Blind house, p.18
Blind House, page 18
‘See all good,’ he laughed, ‘these wipes are amazing, I’ve spilt red wine many a time.’
Megan thanked him. At least it wasn’t in the gleaming white sitting room, she had feared doing that the whole time she’d been in the house. Deborah entered the room and handed Megan a fresh drink. Ian turned the TV on and they all sat around excitedly chatting in expectation of the Lewis Lee Show. There was no running for Megan. The night was just beginning and she could only hope that the black dog did not return.
Chapter Forty-Four
Blind House 1878
Number One instinctively dragged herself over to Number Two’s body, knowing nothing could be done. But she placed her hand over the gaping wound in her throat anyway to try and stem the bleeding. She was dead.
‘How moving,’ the Doctor sneered, ‘but you’ve now failed your assessment. You will remain here indefinitely.’
‘She had a son,’ Number One stuttered through her sobs.
‘A son who will grow up more capable now. A son who will thrive with a little tragedy in his life. Look at you, you disgusting thing, covered in someone else’s blood. You need a bath.’
‘Fuck you,’ Number One took the Doctor off guard as she swiped away the Doctor’s legs.
The Doctor crashed to the ground and Number One didn’t waste time straddling the body and squeezing her hands around the Doctor’s throat. The Doctor wrestled back, clawing at the infected sores on Number One’s wrists. She tried to retain her grip despite the sheer pain but she could no longer hold her position sat over the Doctor. Her legs screamed at her. The Doctor felt her weakness and with one thrash, overthrew her.
The Doctor grabbed the bucket of drinking water by the trough and doused Number One with it, ‘I said you need a fucking bath.’
Number One lost her fight and curled up as the icy water stung her sore flesh. She reached out and held Number Two’s hand. She hadn’t expected this. She expected Number Two to go on and get away from here, to be found, to be with her son and husband again. The Doctor cut her down like she was nothing. She thought back to a week ago, the evening she had met the Doctor, before she was captured. She couldn’t have imagined anyone to be capable of this, especially not the Doctor. You put your trust in certain people don’t you and then they surprise you, in the most cruel and sadistic way. Does the Doctor’s family know? Does he know?
‘Right, you need to eat. Let’s see how long we can keep you going for,’ the Doctor said offering a chunk of bread. ‘You can watch the process of your friend here decaying. That’ll be interesting won’t it?’
Number One shook her head, refusing the bread. She started to hyperventilate.
‘Take the bread, you need your strength,’ the Doctor insisted, forcing it into Number One’s hand.
Number One batted it away, sending it skimming across the floor. ‘What was her name?’ She stammered through choked sobs.
‘Ah how precious. I’m impressed that you at least stuck to that rule. But then again you knew you were being watched. It doesn’t matter what she was before. She was a stupid little do-gooder and I saw through her and her vile ulterior motives. Her name? Her name was... Patient Number Two.’ The Doctor laughed a side-splitting laugh.
‘You thought she was vile?’ Number One felt the rage surge through her unable to hold back, ‘You slit her throat, you’re a sadistic fraud and you will burn for this. You will rot in hell, I will fucking make sure of it.’
The Doctor, still laughing, scooped up the chunk of bread from the floor. ‘You will eat this.’
Number One clamped her lips shut as the Doctor tried to force-feed her the bread, pushing it hard against her clamped teeth.
‘Eat it or I’ll make you eat her,’ The Doctor spat pointing to Number Two.
Number One parted her teeth allowing the bread to fill her mouth. As soon as the Doctor stepped away, she heaved and spat, spitting out every filth ridden crumb. The Doctor stormed over to the table and retrieved the knife. Number One scuttled back against the wall. She pressed herself hard against it as if she could just mould into the wall and pass right through it. The Doctor approached her slowly. Number One made one last-ditch effort to get to her feet, her will to survive kicking in. Trying to use the wall for support, she screamed out as pain seared through her legs.
‘How pathetic, perhaps you would like a hand?’ the Doctor mocked offering out a hand.
