Glimpse (28 page)

After what felt a long while, the ground slammed into my back. My elbows saved my head from another whack. Pain ricocheted up my arms, but I couldn’t think of that now. I struggled, fighting to find the opening of the sack.

When I got free, I took stock of my immediate surroundings. I was in an underground room. Propped upright against the wall like a rag doll was Dad.

Pins and needles spread through my body. In the corner stood the reason for all this. Ann.

In one glance, I took everything in. Small red-brick room, jagged walls, floor crumbling into brick dust, curved ceiling – and only one possible exit, guarded by Crowley and Scott. Ann danced from foot to foot, gleeful as a fool, watching me.

I ran to Dad, dropped to my knees and put my hands to his face. He was warm, his skin damp. His chest rose and fell, but his breaths were shallow.

I looked up at Ann. Anger boiled like acid through my veins, overriding my fear. ‘What have you done to him?’

She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on the soles of her shoes, like a proud child. ‘Good morning to you too, Elizabeth.’ Her voice was sweet. ‘He’s not hurt. Simply drugged. I brought him here to ensure you cooperate.’

I had never wanted to hit anyone before now, but I wanted to slap her, claw at her. I wanted to destroy her.

‘He’s nothing to do with you. You should never have brought him into this. All because you’re jealous? You’re crazy.’

I turned now to Crowley and Scott, appealing to them with my sheer outrage, certain that if they only saw how stupid this was they’d let me and Dad go.

But something was wrong. They stared at the wall in front of them, unseeing, eyes void. Terror gripped me. Ann was no longer an annoyance who couldn’t hurt me. She had power. It was one thing controlling Meg, but these were two fully grown, strong men.

Scott’s warnings . . . Too late, I realized what he’d been warning me against, I thought of the bone in my bag. Scott must have been under Ann’s spell all this time.

I faced Ann, wary. ‘Why am I here?’

‘Because you refused to listen.’ She took dainty steps towards me. Tap, tap, tap.

I stepped back, brick shards digging into my bare feet.

‘Because I told you, multiple times, to stay away from Zachary. I gave you a chance. And you ignored me, every time.’

‘So what now?’ I glanced at Scott and Crowley, at their military stance. ‘You’re going to get them to hurt me?’

‘Yes.’ Ann smiled, showing her tiny white teeth.

‘For talking to Zachary?’

‘No, not for just talking to Zachary.’ Ann’s smile grew hard. ‘For being you.’ She spat the word. ‘For refusing to stop being you.’

I reached instinctively for a locket that wasn’t there.

‘For always acting like you were better than me,’ Ann said. ‘For swanning around this inn like you’re the best thing that ever happened to it. For bewitching Zachary. For coming back.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only just moved here. I was a child the last time I was—’

Ann laughed, a noise like breaking glass. ‘You are so incredibly dumb. I know all about you. About your nightmares, your lost memories, your poor mother, and – oh dear – all these nasty spirits you see. You truly are witless.’ Her smile was smug.

‘I don’t understand.’

Ann stopped her slow advance. She snapped her fingers at Scott. ‘Fetch.’

I watched in fascinated horror as Scott scuttled from the room, returning a moment later with the painting of Bess. He propped it against the wall where Ann pointed, then retreated to his post by the door.

Ann moved next to the painting and crooked a finger conspiratorially to me. ‘Let me tell you a story.’

I moved a few steps forward, uncertain, keeping my distance. Her words were calm, but she was like a ticking bomb.

‘You see this girl?’ Ann pointed at the painting. She didn’t wait for a response. ‘Elizabeth. Or Bess, as she is better known.’ Ann’s lips twitched. ‘She worked alongside me, before we passed over, and the way she carried on, you’d have thought she was royalty round here. Oh, look at my dark curls,’ Ann simpered, tugging at her hair, ‘look at my dresses, see how intelligent I am. No one even noticed me, because I was a simple barmaid, and she – Queen Bess – was the innkeeper’s daughter.

‘Then along came Zachary. He saw me first, but one glance at Bess, and he was bewitched. It was sickening; they acted so in love. Bess flaunted herself with him. Each night I watched him climb up to her window. If it hadn’t been for Bess, it would have been me he came to visit.’

I glanced at Dad. I needed to get him out of here. ‘What has this story to do with me, Ann?’

