The sceptic, p.18
The Sceptic, page 18
Jem pulls Lottie away from the door as I issue a series of battering runs against the door. Pain shoots through my shoulder and panic stirs when it still doesn’t move.
Mia suddenly screams. “Oh my god.”
“What is it?” Jem shouts as I hurl myself against the door. “Mia, talk to me.”
“I need to get out of here.” Her voice is hysterical. “Something fucking growled at me. Help me, Will. Get me out of here.” She sobs. “Please, Will.”
“Fucking piece of shit,” I growl, fully angry now. “Let her go. Mia, get out of the way.”
I lift my foot and, putting all my weight into it, I kick the door. I’m expecting nothing to happen, but instead, the whole door splinters and half comes off its hinges. I fall forward, and Jem holds me steady. Then he quickly pushes the door open, keeping his body against it as if expecting it to shut again. He grabs Mia and almost hurls her out of the room, following her out into the hallway. I get a glimpse of a chaotic mess inside with pieces of plastic everywhere and toys littering the floor.
With a whoosh, the door slams shut in my face.
I take a swift step back. The door bangs open and shut a few times—the action almost petulant—and finally comes to a stop.
The silence is deafening until Mia bursts into sobs. The others crowd around her, hugging her as she cries. “Something was in there,” she sobs. “It growled at me. I want to go home.” She looks small and diminished somehow, with none of her usual bravado.
Pity stirs in me. Jem brushes my hand with his. “You okay?” he asks.
I give a shaky nod. “You?”
He nods, his usually lively face unexpectedly stern. “I don’t like this,” he mutters. “That flying plastic could have hurt her. Not to mention the growling. What the fuck is happening in this house?”
“Growling is usually demonic,” I whisper, and his eyes widen.
Then Mia is in front of me. She hurls herself into my arms. “Thank you, Will,” she whispers. Her body is quivering with fright and there’s no trace of her former arrogance. I feel a wave of protective fury.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “You’re okay.”
I rock her for a bit while Jem strokes her hair. She throws her other arm around him, and the three of us stand in an awkward embrace while the others stand next to us.
Finally, she calms a little and pulls back. “I’ve made a mess of your shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s got forty more black ones,” Jem says, and I roll my eyes at him.
She gives a hiccupping sob, and I push her hair back off her wet face. “You okay now?”
She nods. “I was just so frightened.”
“No wonder,” Jem says comfortingly. “I’d have shit myself.” She gives a watery smile, and he eyes her. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was in there tidying our sleeping bags away and I went to leave. I tried to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t move. It was like it was locked but there isn’t a lock on the door. And then you know the rest. I got panicky.” She pauses, a look of fear on her face. “The more panicky I got, the more I felt that whatever it is was pleased. Then it growled.”
“Where did the growl come from?” Ben says, stepping gingerly into the bedroom. Liam immediately positions himself at the door so it doesn’t slam shut and trap Ben in the room. That one small action tells me how far we’ve stepped away from the everyday world and into something very dark and shadowy.
“It came from under the little girl’s bed,” Mia says.
“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” Jem mutters, and I nod.
Ben reappears. “Nothing,” he says. He comes over to Mia. “I’m so sorry, Mia. This is all my fault.”
She pulls away from me and hugs him. “I don’t think it helped,” she says into his shoulder. “But I’ve got a feeling this would have happened anyway. I think the house is charging itself up.”
“Nevertheless, I should never have done that.” He sounds shaken, all his usual fervour gone leaving him diminished.
“I think she’s right,” Jem says, leaning against the wall next to me. I feel his warmth and inhale the scent of his cologne. It’s peculiarly comforting.
Mia looks at him gratefully and then gazes up at Ben. “I’m so sorry, but I’m going. I can’t stay here.”
“What are you sorry for?” he immediately says. “I think it’s the right thing to do.” He looks at Lottie and we all register the fact that she has her bag over her shoulder. “Are you going with her?” She nods, her face pale with no trace of the excitement she’d once had. “Good,” he says. “I think that’s for the best.” He kisses Lottie’s forehead. “I want you safe,” he whispers. “I’ll ring you when the lockdown is over, yes?”
Lottie nods. “Why don’t you come too?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says simply. “I promised the family.”
“But you could get hurt, Ben. This poltergeist isn’t playing around anymore.”
“I’ll be here,” Liam says immediately. “I won’t leave him, Lottie.”
She nods reluctantly and leans on Ben letting him hug her.
“Be careful,” Mia whispers to us. “Please. That was frightening, and it was purposeful. I don’t want to be around anything that takes such pleasure in people’s fear. And I don’t want to get hurt because I think that’s its main aim.” She looks around, her face haunted. “I’m never coming here again, and I can’t wait to leave.”
She’s as good as her word, and within half an hour, the girls are packed up and getting into Lottie’s car.
“Be careful,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss Lottie’s cheek.
She pats my hand. “No, you be careful, Will. And please look after them. Look after Jem. He’s a bit of a daredevil, and I don’t think he’s one for running away from things.”
“He’d be running towards it with his camera going,” I say glumly.
She gives me a watery smile. “Well, it’s good that he’s got you at his back, then.”
With a final round of goodbyes, they set off, and the car disappears around the corner, leaving us standing in front of the house. Ben and Liam eventually wander back into the house, and Jem shakes his head. “Is it wrong to wish we were going too?”
I look searchingly at him. “We can. Just say the word, and we’ll get out of here right now.”