Number One swiped the hand away, lunging at the Doctor’s middle, screaming as she did. She was met with the knife as it was plunged into her stomach. She dropped to her knees clutching the bleeding wound. ‘We will fucking haunt you,’ she managed to mouth before the Doctor plunged the knife in once more. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she collapsed completely. She pictured the faces of her mom and dad smiling and full of love. There they remained with her until she could think no more, until she could breathe no more.
Chapter Forty-Five
As soon as the live video call on the Lewis Lee Show ended, Deborah rushed out of the lounge and threw herself into the arms of her husband as he left the sitting room. He picked her up and swung her round before she pulled him into the lounge to join the others. As he entered the room, Marc and Ian applauded him so Megan and Sammi joined in.
‘That went well mate,’ Marc said fist pumping Ross.
Ian also got up and patted Ross on the back, ‘Love how you handled that question about the house being haunted, that what’s-his-face soap star bloke person, didn’t know what else to say to that did he, brilliant.’
‘Yeah that was quick witted even for you Ross,’ Marc laughed.
Deborah shot them all a look, ‘Okay, no we don’t want the ghosts to distract from Ross’s achievement but don’t think I’m letting it all lie and disappear. The spirits in this house need justice. The truth will out, I’ll make sure of it.
‘Jesus Debo-’ Ross tried to say.
‘No, let’s not argue about this tonight my love, besides, we have guests.’ Deborah snapped and her word on the matter was final.
‘So is this house actually haunted,’ Sammie chirped up, ‘It’s not just a publicity stunt?’
Ross confirmed that they all believed that the house was haunted, that too many strange things had happened that they couldn’t account for, but that Megan had now cleansed the house so hopefully that was the end of it. ‘I did not want it in the press though,’ he barely said in a whisper in Sammie’s ear, fully aware that Deborah was stood right there listening.
‘Oh the dinner,’ Deborah gasped.
She rushed to the kitchen and everyone followed. Deborah flung open the oven door to be met with a bellow of smoke.
‘Didn’t time that well, did I?’ Deborah coughed as the smoke plumed past her.
Megan zoned out from the laughter and bustle around her as she watched fingers of smoke claw their way upwards- actual fingers. The fingers rolled and clawed up and up until they curled into fists, swirled and vanished.
‘You alright?’ Marc asked her. ‘Told you, don’t worry about spilt wine. Hey, it brings new meaning doesn’t it to smoked salmon,’ he laughed gesturing over to the blackened side of salmon now resting on the worktop.
Megan feigned a smile. Deborah had declared to hell with it and started taking pizzas out from the freezer.
‘Guess Inspector Dark’s body will have to be his temple from tomorrow,’ Ross laughed patting his firm abs.
Sammie was straight in there helping Deborah unbox the pizzas and disposing of the packaging and asking what else she could do to help. Megan felt a twinge of envy. She admired how her sister was so naturally sociable and mingled and fitted in with ease. She could have been a friend of the family for years. For once, Megan wished she could be more like that without cringing to herself pretty much every time she spoke. Ian handed her a glass of champagne and she gratefully took it.
‘To the new Inspector Dark,’ Ian cheered raising his glass.
Everyone joined in the cheers and Megan felt the light bubbles dance on her tongue. She couldn’t imagine how much this bottle had cost remembering the shock of the brandy. The next ten minutes was spent with Marc reading out reactions from Ross’s twitter feed. Ross’s phone had also started to go off from celebrity friends wishing him well. Sammie pulled Megan down to sit next to her at the table and squealed in her ear that she had to keep pinching herself and thanked her again for bringing her here.
Megan knew why she was feeling uneasy- it was seeing that dog again. Something wasn’t feeling right and everything began to feel negative. It wasn’t long ago that Sammie was on Facebook publicly saying that she didn’t care when she thought Megan was a missing person. Now she was her best friend. They wouldn’t be speaking now if she hadn’t been invited to Ross Huston’s house. But that was okay wasn’t it? Megan tried to shift the negativity, Megan had done a terrible thing, it was okay that her sister hated her for it, wasn’t it? Would Sammie want to stay in touch once Megan finished working for the Huston’s or would she simply cut her off again?
