Read Fourteen Days Online

Authors: Steven Jenkins

Tags: #novel, #ghost story, #steven jenkins, #horror, #dark fantasy, #fiction, #haunting, #barking rain press

Fourteen Days (6 page)

BOOK: Fourteen Days
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“Look,” he said, watching Nicky hold back her laughter. “I’m not going to say anything in front of you. You’ll make fun of me again.”

Nicky put her hands up as if to surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving. I’ve got some washing to do. So I’ll leave you two ghostbusters alone.” She stood to leave. “Have fun!”

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he sat on the single sofa chair. “Sorry about her. She just loves teasing me.”

“Don’t worry about Nicky. I know how closed her mind is. She gives me a hard time too.” She took a sip of tea. “So, Nicky’s been telling me that you think you saw a ghost.”

“Don’t listen to her, Karen. I didn’t say that I saw a ghost. She’s just making fun. I said that I think I saw someone. A woman. In the kitchen.”

“What did she look like?”

“Does it matter? She’s not even real. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Karen smiled. “Well, they believe in you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying that they
do
exist. They’re all around us. But that’s not to say that every strange thing we see is something paranormal. But sometimes…”

“Look, there are a million reasons to explain why I saw her.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “Like a trick of the eyes. Or the glare from the sunlight. Or stress from work. It could be anything.”

“Describe her, Rich. Her clothes. Her hair. How old did she look?”

“She looked about thirty-odd, and she had long, brown hair, all wet and greasy as if she was dripping in sweat.”

“And what was she wearing?”

“She had a white dress on. Like a summer dress. Like the ones Nic wears sometimes. But it was dirty, covered in stains.”

Karen fell silent for a moment as she processed the information. “That doesn’t sound like a trick of the eyes to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because you described her so well.”

“So? She still could be a hallucination. It doesn’t mean there’s a ghost in my kitchen.”

“You’re right. I’m not saying that you saw a spirit, but there is a possibility.” She took another sip of her tea. “Has anything else been happening around here?”

“Well, the smoke detector’s been going off on its own for the past couple of days, even after I changed the battery. But I suppose it could be faulty.”

“It could be faulty. Anything else?”

“I’ve been having weird dreams about the woman.” He thought for a second. “Oh, and Nicky’s keys went missing. The TV came on on its own with the volume all the way up. I mean, that was strange. Really strange.”

“And has Nicky witnessed any of this?”

He shook his head. “No—apart from the smoke alarm and the TV. Nothing else. It’s just always when I’m home alone in the day.”

Karen sat back on the couch, chewing on this information. “This woman—did you recognize her? Maybe from work, or…”

He shook his head again. “No. I’ve never seen her before.”

“And you’re positive?”

“Yes. One hundred percent. I’ve never seen her before in my life. That’s what’s so weird.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then there’s a good chance that you
did
see someone in your kitchen. And that someone could well be trying to get a message across to you.”

Frowning, he shuffled on the couch, half-hoping that she was talking complete nonsense. “Look, if I did see something—and I’m not saying I did—but if I did, then what might she want from me?”

Karen shrugged. “Who knows? In a lot of cases it’s the previous owner of the house. Do you know anything about them?”

“I think the house is about fifteen, or maybe even twenty years old. And the last owner was a man.”

“How many other owners have there been? Maybe it was a woman that died before him.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. My neighbour Ilene will know—she’s lived here for years.”

“Ask her.”

Richard chuckled. “Not a chance.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous. I can’t go ’round her house and ask her about a bloody ghost. She’ll think there’s something wrong with me. Plus, I haven’t been ’round in ages. And she’s old and lonely. She’ll make me feel guilty for not making more of an effort.”

Karen grinned. “Well that’s perfect then. You’ve got an excuse to go and see her. You can have a cup of tea and a chat, and then you can just drop it into the conversation. You don’t even have to mention the ghost. Just pick her brain about the previous owners. She’ll probably be grateful for the visit.”

