Kiera Hudson & The Creeping Men (5 page)

“What a freak!” Potter grumbled, marching back toward my car. “Let’s just get you to your digs. I’ve listened to enough bollocks for one night.”

“How can you be so dismissive of her story?” I asked, catching him up. Couldn’t you see she was scared?”

“
She
was scared?” Potter said across the roof of my car at me. “
I
was scared of her when she started going on about all that stuff supposedly being moved about the girl’s bedroom.”

“You didn’t believe her then?” I asked, both of us climbing inside my tiny car. I started the engine and it spluttered into life.

“Did you?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Yes,” I told him. I pulled out of the car park and onto the road, turning right. The night was warm so I wound down the window. The breeze blew my hair back from my face. Potter was looking at me. “What?”

“So you didn’t think her story was just a bit strange?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I nodded, eyes on the road ahead. “That’s what makes it so interesting.”

“Interesting?” he scoffed, shaking out a smoke into his hand and lighting it. I wanted to tell him not to smoke in my car but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I’d just be wasting my breath. I wound down the window some more. “Okay, so you’re new to this whole investigating lark, I can see that.”

“So what do you think really happened then?” I was interested to know how he would explain away such strange circumstances.

“The father, this Edmund guy, he doesn’t feel that Locke is doing the best by his daughter,” Potter started to explain. “He thinks it’s time that Amanda got a better education. But knowing how clingy Locke is, he decides to sneak the girl abroad at night to avoid a scene with the housekeeper come nanny come slave, or whatever it is she does. And right on cue, she starts getting all emotional because the girl has been sent away. So doing what he really wanted to do all along, he gives the old cow the boot. You know, sacks her. She puts on the old waterworks, makes him feel guilty because we know most blokes don’t know how to handle a woman that cries, so he tells her she can stay another month until she gets her shit sorted out.”

“What about the giant dog?” I ask, shooting him a sideways glance.

“What about the freaking dog?” he said, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Like he told old Locke, he bought the dog for company.”

“But it wasn’t there in the outhouse…” I started.

“Because he probably took the thing for a walk,” Potter cut in. “He was pissed off with Locke for spying on him from her bedroom window.”

“She said it looked like a giant hound,” I reminded him, seeing if I could provoke any kind of reaction.

“Giant hound, my arse,” Potter said. “She said herself it was dark and the dog was hidden by shadows. It could have been a pink fucking poodle for all we know.”

“But what about what she heard Sir Edmund saying? Leash. Leash. Leash,” I asked, slowly taking the tight narrow bends in the road ahead.

“He was probably saying ‘lead.’ You know, like
lead
on, doggy,” Potter said, sounding exasperated.

“The stuff that moved – like the iPod?” I quizzed.

“How many times have you put something down only to go back to it to find that it’s been moved?” he said. “It just means that you were mistaken where you thought you had left it. That’s all. There is nothing going on at Bastille Hall that can’t easily be explained away. Locke is upset because she’s lost the girl she thought of as a daughter, and now that Amanda’s gone she’s lost her own job. Don’t get me wrong, I feel sorry for the old cow, but going along with her fantasy would be wrong too.”

“Wrong?” I frowned. “How so?”

“It would be wrong for me to take money from someone so desperate and unhappy,” he said, flicking his cigarette out of the window. “I might be an arsehole, but I’m not that kind of arsehole.”

“So if you didn’t believe her, why were you taking notes?” I asked him, steering my little car through the dark along the tight coastal roads.

“Notes?” he looked confused.

“I saw you writing in your notebook,” I reminded him.

“Oh that,” he said, taking the notebook from his pocket. “They weren’t notes. I was making a list.”

“A list? What kind of list?” I asked. Now it was my turn to look confused.

“A shopping list,” he said, thumbing through the pages of his notebook. “You saw for yourself that my fiancée Sophie has got the arse-ache with me so I could be sleeping in the cells back at the office for some time. I was making myself a list of things I would need to get. You know, shaving foam, razor blades, and I know we’re right out of bog-roll…”

“I don’t believe you!” I gasped, pulling to a stop outside the Crescent Moon Inn.

“No, I don’t believe you,” he whispered, looking out of the window at the inn.

“What don’t you believe?” I asked.

“How you found this place without me giving you one single direction,” he said, glancing slowly back at me. “You said you didn’t know where this place was - that you’d never been here before. That’s why I let you tag along tonight so I could show you where this place was. That was the deal.”

How could I explain that I had been here before? But that had been in another time and place – another
where
and
when
.

“Luck, I guess,” I smiled with a shrug.

