The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) (25 page)

1

Sunlight
flooded into the bedroom through the partially opened blinds. Vana came in,
carrying a cup of tea and toast. She gently woke the sleeping Zoe. “What time
is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“It’s
11.25.”

“Why
did you let me sleep in? Is Aunt Sally up?”

“Yes,
she’s just nipped out for some cakes. I’ve only been up an hour or so – besides
you’ve got a visitor.” Zoe sat up.
“Who?”

“Just
drink, eat that, shower and join us downstairs when you’re ready.”

Vana
had already checked the bathroom and discovered that both the rag and the
gloves were missing from the washbasin – where they had left them. She asked
Sally if she had moved them, without going into too much detail. She didn’t
mention last night’s spooky events to Sally; instead they just had a
wonderful
chat
about the weather.

It
had finally dawned on Vana that Zoe’s instant reaction of puking explained her
statement that
the house is making me ill
. Questions flooded into Vana’s
mind. What caused the toilets to be blocked? Was it something to do with the
traveller woman? There was no way the gloves could have blocked the U-bend from
day one; this was an entirely new system. The more she thought about it, the
more it creeped her out.

2

The
front door opened with a thud. “It’s only me, my dears. Whose car is that out
front?” Zoe walked down the stairs to greet Sally.
“Morning.”

“Afternoon dear.”
She gave Zoe a hug and a kiss.
At that point Vana emerged from the lounge. “Quick! Kitchen,” she said, with a
slight tug on Zoe’s hand.

“The
car out front?” asked Sally.

“In
here,” replied Vana.

“Vana!
Just tell us,” stressed Zoe.

“Can
someone please tell me what’s going on?” Sally asked.

Vana
closed the kitchen door. “Basically, we went to see the local vicar during our
time
of need
and, well, he died of a heart attack in his church.” Upon hearing
the news, Sally’s right hand went into spasm and she dropped her shopping bags
onto the centre island; luckily, Zoe’s quick reactions prevented any damage
being done to the cakes. “Are you alright Aunt Sally?” She asked.

“Yes,
dear, I just went blank. It was a strange sensation,” replied Sally, emptying
her shopping bags.

“Do
you want me to get your tablets?” asked Zoe.

“No,
I’ll be fine with a cup of tea and a cake. It’ll be low blood sugar levels –
nothing to worry about. I’ll get the afternoon tea going.”

“When
Vana? When did he die?”

“They
reckon a few hours after our visit.”

Zoe
gasped, and started to shake. “Babs, Helen, and now Reverend Carmichael – what
have we done?”

“It’s
alright, Zoe. There’s no proof that she murdered them,” said Vana.

“Murder?
Who’s been committing murder?”
interrupted a concerned Sally. To say she was feeling
out of it
was an
understatement. Something, or someone, was giving off negative energy which was
clouding her state of mind. However, still believing it was her low blood
sugars, she indulged in a couple of chocolate cookies – whilst the girls
ignored her questions.

“Vana,
we both know that’s a lie,” said Zoe, who started to cry. With a tissue in
hand, she pointed to the door. “Who’s that in there?”

“Reverend
Clintwell, the new vicar from St Stephens, Oxford – and by the way, he’s fit!
Deffo got a look of Brad Pitt.”

“Vana...”

“Can
you please tell me who’s going around killing people?” interrupted Sally again,
finally returning to her normal self.

Vana
kept it brief, and brought Sally up-to-date. Her response was, “I find it all a
little bit hard to believe.” A subdued Zoe sat at the table, head in hands.
“Anyway,” Sally continued, “let’s not keep our guest waiting. Carry this in for
me, Zoe.” Zoe dried her eyes before picking up the tray of tea and milk.