Mulling over the idea, he sat back. But then he shook his head. “No. It’s not happening. It’s stupid. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Are you sure about that? Sounds to me that you’re in denial, that you’re afraid to admit it.”

“Look, I admit that I almost wet my pants when I saw her—it. And I admit that things have been a little strange around here. But the idea of having a real-life ghost in my house is too laughable. I mean, come on, Karen, things like this don’t happen. Not to me. And not in my house.”

Karen finished her tea and set the cup down on the floor. “Look, whether you believe it or not, you just need to know that if it is a ghost, she probably doesn’t mean you any harm. You could always ask her what she wants, or even ask her to leave.”

He sniggered. “Ask her to leave? Yeah, I’m sure she’ll listen.”

“Just try it if anything else happens here. What have you got to lose?”

“My dignity for one. I’d look like a complete dick asking a ghost to leave my house.”

“No one’s going to hear.”

“I’ll hear though.” He got up from the couch and walked toward the door. “Look, Karen, I know you’re trying to help, but I’m fine. I’m just tired. It’ll pass in a few days. And I’ll be back to work in no time. Then I can put all this stupidity behind me.”

“All right, Rich. But remember what I said. And you can call me if you want to ask something. Oh, and give Nic a shout for me. She’s probably outside the door listening.”

“You mean laughing.”

He opened the door to find the hallway empty. “Nicky!” he called out. “I’m done. You can have your friend back now!”

Richard was lying in bed as his wife slept next to him. The dread he felt earlier had subsided. He wasn’t sure whether it was the presence of Nicky, or in fact his conversation with Karen. Either way he felt a lot better.

It’s all bogus nonsense
, he thought as he stared up at the glass light fixture
. Of course she’s going to say that my house is haunted

she’s a bloody hippy-witch. Yeah, some of what she said seemed plausible, but going over to Ilene’s to investigate a dead woman—no
freaking chance. No, it’s just sheer boredom and coincidence. Nothing else. No ghosts. No demons. And no strange goings-on. Just an ordinary house in Bristol.

Time to focus my energy on normal things. Important things.

He turned to face Nicky. He listened to the sound of her gentle breath as she lay facing him. It made him happy. Then the feelings of guilt he had experienced on Friday resurfaced. How could he spend so much time away from home, away from her? What could she have thought of him? Did she think that he didn’t love her, that he would rather spend his time slaving away at the office? Or what if she thought he was sleeping with one of his work colleagues? Maybe even Leah? After all, she did blame Leah for all the long hours, even though it was his persistence that kept him working overtime.

Turning to her, he smiled.
I’m going to make it up to her. When I’m back on my feet, things are gonna change. I promise. No more long hours. I’ll be a new man. A better man
. He reached forward and placed his hand on her lower back. But as he made contact, she mumbled something inaudible in her sleep, making him smile again, pushing away his guilty conscience. Trying to make out what she was saying, he leaned in close. Her words were nothing but gibberish, so he gave up and moved away. But as he did, he could faintly hear a sentence form.


Have you seen my baby
?”

His heart almost stopped with fear. Leaning in close once again, he waited for her to say something else. “Nicky?” he whispered. “Are you awake?” With no reply he turned and lay on his back.
How could she know about my dream? Did I tell her? Or Karen? No, I didn’t. I’m sure of it. Could it just be a bizarre coincidence?

Frowning, he glanced over at his wife again. She was still fast asleep. He shook his head in disbelief.
I’ll ask her tomorrow. See what she says. It can’t be a coincidence. Impossible. But what’s the alternative? An actual ghost? In my house?

He groaned. More stress.

This is the last thing I need
.

Chapter 6
Day 6: Sunday

R
ichard awoke to the sound of hard rain hitting the bedroom window. He hadn’t been able to drop off until about 5:30 a.m. The idea that his house might be haunted kept his mind busy throughout the night. Was everything that Karen had told him right? Was there a dead woman in his kitchen? Did she want something from him?

And if so, what?

