литература, Ужасы, Эзотерика / оккультизм
- Язык: Книги на английском языке
- Объём: 310 стр. 6 иллюстраций
- ISBN: 9781472018069
- Дата выхода книги: 16 мая 2019
- Версия: 📚 Электронная книга
‘A perfect story to read now the colder weather is drawing in’ – Book Reviews by ClaireDo you believe in ghost stories?‘I’m coming to find you, ready or not.’There's not much that scares Annie Graham. Not even the horrors she has witnessed during her years on the police force.When she agrees to look after her brother's farmhouse, she finds herself drawn to the crumbling old mansion in the woods nearby. But an innocent exploration of the empty ruin and the discovery of the diary of former resident Alice leaves her more than a little spooked. She knows it holds the secrets to a dark past, and she has to find out more.What was the terrible truth that Alice uncovered? And how could what happened to her over 100 years ago help solve the murders of young women in the town?Annie needs to stop the serial killer before she becomes his next victim – but the past comes back to haunt her in ways she could never have expected.A haunting crime thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat.Look out for more from Annie Graham1. The Ghost House2. The Secrets of the Shadows3. The Forgotten Cottage4. The Lake House5. The Girls in the WoodsWhat readers are saying about the Annie Graham series'an atmospheric, spooky read, ideal for the season.' – I Heart Reading'The Ghost House is the most exciting book I have read in a very long time, and would make an absolutely perfect Halloween read! Amazing début from Helen Phifer and I eagerly await more from her!' – Judging Covers‘It was an atmospheric, spooky read, ideal for the season.’ – I Heart Reading‘I was really impressed by this book. … I was amazed how the author got inside of the mind of the serial killer and really showed you his psychotic thought processes.’ – Edler Park Book Reviews‘the twists and turns are fascinating.’ – A J Book Review Club‘The story constantly kept me on the edge of my seat. The Ghost House is a magnificent read and it's perfect for those who have a strong stomach and nerves of steel!’ – Librarian Lavender
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