The
trio entered the lounge where Reverend Clintwell sat waiting, patiently. Vana
wasn’t wrong, but he certainly was not Brad Pitt, well, maybe across the eyes,
but he was ginger! He was probably late 20s, early 30s, and was still trying to
hang onto his youthful good looks by colouring the first batch of grey hairs.
He got up to greet them. “This is Zoe, and her great Aunt Sally,” said Vana, as
she made the introductions.

“Nice to meet you both.”

“Cream
tea, vicar?” asked Sally, offering him a scone. “Thank you.” Zoe just sat
there, and listened as they chatted about the Mather family and the demise of
Reverend Carmichael. Clintwell failed to mention the strange feeling he got
upon entering the house.

He
took out the old, string wrapped, leather-bound journal from his satchel.
“Having read about your visit in this journal, I think what is happening is
very real. I do believe that there is an evil spirit at work. Reverend
Carmichael made reference to it on a page about one Mr Ellwood – dated 20
^th
May 1900.” Sally’s ears pricked up.

“Your
family moving here has certainly sparked things up somewhat. My former
colleague mentioned that the traveller woman possibly had something belonging
to her in this house. Did you find it?” Vana glanced at Zoe. “We found some
bloodied gloves.”

“Can
I see them?”

“We
left them in the sink after...” she stuttered, “after we got freaked out. They
weren’t there this morning.”

“They’re
her only connection to this house. I suggest you find and destroy them, using
Ellwood’s instructions.”

3

It
was only when Clintwell was getting ready to depart that two photographs fell
from the journal. They were a picture of the children, Violet and William, and
one of Frederick and Annie.

“Can
I see them?” asked Sally.

“Yes,
of course. I should have shown you them earlier,” he replied. Sally stared at
the pictures before reading the inscriptions on the back.
Violet
and William
Mather
and
Frederick and Annie Mather
.
A
tear ran down her face. “Could I keep them? I don’t have many photographs.”

“Yes,
by all means – there doesn’t seem a reason for me to keep hold of them.”

4

Aunt
Sally wasn’t too disappointed with Zoe and Vana withholding information; her
only comment was, “you girls should have told me the full story. I might not have
believed you – but, nevertheless, you should have told me. Now, what are our
plans for tonight?”

1

Saturday
morning, 29
^th
October – auction day. Everyone crowded around the
kitchen table, and Aunt Sally was making pancakes. “That’s your lot, James,”
she said, placing a large pancake in front of his beady eyes. Zoe’s phone
beeped; it was a message from Vana;
Are you sure I can stay?

“Mum,
are you sure it’s alright for Vana to stay for a few days?”

“Of
course, there’s plenty of room. She can stay for as long as she wants. If you
ask me, she needs a break from that boy.”

“Thanks,
mum,” she replied, texting Vana the good news. The last month had seen things
go from bad to worse with Matthew and Vana. The fact that they shared a house
had not helped matters – there’s just no escapism in a small terraced house.
Breaking point came when she caught him checking her phone for messages. He had
become slightly obsessive over her in recent weeks, which wasn’t a good thing.

2

3.32
pm – the bell rang. Zoe got up from the sofa to answer the door to find a
water-drenched Vana; her black mascara had run down her cheeks, eyes were
red-raw, and her fringe was doing its best to cover a black eye. Zoe knew that
the weather wasn’t totally responsible for this new look.

“Oh my God!
Come in hun,” said Zoe, giving
her a hug. Vana’s sore eyes glanced round the hallway. “Where is everyone?” she
asked in a quiet voice.

“Aunt
Sally’s in the lounge; everyone else has gone out shopping. Let’s get these
bags upstairs,” said Zoe, as she hung Vana’s jacket on the peg. Vana wasn’t her
normal bubbly self as she slowly climbed the stairs. Zoe pushed opened the
bathroom door and turned on the shower.

“I’ll
unpack – you take a hot shower.”

“Thank
you,” Vana mouthed, as she headed into the steamy bathroom. Vana gradually lost
her worries as the hot water ran over her sores. Her back had a huge purple
bruise which started just above her left hip and spread towards the shoulder
blade. There she stayed fixated in time.