“I don’t believe in luck,” he said, not taking his eyes from mine.

“What do you believe in?” I asked, not breaking his stare. Fighting the urge to lean over and kiss him.

“I believe that you knew where this place was all along,” he said. “You just made out that you didn’t because you wanted to tag along with me.”

“And why would I want to do that?” I asked, looking away now.

“Only you know the answer to that,” he said, pushing the car door open and climbing out.

I got out after him as he strode away, hands in his pockets. “Potter!” I yelled.

“Yeah?” he said, stopping and glancing back at me.

“How will you get back into town from here? It’s a good few miles,” I said.

“I could do with the walk,” he said, turning away again.

But I knew that as soon as his back was turned he would find another way to get back to the Ragged Cove and it wouldn’t be on foot. “Potter!” I called out again.

“What now?” he said, looking back again.

“Do you think that dog – the one that Ms. Locke said she saw – do you think it could have been a werewolf?” My heart raced.

“Do you believe in the existence of such creatures?” he asked, eyes narrowing in the darkness.

“You said back at the police station – I mean at the offices of The Creeping Men, that you investigated such things,” I reminded him. “You told me you investigated vampires and the undead.”

“You’re right, I did say that. But just because I investigate them, doesn’t mean I believe in their existence. I’ve investigated hundreds of alleged sightings and accounts over the years, but haven’t yet seen a real one. Just the stuff of myths and legends,” he said, turning his back on me one final time and setting off into the darkness in the direction of the Ragged Cove.

When I could no longer see him, I turned back to my car. I opened the boot, taking out the case that was there. I headed toward the entrance of the Crescent Moon Inn. It looked just like I remembered it to be. A rickety building with a slate roof and ivy crawling all over its front walls like a disease.

As I pushed the front door open, I heard what sounded like a thunderclap booming in the distance. Was that thunder – an approaching storm I could hear? But in my heart I knew it was Potter, soaring away. With a faint smile tugging at my lips, I stepped inside the Crescent Moon Inn again.

Just as I remembered, there was a crescent-shaped bar along the far wall. But like before, the inn wasn’t very busy. There were some guests seated at tables drinking and eating. None of them looked up like they had before the world got
pushed
. They were too busy chatting and laughing amongst themselves. There was no oppressive atmosphere this time around, and no bulbs of garlic hanging over the bar, or a table with bottles of holy water and crucifixes for sale. The five-pointed star over the fireplace had gone, and in its place hung a painting of the cove at winter – covered white with snow. It looked like someone had stuck a giant Christmas card to the wall. I didn’t care. Anything had to be better than the gloom that had permeated the air at the inn before.

I made my way amongst the tables to the bar. As I did, a young girl got up and dropped some coins into a jukebox, which was against the far wall. The song
Budapest
by George Ezra started to play.

“Can I help you?” someone asked.

I glanced up. A young man in his early twenties was beaming at me from behind the bar. There was no old lady with wispy white hair and cataracts this time. His shoulder length black hair was swept back, revealing a handsome face. Green eyes sparkled out of it. His smile was more of a welcoming grin. He was slim and wore a blue checked shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbow. But I could see that for someone still so young, he was married.

He looked down at the small case I carried, then back at me. “Let me guess, you’re Kiera Hudson, right?”

“Erm, yeah,” I said, a little surprised. “How do you know my name?”

“We’ve been expecting you,” he said, taking a thick leather ledger from behind the counter and thumbing through it. “Yep, that’s right. Just one room left and it’s been booked for you.”

“Really?” I said. “By whom?”

The guy ran one finger down the page. “Let me see. Here we go. The room was booked by someone named Lois Li. She said she was from the agency.” He glanced up at me. “You know her, right?”

“Right,” I smiled, recognising the name as the person who had sent me the letter regarding taking up a temporary position with The Creeping Men.

“Okay, then,” he said, reaching out behind him and taking down the last remaining key from a set of hooks attached to the wall. “You’re in room number…”

“Two,” I finished for him.

“Yeah, how did you know?” he asked.

“Just a hunch,” I said, taking the key from him. I could smell the saliva-inducing scent of roast beef wafting from the kitchen. Remembering the strict mealtimes set at the inn before, I said, “I don’t suppose there is any chance of getting a bite to eat. I know it’s late but…”

“No problem at all,” the young guy smiled, plucking a pencil from behind his ear and grabbing a pad from beneath the bar. “What would you like?”

I looked at the menu fixed to wall next to the bar. “A cheese sandwich will be just fine,” I said.

“Chips with that?” he asked.