‘Patience,’ she snarled. ‘I was always underestimated. No one saw what I was, who I could be, because Bess blocked out my light. And after we passed, it got worse.’ She rolled her blue eyes. ‘Can you imagine two hundred years of watching her with Zachary? Centuries of seeing paintings made of her, poems being written about her? Can you?’ Her voice trembled.

I opened and closed my mouth. I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say.

Ann cocked her head to the side and smiled. ‘But you see, I’m smarter than Bess. I always was. I found a way to travel. I made deals with Meg, and our Mr Crowley here.’ She nodded an acknowledgement to him. ‘I procured information. I didn’t languish, like Bess did. I discovered, for example, that souls can enter human bodies as they lie dying. When one soul comes out, then, smooth as you like, in we can slip, taking their place. Your Mr Crowley over there, that body is his second vessel. He has been with me a long time.’ She smiled fondly in his direction.

My stomach churned. It couldn’t be true. But Crowley didn’t deny it. Scott didn’t even blink.

‘The only problem,’ Ann continued, ‘with a soul entering a new body, is that it’s extremely traumatic. The soul tends to forget things, even their true identity. Luckily for Mr Crowley, I was there to remind him. If not—’ she smiled at me ‘—well he’d be just like you, wouldn’t he? All forgetful.’

Ann jigged in front of the painting, tiny skipping steps. ‘The day the accident happened, right in front of my inn, I saw an opportunity. I’m clever like that.’ She swivelled and looked at me. ‘I knew dear Bess would come running, all worried and tender and wanting to help the poor, mangled family, and then with one little push,’ Ann shoved her hands through the air between us, ‘Poof! Bess would be gone, Zachary forgotten.’

I choked on my own breath. ‘What are you trying to say – you crazy, crazy—’

‘And it worked.’ Ann beamed. ‘You don’t remember a thing. Seven whole years, you were gone.’ Her smile hardened. ‘Then you returned, like a curse. You bewitched Zachary. Again. I warned you, but you didn’t listen. Again.’

I backed away until I hit the wall. I pressed my hands against it, bricks crumbling to dust. ‘You’re even crazier than I thought.’ My voice shook. ‘Are you trying to tell me that – that I’m Bess?’

Ann sighed.

She had this all wrong. In her delusion, she had made a huge mistake. She was going to hurt me over something that wasn’t even true.

‘Scott,’ I called across the room. ‘There’s no way you can believe this.’

‘I tried to warn you.’ Scott shrugged, not meeting my eye. ‘It’s not my fault what happens to you now.’

I gaped between Scott, Crowley and Ann. They were mad. All of them. Not remembering my past proved nothing.

‘Zachary behaves like you’re Bess,’ Ann said. ‘Meg tried to tell you – I intend to make her suffer for it. I thought I’d disposed of you once, but back you came. So now I need to dispose of you again. For good this time.’

She snapped her fingers at Scott. He walked towards me, still not meeting my eye.

I wanted to back away. I wanted to run. But there was nowhere for me to go. ‘Scott, don’t be stupid.’ I looked at Ann. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Well. I’m going to have you killed. And then Mr Crowley is going to take your bones – both sets – and throw them in the sea, far away from Zachary. Which is what I should have had him do in the first place.’ She sighed. ‘Ah, well, we all learn.’

Scott went to the corner of the room and picked something out of the dust.

A hunting rifle.

I could do nothing but gasp for air.

Scott stopped a metre away from me. The gun shook in his hands.

‘Seriously,’ I garbled, ‘please. You can’t . . .’

‘Walk out of this room and back to the inn.’ His voice jumped as much as mine.

Ann sighed. ‘Scott darling, be a man about it.’

Scott flinched. Then he squared his jaw and bridged the gap between us.

I stumbled sideways away from him. Something jabbed my ribs and I froze.

Hard, cold metal.

‘Up to your room,’ Scott repeated, more firmly.

I held my hands out to the side. Then I walked forwards – past Dad, past Ann, past Crowley, who opened the door. Scott followed, a single pace behind me, so close I could smell his aftershave and sweat.

We entered a long, low-ceilinged corridor, dark but for the dim light coming from a staircase at the end.

The moment Ann was behind us, I shifted against the gun at my back, trying to twist to see Scott. He was my link to the real world and my only hope – he had to let me go.

But he just prodded me with the gun barrel. ‘Keep moving.’ The metal was cold through my nightdress, the jab to my spine strong enough to bruise.

