Beneath the Shadows (22 page)

‘He loved the
idea
of a party,' Liza said with a smile, ‘but let's face it, often by this time he'd be exactly like Jack …'

They all looked across. Feathery Jack was slumped in an armchair, his head lolling forward over his chest as his body rose and fell rhythmically.

‘Not on New Year's,' Meredith said. ‘That was different.'

Grace turned with the others towards Meredith, who had hovered between the kitchen and the dining room all night. She had kept on the outskirts of the conversation, and yet the girls hadn't noticed. They treated this place as though it belonged to them, and their mother like she was part of the furniture. But Grace had the feeling that Meredith was the glue that held them all invisibly together.

Grace felt a rush of sympathy as the older woman stooped to collect some empty glasses. She got up and went across, determined to make an effort.

‘Can I help you with anything?'

Meredith abruptly straightened. It was as though she
had been lost in her own world and Grace was interrupting her. Lamplight bounced off her eyes and made them appear moist, but perhaps it was just a trick of light – after she moved, all Grace could see on Meredith's face was the emotionless expression she was used to.

‘I'm fine, Grace,' she said, ‘but thank you for asking.'

‘Mum … Grace …' came Veronica's voice from across the room. ‘Steve's going to do first footing. No reason why we can't keep up Dad's tradition. Dad always made a big deal about it,' she explained to Grace. ‘We had to go outside before twelve, and then follow him back in after midnight.' She glanced at her watch. ‘In fact, we'd better get on with it.' She got to her feet and whipped a whisky bottle from the table in the corner, then picked a lump of coal out of the fireplace. ‘Mum, what else do we need?'

‘I'll get the rest,' Meredith said, and left the room. Veronica surveyed them all sitting there. ‘Come on, everyone.'

‘What's all this about?' Grace asked Liza as they began to haul themselves up.

‘First footing is meant to bring luck to the house. A tall dark man has to enter first after New Year, and bring gifts – whisky for good cheer, coal for warmth, bread for food, salt for flavour, and a coin for prosperity. Mum and Dad did it every year.'

As they made their way towards the door, Claire asked, ‘What about Jack?'

‘Leave him,' Veronica said. ‘He won't even notice.'

They filed down the corridor towards the front door and Grace followed them. Outside, Veronica gave Steve the whisky bottle and the coal, and Meredith gave him a loaf of
bread and a pot of salt. She looked at the others. ‘We still need a coin.'

Dan held out a coin, his stance, hand on hip, clearly indicating his contempt for the proceedings. Steve juggled the other items in his arms to receive it. Then they gathered around, and Claire looked at her watch and counted down the seconds.

‘Three … two … one … Happy New Year, everyone!'

Grace had expected lots of hugging and kissing, as would have happened in her family, but instead, after a few choruses of ‘Happy New Year', Dan piped up, ‘All right then, back inside – hurry up, Steve, it's bloody freezing.'

Steve walked towards the front door, twisted the handle and pushed, but nothing happened.

‘It's locked,' he said. He put the items in his arms on the ground, and tried it again, first with one hand and then with both, rattling it.

‘Let me see.' Meredith sounded annoyed. She shook the handle, but it didn't budge.

Grace began to shiver. Please get the bloody door open, she prayed.

Then she heard a long, piercing scream.

At first she thought it was one of Jack's screeching owls, but as it came again, she registered the familiar pitch of it.

‘That's Millie,' she shouted, charging towards the door. ‘Get the bloody door open NOW!'

Grace barged in front of Meredith, grasped the door handle and shook it hard, but it wouldn't budge. She looked at it in a panic, mind and heart galloping together.

A hand grasped her arm and she instinctively shook it off. ‘Grace,' Claire shouted, ‘this way, come on.'

They charged along the side of the house to the back, flinging the door open. Grace raced through the dimly lit kitchen, into the corridor towards the lounge. When she reached the room, she paused in horror.

In the muted light, a shadowy figure stooped over Millie's pushchair. As he straightened, Grace saw that it was Feathery Jack, and he held Millie in his arms. Millie's small face was panic-stricken. Grace rushed across and snatched her daughter.

‘What the hell is going on?' she demanded, fright becoming fury in an instant.

Jack appeared confused as he looked from Grace to Claire. ‘Ah heard the bairn skrikin',' he said.

Millie began to cry hysterically and Grace tried to shush her. She whirled around, her only aim to get away from this house, but her escape route was blocked by a crowd of worried faces.

‘What happened?' Veronica was asking.

‘She must have had a nightmare or something,' Claire said.

Grace could feel all their eyes fixed on her, burning into her, bringing her close to screaming herself.

‘Poor little mite,' Liza murmured. ‘Will she be all right, Grace?'