“Just the sandwich,” I said. “Oh, and a pot of tea would be great, too.”

“Coming right up,” he said, turning to the kitchen. “Hey, Phebe!”

The kitchen door was pushed open by a young woman. She was about the same age as the guy and as pretty as he was handsome. He handed her the slip of paper with my order written on it. “This is my girlfriend, Phebe.”

“Please to meet you,” she smiled.

“This is Kiera Hudson,” the guy said.

“Really?” the girl said, her eyes growing momentarily wider.

“You know, that agency called and made the booking for her,” he said. I couldn’t help but notice how he gave his girlfriend a subtle nudge.

“Sure,” she breathed, staring as if summing me up in some way.

“The sandwich,” her boyfriend reminded her.

“Oh, yeah, sure. See you around, Kiera Hudson,” she said, before stepping back into the kitchen.

“Okay,” I smiled, feeling a little unnerved but not sure why. It was like they had been expecting me in some way. But of course they had, as the room had been booked in advance for me by Lois Li. But it seemed more than that.

“If you want to head on up,” he said, “Phebe will bring the food to your room.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning toward the stairs that I knew would lead up to my room. Then stopping, I looked back and said, “What’s your name?”

“Uri,” he said.

I headed up the stairs to my room and along the narrow landing. I took the key and pushed it into the lock. The room was in darkness, so I found the light switch and flipped it on. The room was brighter with finer furnishings than it had been before. There was a soft-looking bed in the far corner, and a desk and chair by the window. It reminded me of my favourite chair back in my rented rooms in Havensfield. Was that chair still there waiting for me, so I could sit in it and stare for hours out of the window, watching the world pass by below? Closing the door behind me, I placed my case onto the bed. There was a wardrobe and I pulled open the doors. Hangers jingled from the single rail inside.

I went to the bathroom and turned on the light. Just as before, there was a deep bath. I switched on the taps, and as hot water sloshed from them, I went back to the bedroom and opened my case. Now I hadn’t packed it – or had I? At what point had I been
pushed
by Noah? Had everything been arranged for me before I found myself back in my car, trundling along the road that led down into the Ragged Cove?

I opened the case. Jeans, sweatshirts, and underwear had been placed neatly inside, along with a pair of black trainers. Sitting on top of the clothes was an iPhone and a set of earphones coiled up like a snake. I snatched them up.

“Yes!” I sighed with delight. “Music.”

I put the headphones into my ears and hit the music icon with my thumb. It had been loaded with tracks. I scrolled through them until I finally selected
Stay With Me
by Sam Smith. Humming along to the music, I pressed the
Contacts
button. There were just two. Someone had added the office phone numbers for Lois Li’s Temping Agency and Sean Potter’s detective Agency,
The Creeping Men
.

My thumb hovered over Potter’s number. If I called him now, would he answer? Would he be there? What would I say? What excuse would I give so I could just hear his voice? There was no excuse I could think of.

With the music still playing in my ears, I went back to the bathroom and got undressed. Resting the iPhone on the edge of the bath, I sunk down into the water. I closed my eyes, resting my head back. The hot water felt so good against my skin. How long had it been since I’d felt anything like this? I had been with Potter. We had found that waterfall on the outskirts of Wasp Water. That was where Potter had finally asked me to marry him. And he was getting married, but not to me. I felt the sudden sting of tears in my eyes. I screwed them tight, forcing back the tears. I couldn’t let myself feel any kind of sadness at losing Potter and my friends. They were happy now, and I had to be happy for them. That was the plan. That was how I had defeated the Elders. Was the Potter in this world really so different from the man who had made love to me beneath the fountain, then asked me to marry him? For all I knew, he could be the same man – but he just didn’t remember. But I couldn’t get him to remember what we had once shared. I must never do that. That could change –
destroy
– everything. But what if he didn’t remember – what if he just fell in love with me all over again? That would work, wouldn’t it? It might work for me – but Potter was in love with Sophie in this world. They were engaged to be married. It would be wrong for me to come between them. But what if I didn’t? What if Potter just fell in love with me all of his own doing? That wouldn’t be my fault, would it?

No!
I told myself, splashing my face with water, trying to see sense. I made the decision to let him go. I wanted him to be happy and the thought of that made me happy. I mustn’t come between him and Sophie. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair. And it might change something. Something that wasn’t meant to be changed. Having Potter as my boss – my friend – would have to be enough for me in this new world.

Taking the earphones out, I gasped a lungful of air and sunk beneath the water, secretly fearing that being just friends with Potter would just never be enough.