What could Richard Gardener have that she needed? He wasn’t an expert when it came to the supernatural. He knew a little, but the majority of his knowledge came from movies and Stephen King novels.

Not real life.

Not
his
life.

He slipped both hands behind his head.
I’ll ask Nic about her dream when she wakes
. He sighed.
What’s the point? She’ll never believe me. And even if she does, she’ll come up with some logical explanation—that I won’t agree with—and then we
’ll start arguing again. No, it’s not worth it. Best keep my mouth shut.

Turning onto his side, he watched as Nicky began to stir.
Maybe I’ll save it for another day. I think today I need to give this house a wide berth and try to enjoy my Sunday.

Nicky half-opened her eyes and smiled. “What d’ya think you’re looking at?” she whispered.

“Why don’t we do something nice today?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know—just out.”

Sitting up in bed, she glanced across at the window and noticed the rain outside. “But it’s pouring out.”

“So what? We don’t have to have a picnic. We can just go for a drink. Or a meal. Or even to the cinema. What do you think?”

Rubbing her eyes, she yawned. “Why don’t we just get some take-out and watch a DVD? We’ve got loads of films from Christmas we haven’t seen yet.”

“Because I’ve spent the last week eating crap and watching DVDs. I’m sick of it. And you’re the one always saying we should go out more often.”

“Fine. Point taken. Let’s go for Sunday lunch somewhere, and then go to the cinema. But no horror films. All right?”

Beaming, he kissed her on the cheek, “All right, no horror films. Something we both like.” He then rolled out of bed. “Maybe we could even go out for breakfast too, and then hit the shops. We haven’t done that in ages.”

Frowning, she climbed out of bed. “What’s with you? Why are you keen to leave so early?”

He slipped on his jeans. “Like I said, I’ve been bored when you’ve been at work all day, and yesterday you had to visit your sister. So I think we should spend the whole day away from this house for a change.”

“All right, if that’s what you want. I’ll take a quick shower and then we’ll go to The Coffee-Pot for breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” Relief circulated through Richard’s entire body.

Finally, a break from the house.

They were sitting in the Forester Arms, eating their roast-beef dinners. As usual, Richard had almost finished his in record time, whereas Nicky seemed to have barely touched hers.

Sipping his lager, he asked, “How is it? Nice?”

“Good, I’m just a bit full. Had too much breakfast this morning. Can’t eat as much as you.”

He smiled, and then stole a roast potato from her plate using his fork.

“Take more if you want,” she offered. “I’m not going to finish it.”

Unable to answer due to a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding, he nodded instead. After he had devoured both plates, he sat back, bloated, and rubbed his stomach. “I’m stuffed. Feel like I’ve eaten a whole cow.”

“I think you have,” she replied, shaking her head in astonishment. “Fancy a dessert? Some cheesecake or something? Maybe some chocolate fudge cake?”

Exhaling as he mulled over the decision, he picked up the menu. “Not sure if I can fit it in.” He ran a finger down the list of options. “Everything looks so nice though.”

“You don’t have to decide right now. We’re not in any rush. Let’s have another drink.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ve got all day. No reason to rush home. Plus, we’ve got the cinema later.”

“Exactly. You have a dessert. I won’t though. I’ll just watch you stuff your face.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, reaching over the table to stroke her hand.

“Of course I’m sure.”

And with that, he glanced again at the dessert menu, and then flagged down the waiter.

The rain hammered down on the quiet road.

Richard held onto Nicky’s arm as they crossed over. He gripped the umbrella over both of them as it flung from side to side in the wind. As they blindly stepped onto the pavement, the umbrella pulled away from his grasp, blowing down the road out of reach. Running to get it, he stepped in a deep puddle, soaking through to his sock, causing his wife to chuckle.

“Leave it!” she shouted.

Stopping in the middle of the road, he turned to her, his eyes squinting with the rain and wind. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, come on—the car’s over there!”

Running back to join her, he took her arm and they both fast-walked down the pavement with their bodies hunched, trying to avoid the cold rain hitting their faces.