3

Zoe
checked on her aunt on the way to the washing machine with Vana’s drenched
clothes.

“How
is she?”

“She’s
taking a shower.”

“That’s
good. I’ve just ordered your pizza. We’ll have to leave about 5.30 to be on
time for the auction.”

“Thanks.
Hopefully that should cheer her up,” said Zoe thoughtfully. “I think Matthew’s
hit her.”

“The poor lass.”

“I’ll
try and hide it with make-up.”

“I
won’t draw attention to it, dear. It’ll just make her feel ten times worse.
That boy...”

“I
know.”

4

The
pizza arrived and was duly eaten. Vana just sat in her own little world, eating
slowly. The flavours did their best to cheer her up upon hitting the palate –
but the pizza just didn’t taste the same.

The
trio arrived on time for the auction at Sotheby’s, and were greeted by Kyle
Roth, who led them to four reserved seats. “Let’s hope the right bidders are in
the room,” said Kyle.

“My
fingers are firmly crossed, but I’ll be happy if they only make three-quarters
of their estimate,” smiled Sally.

“I’m
sure they’ll prove to be very popular,” said Kyle.

With
catalogues in hand, they sat down on the plush chairs. The room was packed with
bidders, who were all hoping to walk away with prized antiques and
collectables. The crowd consisted mainly of smartly dressed, well-to-do people,
including, of course, one or two celebrities dotted around the room.

“Isn’t
that the football pundit from the telly,” said Vana, pointing discreetly.

“Yep.
Teddy Carr,” replied Zoe. The
former footballer had made his name playing for his home-town team, Bristol
City, before ending his career at Fulham. Although he had put on a few pounds
since retiring in the mid-90s he still attracted the ladies’ attention. He
mimicked James Bond as he stood against the wall, modelling a tailored black
tuxedo, and wearing a Rolex Submariner on his wrist.

The
auctioneer – a grey-haired man, wearing a grey suit and navy tie – arrived, to
be greeted by a short round of applause. Without delay, the auction began. The
paintings were to be sold in separate lots, with only three paintings per
auction – so as not to flood the market. A couple of lots later, and Aunt Sally
was feeling the heat. “I hope it’s not much longer,” she said, fanning her face
with the programme. Zoe scanned the list until her finger reached three
hand-drawn stars highlighting the paintings. “Not long to go now,” she replied,
with excitement plastered over her face.

5

Three
ushers entered behind the auctioneer, each holding a Charles St Claire.
“Finally,” remarked Sally. “We now have the first of three lots by the renowned
artist, Charles St Claire,” said the auctioneer. The crowd marvelled at the
three paintings.
“Lot 36 – a delightful painting of Bristol
Harbour, incorporating the River Avon.
I have to start the bidding, with
me, at £250,000.”

Zoe
put her arm round Vana, and Sally gently nudged Kyle, who smiled. The bidding
rollercoaster began with hands flying up all around the room. Sally and Zoe
could not stop smiling as the bidding unfolded, and their excitement rubbed off
on Vana. The figure kept on rising until it reached £470,000 – sold to Teddy
Carr.

“Wow!”
said Zoe.

“That’s
a lot of cash,” Vana added.

“Thank
you, Kyle.”

“You’re
welcome, Sally. That’s just the start – I know Mr Carr is desperate to land
these paintings,” replied Kyle.

The
auctioneer wasted no time.
“Lot 37 – Clifton Suspension
Bridge, Bristol.
I have to start the bidding, with me, at £125,000.” The
work of art was a small, desirable painting of the Avon Gorge. A flurry of
raised catalogues soon dominated the girls’ eye-lines. The painting finally
sold for £325,000, again to a delighted Teddy Carr.