‘She'll be fine,' Grace replied through clenched teeth, ‘but I think I'll take her home.'

She walked across to try to put Millie back in the pushchair, but Millie clung tight and sobbed harder. Grace attempted to soothe her, rocking her gently back and forth.

‘Bit of a bad omen, that, isn't it, us all sprinting round the back,' Dan commented. ‘I think you were the last-footer, Steve, not the first,' he chuckled.

‘Rubbish,' Meredith said. ‘This'll be Timmy, up to a bit of mischief, no doubt.'

Grace's blood ran cold at the idea of a ghost child in here alone with her daughter on the stroke of midnight, while she stood locked outside with this strange family. A spike of fear shot through her. ‘I need to take Millie home,' she said. ‘Now.' Her voice came out low and strange. ‘Let me out.'

No one moved, everyone just kept staring, but then Claire's kind face appeared in front of her. She held Grace's arms as she said gently, ‘I'll walk you home.'

‘Can you take the pushchair?' Grace asked, and then headed towards the door, holding a shrieking Millie tightly to her. Everyone parted to let her through, but no one said a word. She avoided their eyes, making her way quickly outside and onto the road. The cold hit her like a blow as the darkness enveloped her, and she hurried down the hill. The light was on in the pub, and she used that as a guide. They were almost at the cottage when she heard footsteps behind them.

‘Is Millie all right?' Claire asked breathlessly as she caught up.

Grace had Millie cradled against her, but the little girl had gone quiet now. Grace nodded and didn't speak further until they were at the cottage gate. ‘Thank you for bringing the pushchair. You can leave it by the porch – I'll put Millie to bed and then I'll come back for it.'

She didn't wait for a response, and hurried upstairs to settle Millie in her cot. The little girl rolled to face the wall without a sound. Grace watched her sleeping for a while, wanting to make sure she was all right, but Millie didn't move again. By the time Grace headed back downstairs, she was both relieved and exhausted.

She went to collect the pushchair, to discover that Claire was still hovering in the garden.

‘I wanted to check you were both okay.'

‘Really, we're fine,' Grace replied wearily.

‘Are you sure?'

Grace took in Claire's earnest face. This woman was a Blakeney – and she wanted little more to do with them after tonight. But Claire had always seemed different, and Grace felt a sudden need for company, so she found herself saying,
‘You're welcome to stay for a drink if you like. Then I have to get to bed.'

Claire followed her into the lounge.

‘Tea or something stronger?'

‘Tea is fine.'

Grace made the drinks, then they sat down. Claire fiddled with the handle of her mug for a while before she looked up. ‘I feel I should apologise for my family …'

Grace shook her head. ‘Perhaps I'm overreacting – my head's a bit all over the place.'

‘Well, at least take no notice of the Timmy comments. He was a bit of a joke among us when we were little, but Mum really believes in him – she gets extremely irate if we push her too far on it.'

‘Well, maybe she's right. Maybe he does exist, and he scared the hell out of Millie tonight.'

Claire seemed astonished. ‘Do you really believe that?'

Grace ran a hand over her face. ‘I didn't. If you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be talking seriously to somebody about seeing ghosts, I would have laughed. But since I've been here, I've been dreaming of black dogs, hearing spooky stories everywhere, and standing in front of a clock that appears to choose when it stops and starts … I don't know any more …'

‘But Grace, there are perfectly reasonable explanations for those things … The clock might have a fault. And perhaps the dreams about black dogs are happening because you've made them significant, so your subconscious keeps throwing them back up again. All the ghost stuff is just hearsay. Until you see some incontrovertible evidence for yourself, don't believe it.'

Grace smiled at her. ‘You're probably right.' She hesitated. ‘You're different to the rest of your family, Claire. More …' She wasn't sure how to finish.

‘I'm hoping you're going to be the first person ever to say normal,' Claire chuckled, indicating her piercings as she did so. ‘These usually make me stand out for a start. But I am very different to them. I think Ben and I have more trouble hiding our feelings than the others. And there's so much going on in our family that I'd rather not know about. You'll have to excuse Jenny, for a start. She's all bitter and twisted at the moment because Liza is pregnant. Jenny would love a family, but she had to have an emergency hysterectomy a few years ago. She's trying to live with it, but she doesn't do a great job at times … She's had a tough time of it lately, anyway – she was always Dad's baby and it hit her particularly hard when he died. No doubt she's envious of you having Millie – I remember her having a bit of a crush on Adam when he lived here. She always used to tag along when I went out for a sneaky cigarette with him. It annoyed the crap out of me, I quite liked him myself.'

Grace smiled, still having trouble picturing Adam as a chain-smoking teenager.