They reached the car, both of them soaking wet, and climbed in. Turning to his wife, he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, grimacing.

“Your hair.”

She pulled down the passenger sun-visor and stared into the small mirror to inspect herself. “Cheeky bastard,” she said, while trying to fix it with her long fingernails.

“Can’t believe how wet this year’s been. Hope it gets better for summer. I’m sick of all this rain.”

“Me too,” she said, pushing up the sun visor. “Maybe we should go away this year. Somewhere warm. What do you think?”

“Sounds good. Once I’m back in work and I’ve sorted a few things out, I should have some free time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard
that
before.”

Frowning, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you say the same thing every single year, and every year you’re too busy—or we can’t afford it.”

“That’s not true,” he replied, struggling to find conviction in his words. “We’ve been away lots of times.”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “That was our honeymoon, Rich—three years ago.”

The car fell silent. “I know, you’re right,” Richard confessed. “But I have been thinking since I’ve been off work, and I am gonna change. Life’s too short. We
will
go away somewhere this summer.” He put his hand on her leg. “I promise.”

Subtly nodding, she put her hand over his. “I hope so.”

Silence gripped the car again, so he started up the engine and reluctantly headed back home.

I will change
, he thought, as he drove through the heavy rain, windshield wipers on at full-speed.
I know I can. I
’ll show her. When I go back next week, I’ll be a changed man. And she’ll have to eat her words. Work isn’t everything
.

He turned on the radio, hoping to block out his guilt. The station played love songs—which didn’t help. Then he remembered the woman from his kitchen. He had almost gone the entire day without thinking about her, about the possibility of his house being haunted. He tried to shake off the events of the last few days: the TV, Nicky talking in her sleep. But he couldn’t. The closer he got to home, the more his mind raced.

He looked at the digital clock on the dashboard: 10:06 p.m.
Straight to bed
, he thought.
No time to mill about in the kitchen. Nicky’ll be working tomorrow. She’ll need to sleep. Yes, everything’
ll be fine.

But tomorrow I’ll be alone again.

He pushed the thought of tomorrow to one side and focused on the road ahead. They hadn’t said a word to each other the entire journey. Pulling up outside their house, he turned to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. And wet. It’s been a long day. But it’s been nice to spend time with you.”

He smiled. “It has been nice. I’m gonna miss you when you go off to work tomorrow.”

She tapped his thigh. “I’m sure you’ll cope without me. You’ll have your new lady friend to keep you company.”

“Very funny,” he replied, fake-smiling. When he opened the door and climbed out of the car, his sock squelched as his foot touched the concrete.

But what if she’s right
, he thought, approaching the front door.
Would I really be alone tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that? No. Don’t be stupid, Rich. This is Karen’s fault. You don’t even believe in ghosts. She’s just filled your head with this stuff, and this dark and rainy weather is making things seem worse. There’s nothing in your house. There’s no one in your kitchen. But what about Nicky’s talking in her sleep? How do I explain that?

When he entered the house, the lonely, creepy feelings began to resurface. In a matter of days his home had become a different place. Nothing like the wonderful first home together of five months ago. Nothing like the place they had spent a small fortune decorating to Nicky’s specific tastes.

Get a grip, Gardener. Focus! There’s no such thing as ghosts.

With the hallway lit up, he could see the kitchen blackened in the distance. He imagined the woman still sitting on the dreaded chair, waiting for him to walk in. Fighting off his anxiety, he headed straight upstairs, almost running. Nicky followed.

After drying off, they climbed into bed. The room felt cold and drafty, prompting him to check to see if the window had been left open. It had been. Nicky hadn’t seemed to notice the cold. She lay facing him, hugging the quilt with her eyes closed. “Good night, babe,” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Night, Nic. See you in the morning.”

After a few minutes she had dropped off to sleep, leaving Richard alone once again, with the rain hitting the bedroom window hard, the chill in the air, and the woman in the white dress still on his mind.

And tomorrow was yet another day to be tormented by his own kitchen.

BOOK: Fourteen Days
11.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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