‘So where are you living now?’ Sammie asked Megan, ‘you’ll have to give me your address so I can come and visit and stuff.’
It’s as if Sammie had read her mind. She felt a small wash of relief at the thought that her sister would keep in touch. But she didn’t have a home. She had nowhere to live yet.
‘Just tell her the truth,’ Marc piped up after overhearing the conversation.
The room went silent. It’s doesn’t matter how noisy a room full of chatter is, you can bet everyone will hear a word which might spark gossip. Like the word truth. Now all ears wanted to hear what this truth was. Megan started to feel hot and briefly thought about punching Marc in the face again.
‘What?’ Sammie asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ Megan replied firmly.
‘She’s family,’ Marc pushed, ‘she might be able to help. You’re in quite a bit of shit to be fair aren’t you?’
Megan glared at Marc, shaking her head at him.
‘Well?’ Sammie asked.
Megan wasn’t ready to discuss her private issues with her sister. She didn’t want her sympathy or for Sammie to feel there was another motive for her getting in touch. People are too quick to think that an estranged family member would only be getting in touch for money, and that wasn’t the case. There were good reasons why Sammie would not care for Megan’s problems. It’s all very well Marc sticking his nose in trying to help but he didn’t know the full story, he didn’t know what Megan did to her family all those years ago. She deserved her bad luck and that’s all there was to it.
‘Megan’s homeless,’ Marc said with some compassion after Megan hadn’t answered.
‘What? Why? What’s happened?’ Sammie clasped Megan’s hand.
Megan pulled her hand away, it felt like her skin was on fire, she was getting so hot. Ross, Deborah and Ian closed in around her.
‘It’s nothing, I- I just- it’s just that- I’m trying to- things have-’ Megan stumbled over her words thinking how best to word it all.
‘She escaped her abusive arse of a boyfriend and has been living in her car?’ Marc clarified.
Now Megan really wanted to punch him and then she wanted the floor to swallow her up.
‘It was just for one night, the night before Ross contacted me. I will find somewhere, I just haven’t had the time yet, I’ve been here working,’ Megan said meekly.
‘Bloody hell sis,’ Sammie put her arm round Megan, ‘Did you not have money for a hotel?’
‘Reading between the lines, I think that fella of hers bled her dry,’ Marc scoffed.
‘Jesus, what did he do to you?’ Sammie asked.
Megan felt her eyes stinging and distracted herself by taking a big gulp of champagne.
‘Can I just fill you in later? Now isn’t the time, but honestly I’m okay and it’s all fine.’ Megan stood up and walked over to the oven, ‘Shall I help take the pizzas out, they look done.’
Ross followed her and put an arm round her, ‘We had no idea you were in a mess. I know what it’s like to have nothing, I’ve been there, I’ve been vulnerable like you. Don’t be too proud to ask for help. If I can help, I will.’ He wiped an imaginary tear away from the corner of Megan’s eye.
Deborah brushed past them and opened the oven door with force, ordering Ian to help ready the plates. Marc grabbed some bags of prepared salad out of the fridge and set the table. Once the pizzas were sliced and dished out, everyone got stuck in. Megan however found her mouthful of pepperoni hard to swallow. The atmosphere had changed and now she felt like everyone was looking at her differently, especially Ross who now couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
Chapter Forty-Six
‘We need music,’ Deborah sang, pirouetting over to the stereo. She cranked the music up.
‘We’ve just got rid of the ghosts; don’t think we need to wake the dead again do you?’ Ross laughed covering his ears.
‘We’re celebrating aren’t we?’ Deborah grabbed her drink with one hand and pulled Sammie up from her chair with the other.
They both danced around each other whilst singing along to the tune. Megan could tell that Sammie was no stranger to the dance floor. Partying was just another thing that Megan had little experience of. Ross got up to grab another bottle of wine. Marc leaned into Megan, pointed over to Ross and whispered, ‘watch him.’ Before Megan could reply, Marc had walked away and headed out of the kitchen.