My eyes filled with tears. I thought of Lucy, the drowned girl, and realized Scott really might intend to kill me. I hadn’t even said bye to Dad.

Scott’s heavy breathing and the constant pressure of the gun in my back forced me to walk fast. I wanted to slow to a crawl, give the world time to make sense, but there was no time. I forced my quaking legs up the staircase at the end of the corridor, Scott still my shadow.

We emerged into Crowley’s office. The rug had been thrown back, revealing the trapdoor. All this time, while Dad had been playing piano and I’d been in my room thinking of Zachary, Scott and Crowley could have been underground with Ann.

‘Don’t do this, Scott,’ I said, struggling to keep my voice calm. I had to bring some reason back to this situation. ‘I know you. You don’t want to do this. Just let me go.’

‘Too late. I gave you enough chances.’ His voice jumped with nerves. ‘Don’t think about running when we get outside. I’ll shoot you the second you move.’

My hand shook almost too much to open the door, but I managed it. The driveway was bathed in grey light and early morning dew. I hobbled out onto it, gravel sticking into my bare feet.

‘Were you spying on me this whole time? For her?’

‘Open the inn door.’

The inn was cool and dark and silent inside. Scott jabbed me towards the stairs.

‘Not this whole time.’ His voice was resentful. ‘My dad wanted me to help right from the start, right from when you moved here, but you know what, Liz? I wanted to help you.’ He jabbed me again, making me wince.

We were almost at my bedroom now. And after that – there was nowhere else, unless I jumped out of the window.

‘I warned you, so many times, not to get involved with that highwayman. I even wanted to be your friend. If you’d just listened, none of this would be happening. But you threw it all back in my face.’

I stumbled into my room, then turned to face him, my hands up. Scott’s face was twisted and blotched. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead in wet spikes. Dark patches stained the underarms of his shirt.

‘I didn’t know,’ I pleaded. I had to make him hear me. I had to make him want to stop. ‘Please, Scott, I thought you were just being mean. I didn’t know you were trying to help.’

‘You never gave me a chance.’ Spit flecked the corners of his mouth. He let the gun drop to his side, gesticulating at me with his other hand. ‘You knew nothing about me, but you judged me just like everyone else. I didn’t kill Lucy, you know that? She was my friend, my friend who died. It was a terrible accident, but everyone just assumed it was me. Even you, and you don’t know me. Can you even begin to imagine what that’s like?’

I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. But if you . . .’ I gestured at the gun. It was hard to even say the words. ‘If you . . . shoot me, then you will be guilty. Why would you do that? Why would you do that for Ann?’

‘Because she appreciates me.’

He stepped into my bedroom, forcing me to retreat until the bed hit the back of my legs. But the gun stayed by his side, and that was all I cared about – that gun not pointing back at me.

‘And my dad appreciates me. They both think I’m worth something. Unlike you. Unlike everyone else in this village.’ He looked down at the gun.

Panic choked in my throat. ‘But what about your friends?’

He snorted. ‘They’re not real friends. They’re just the only ones who’ll talk to me. And they’d betray me in a flash.’

‘But you can’t believe Ann’s telling the truth? She’s mad, Scott. I’m not Bess. I’m not!’

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘I saw Bess . . . you, whatever . . . and that highwayman around the inn when I was a kid. You don’t seem that much different now. Hanging around in the woods together. Hanging around this room. My dad’s gone into another body. Ann says she’ll help me do the same when I get old. Kinda like being immortal. So, yeah.’ He met my gaze, and this time his eyes were cold. ‘I believe that you’re Bess.’

The cold space around my heart hardened and froze. I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight. I backed around the edge of the bed away from him, hands still raised. I thought of dying. Of how it would feel if he shot me. Of being like Zachary, or worse – of just being gone from this world, like my mum.

Observing with eerie detachment, Scott lifted the gun and pointed it at me. His eyes looked into mine, empty as a shark’s. ‘Don’t be afraid. It’s not like you haven’t died before. You even shot yourself before. I’ve read the poem. You’re meant to be dead.’

I was out of time. There would be no more talking. I threw myself at him, no plan, except I had to get that gun. Scott shoved me with his whole body, spinning me around, and—

BOOM

I opened my mouth to gasp. Nothing came out. My ears rang with the echo of the gunshot. My vision tunnelled, till I could see only the window.