‘My role in the family is primarily as the dumping ground for everyone else's stress and problems,' Claire continued, ‘most of which, if not all, are self-inflicted. You can see why I like to go on long trips away …' Claire smiled as she said it, but her underlying frustration was clear. ‘And what about you, Grace?' she asked. ‘What are your plans now?'

‘I have no idea.' Grace sighed. ‘I've only been on my own here for a couple of days, and it feels like everything is
getting on top of me again. I'm not sure if I'll be able to see this out. I'm normally pretty strong – I don't know why I'm struggling so much …'

‘Well, you've been through a lot,' Claire said. ‘Give yourself a break. Besides, struggling doesn't make you weak, Grace. Considering what you're dealing with, it would probably be more of a concern if you weren't struggling …'

Grace put her head in her hands. ‘Well, I'm fed up of it. I don't know how much longer I can live here without going crazy, but there's still quite a bit to do …'

Claire looked thoughtful. ‘You know, when I go travelling, I pick up a bag, and I go. Sometimes I'm away for a few weeks. The longest I've been gone is a couple of years. But everything I've needed has been in that bag … When I come home from a trip it always takes me a while to get used to living in a house, and it always seems strange how attached people get to a lot of irrelevant, unnecessary stuff.'

‘Point taken,' Grace said. ‘But I'm not attached to this place at all. That's what I'm trying to say. I want to sort every thing out here and then move on, give myself and Millie the best shot at a life somewhere else. But if I can at least get the cottage generating an income for us, I'll have so much more freedom to choose what I do next.'

‘Well, money isn't everything. The people I meet on the road who do have money don't have half as much fun. Because the ones without too much ready cash
have
to take risks – they can't play it safe because they don't have that luxury. So we don't lock ourselves away in posh hotels, or on guided tours, even though we probably would if we could afford it. But as a result, the experience is so much richer.
Those who can play it safe, invariably do – and, you know what, I think they miss out. So don't be afraid of risk, Grace.'

Grace was listening hard. ‘But that's the funny thing, I thought I was taking a risk – coming here,' she said.

‘Really?' Claire looked bemused. ‘To me it seems like you're trying to do the responsible thing.'

‘Maybe.' Grace smiled at Claire. ‘I'll certainly think about what you've said.' She took a sip of her drink. ‘I'm sorry Ben didn't come tonight.'

Claire shrugged. ‘He has his reasons. I should stop interfering, he's a big boy.'

‘So, if you and Adam were good friends when you were younger,' Grace asked, ‘how come Ben didn't know him very well?'

‘Oh, Ben was doing his own thing by the time we were eighteen, certainly not hanging around with me. It's that strange twin thing – we've got a strong bond, but we can irritate the hell out of each other as well.'

Grace stared at her in astonishment. ‘You're twins?'

‘Yes – I thought you knew.'

Grace shook her head. ‘It makes sense though – Ben seems so much closer to you than the others, and you share certain similarities.'

‘Yes – as Mum used to say, we're both wilful and pig-headed,' Claire laughed. She finished her drink. ‘It also makes me piggy in the middle in the case of everyone versus Ben. But then my brother doesn't help that really – he's so hard to predict, or prise information from. Well, thanks for letting me stay for a chat. I'd best get back to the house now and see what's happening. Will you be okay?'

‘I'll be fine, thanks.' Grace followed her to the front door.

‘Happy New Year,' she called out belatedly, a few seconds after Claire had closed the gate behind her.

‘Happy New Year,' came Claire's disembodied voice in reply, her body already engulfed by the night.

 

When Grace shut the front door, she went back into the lounge and poured herself a glass of wine. She took it out to the hallway and stood in front of the grandfather clock, feeling impetuous. ‘Happy New Year, and fuck you,' she said to the clock, raising her glass to it.

The clock ticked on.

It was after two a.m. She knew she was going to regret staying up in a few hours, but the night had thrown up so many things to think about. Pieces were beginning to come together in her mind. From what she had overheard earlier, there could be little doubt that Liza and Steve were having an affair. Perhaps Liza wasn't meant to be in Ockton on the day she had bumped into Adam? It would certainly explain her reluctance to get involved. Especially if Dan was friends with people on the investigation.

She remembered what Claire had said about Adam. She smiled to herself, wondering if Adam knew what Meredith's girls had thought of him.

Then something occurred to her that made her freeze.

Jesus, she thought. If she were right, this would change everything.

She hurried over to a pile of papers, and leafed rapidly through them until she found those strange notes. She
searched for the only one that was signed. She had read it as Jonny. But that
o
could easily be an
e
. In fact it was an
e
, the more she looked at it.