“The
final Charles St Claire, lot 38 – Bristol Temple Meads Railway Station. I have
to start off with me, at £175,000.” The same bidders once again went to war,
but there was only going to be one winner. As the wives of Carr’s competitors
gently showed their displeasure at the crazy figures, bidding finally concluded
at £225,000, with Teddy once more the winner.

With
the paintings sold, the quartet moved towards the exit. Kyle said his goodbyes.
“Right, that’s my work done for today. What a fab result! I’ll be in touch,” he
remarked, as he left the building. With the three paintings making just over a
cool million, it meant that, after fees, Sally walked away with £642,600.

6

“All
this excitement has made me desperate for a pee,” said Vana. “I’ll join you,”
replied Zoe. Sally gave them both a hug. “Thank you for making me
feel
whole again. Right, I’ll go and get us a taxi.” The girls
didn’t really know what she meant, but she was obviously happy. Vana could not
wait a further minute; she was ready to burst! She charged into the toilets and
found an empty cubicle. Zoe started to refresh her make-up in the mirror.

“Vana,
please tell me what happened.” There was a moment of silence. “All I’ll say
is...” she stopped, hesitantly, “he’s not the same since that night. Can we
just leave it be; I don’t want the thought of him to ruin our evening. Let’s
just enjoy tonight, please.”

“Enough
said.”

The
main door opened and a lady walked in.

“Zoe,
you still here?” asked Vana.

“Yep.”

“You
know, I can’t fuckin’ believe they made over a million!” Zoe smiled at the
woman, and mouthed
sorry,
but that remark gave her hope that the old
Vana was returning.

7

9.48
pm – Sally was tucked-up in bed, reading. On the dresser were three white
envelopes, addressed to Zoe, James, and Vana, each containing cheques. They
didn’t contain a vast amount of money, but just enough to say
thank you
.
She planned on setting up trust accounts for them all once the remainder of the
paintings had been sold.

Downstairs,
Jim and Zoe were playing on the PlayStation, Mary reading a magazine, and James
asleep in the armchair.

“Where’s
Vana?” asked Mary.

“She
went up to the bathroom. I’ll go and check to see if she’s alright. You don’t
mind do you, dad?”

“No;
I’ll never beat that time away!”

“I
won’t be long.”

She
jogged up the stairs, stopped, and crept into her bedroom. Vana was asleep on
the bed. Zoe soon noticed mascara tears on Vana’s cheeks as she gently tucked
in the duvet.

“That
you, Zoe?” called Sally.

“Yes,”
whispered Zoe, entering Sally’s room. “Can I get you anything?”

“No,
you’re alright dear. Vana OK?”

“Yes,
she’s taking a nap,” she replied as she walked out of the room and down the
stairs.

A
moment later, the landing light gently flickered and a dark shadow moved
quickly down the stairs and into Zoe’s bedroom. The shadow materialised into
Charder. He placed his left hand over Vana’s feet before it hovered above her
belly. After a brief pause he touched her face gently, making her fringe move.

8

11.03
pm – Central London. Teddy Carr came out of a lively bar and walked across the
street towards a grey Aston Martin DBS. He unlocked the car and got in. He
swiftly undid his black bow tie, checked his face in the vanity mirror, and
rubbed away red lipstick from his mouth and cheeks. Popping a mint into his
mouth, he placed his iPhone on the dashboard.

“FaceTime,
wife,” he said. His video image appeared on the bottom left-hand corner of the
phone and it wasn’t long before his wife, an attractive thirty-something
blonde, lit up the screen.

“Hello,”
said a tired voice.

“I
didn’t wake you, did I love?”

“No,”
she lied, “I’ve just got the twins off to sleep. Did you win them?”

“Yes
– they’re in the boot. I’m just on my way home,” he replied; he couldn’t stop
smiling. His wife started to squint. She stared over his left shoulder.

“Who’s
that with you?”

“No-one.
I’m on my own; why?” he
replied, with a puzzled expression.

“Then
who’s that old, tatty-looking woman on the back seat?”

THE
END