Ross waved the bottle at Megan and she shook her head.
‘Honestly no more for me, I’m still on duty. I’ve work to do later, remember,’ Megan covered her glass, denying access to it.
‘Well why don’t you take the night off, let’s forget these blasted ghosts.’
Megan was a bit taken a back. He had been nothing but desperate to ensure that the ghosts were gone earlier. ‘I’d rather we stuck to the plan. If we do a séance tonight and I sense that the spirits have really moved on then wouldn’t that put your mind at rest quicker? You could get onto the press and tell them there are no more ghosts.’
‘Like Deborah is going to ever let it lie, no matter what.’ Ross looked over at his wife and let out a sigh, ‘You’re right though, the sooner I’m sure I won’t have any more knives thrown at me the better.’
Megan could have easily told him then at that moment that she was sure that wouldn’t happen again. Little did he know that it was really Marc, his best friend, throwing the knives. But she bit her tongue once more. ‘Besides,’ she said, ‘I really need to leave tomorrow.’
‘You can stay another night if it helps you out. Can’t have you sleeping in your car.’
‘No,’ Megan answered a bit too abruptly, ‘With what you’ve paid me, I can get a B&B. Honestly, I’m keen to get myself sorted. I’ll be leaving first thing.’
‘I meant what I said earlier, you’re a breath of fresh air. Your boyfriend sounds like a complete dick. Who’d want to hurt you?’
All Megan could do was shrug. This conversation wasn’t going to continue. She came here to work, not to get personal. The kindness the Huston’s had shown her had blown her away, she looked over again to her sister and pinched herself, but she wasn’t one of them and had no intention of exposing her life any further.
‘C’mon, one more drink. At least enjoy yourself before things get serious looking for ghosts.’ Ross aimed the bottle at her glass once more.
Again, she refused him, blocking access to her glass. Ross placed the bottle down in defeat then took her hands, encouraging her to stand up and dance with him. Megan resisted but Ross was not going to give in so she relented, at least this way the conversation would end. He spun her round and she did so awkwardly, he then wrapped both of his arms around her and swayed with her in time to the beat. Megan felt uncomfortable at first but then she surprised herself by relaxing into his embrace. It had been a long time- too long to remember, since Megan felt the warmth of a real hug, one with genuine affection. She’d had mate hugs off Christina but being wrapped up right now in a man’s strong arms felt good. Megan wished Christina could be here for this, she’d go nuts. Megan was dancing with The Ross Huston. For a moment and just for a moment, this is how she felt and then reality kicked her. She didn’t want to dance around in strong arms, she didn’t need it. She needed to be on her guard, so she pulled away from him and went back to her chair but not before feeling Deborah’s icy glare on her back.
Megan puzzled once more over Ross and Deborah’s relationship. Deborah said that they had an open relationship but why did it feel that she was now throwing daggers at her because Ross was showing her some attention. Surely it’s not a big deal? Perhaps she was imagining it she thought. She watched Ian joining in, dancing around the other three and Sammie showed no sign of letting up, shimmying and grinding her hips. Megan grabbed the bottle of wine from the table and poured herself a measure, just one more wouldn’t hurt, she hoped it would just be enough to cloud her thoughts a little, but not too much.
Marc re-entered the room and joined her at the table, ‘You okay?’ he asked her.
Megan nodded and pushed the bottle of wine in his direction. He helped himself to a glass.
‘I’ve said it before,’ Marc said, ‘but you and your sister are so different.’
‘You shouldn’t have told her my business. I wish you hadn’t.’
‘Thought I was helping.’
‘She hates me, you know, she’s hated me for years. I don’t want her sympathy. I don’t deserve it.’ Megan was suddenly aware that she was slurring a little. Perhaps she had already had a little too much and she instantly regretted what she’d just said.
‘So you’re just gonna punish yourself forever? Leave the ghosts of the past behind. Join the living, live a little.’
Both Megan and Marc looked up with a start as the others erupted into a loud jeer as Ian presented a bottle of Sambuca and insisted on drinking games.