He looks torn and regretful. “I can’t, Will. I have a job to do, and I’ve made promises.” He pauses, and I smile at him. I have a feeling that even if he hadn’t made a promise, he would still be here. The lure of capturing something on camera is powerful in him. I suppose that’s why he’s won awards. It’s that combination of patience and daring that’s so strong in him. It’s what worries me most about him being in that house. He grabs my hand, his fingers drifting over my palm and making me shiver. “But you can forget about this. Take my car and go back to York.”
I frown. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“I sort of want you to.”
I draw back, stung. I take a stumbling step as he throws his arms around me, his body warm against mine. “Because I want you safe,” he says fiercely. “And I don’t think this place is safe anymore.”
“Neither do I,” I say sombrely. “I know Ben thinks this is a poltergeist but I’m not sure that’s true, Jem.”
He doesn’t look startled, so I know he’s had his own suspicions. “Why?” he asks.
I look up at the house and shake my head. “Everything I’ve read says that poltergeists are mischievous spirits, but this is something different. This is something that’s… bad.” I flush at the silly word, but he nods his head.
“I know,” he says, and I sag in relief that he believes me. “But that makes it even more important that I stay. I don’t think Ben is thinking straight at the moment. He’s too obsessed with proving it’s real to worry about whether it’s dangerous. And Liam won’t leave him. You heard him promise Lottie.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” I say, hugging him close. “I made promises too.”
“Ben won’t care.”
“Not to him,” I say steadily. “I made them to myself about you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe, Jem.”
He stares at me, his eyes dark and his face tired and pale. “How about we keep each other safe?”
I nod. “I can do that.”
And just like that, the disagreement is over. I can’t help comparing it to arguments I’d had with Jason, who would have kept it going for hours.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JEM
Going back into the house is strange. Once more, it’s sunny and quiet, and it’s incredibly disorientating. It’s as if everything that’s just happened was a dream.
Ben and Liam head into the dining room, and we drift after them. Ben still seems very subdued; he slides onto a seat at the table and slumps against Liam. His face is tense and unhappy, making the scar on his cheek stand out.
Liam hugs him close with one hand while pushing his laptop in front of him. “Come on,” he urges. “We’ve got things to do.”
“Maybe that should be to leave here before I do any more damage,” Ben mutters.
Liam shoots him an affectionate glance. “Let’s review the footage,” he says softly. “Then we can decide what to do next. But we don’t need to leave.” Ben looks up at him and he nods encouragingly. “We just need to be careful from now on. We can’t provoke something we don’t understand.”
“This is why I need the society,” Ben says, thrusting a hand through his hair and making it stand up like a cockatoo. “You know that.”
Liam nods. “I do. You haven’t done anything that other ghost groups don’t do all the time.”
“So why do I feel so bad?”
“Because it was the wrong thing to do. It’s the sensationalist approach, and I know you. You always go for the higher ground.” He taps the laptop. “So, let’s review the footage and see if there’s anything we missed. Then let’s get on with doing this the way it should be done. We need to remember that the important aspect of a ghost hunt isn’t the dead, Ben. It’s the living.”
Ben looks at him for a long second and then nods. “Okay,” he says softly. He nudges Liam. “You always know the right thing to say. Why is that?”
“Because it’s you,” Liam says softly but Ben has opened the laptop and is already engrossed. Liam looks up and I smile at him.
“Anything you need us to do in here?”
“I don’t think so. I think we’ll be fine. This job won’t take more than the two of us.”
I turn to Will. “So, what shall we do? Shall we call out for the ghost ourselves?”
He shakes his head, and relief sweeps through me. I’m surprisingly reluctant to go upstairs again. “I think I’m going to clean up the mess upstairs, and then if I can borrow your car, I’ll go out and get another door.”
“Good idea.” Suddenly, the idea of being away from this house seems like the best idea that’s ever been. “I’ll come with you,” I say. I look at Liam. “If you think you’ll be okay.”
Liam waves a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. We’re together and the house feels quiet again anyway.”
He’s not wrong I think looking around. Everything is very peaceful. Nevertheless, I point my finger at him. “Don’t do anything silly and if anything feels off you need to get out straightaway.”
“Okay, Daddy,” he says in a demure voice, and I narrow my eyes.
“You need a good spanking, Liam. Sadly for you, I’m off the market in that department.” He chuckles and I turn to Will. “So, we can both go. What do you think?”
He looks shyly pleased. He covers it with a casual shrug, but my warm feeling doesn’t fade.
“That would be great,” he says. We smile at each other for a long second.
Liam clears his throat and then drops me a wink, chuckling and ignoring my narrowing eyes.
“Okay.” I clap my hands. “Will and Jem’s Road Trip is on.”
Will rolls his eyes. “We’re going to B and Q. It hardly makes us Bill Bryson.”
“Don’t be so glib, Sweet William. We’re going at the same time as the pensioners. It’s a dangerous business because they’re a vicious breed of people. Last week one ran a trolley into my legs and told me off for being in the way.” My words are falling out of me in a garbled mess, and I feel almost giddy at the idea of not being here for a bit. I grab my car keys and brandish them at Will. “Times a wasting. Let’s go before Walter makes the front door vanish.”
Everyone groans. “Don’t give him ideas,” Liam mutters.
After saying goodbye to Ben and Liam, we walk out of the house, and I rush to get into the car.
“Are we setting land speed records?” Will asks.
“I really want to be away from this fucking place for a bit,” I confess.
“I know. I feel the same.” His brow furrows.
We climb into the car and fasten our seat belts. “Can you look up the postcode of the nearest B and Q?” I ask as I start the engine. He gives me an awkward glance. “Will?”
He scratches his head. “I’ll need to borrow your phone then. Mine’s a cheap pay as you go with no data.”
I want to fucking kick myself. Of course, he hasn’t got an expensive phone. The man was homeless up to a year ago. I’m a fucking tool.
He laughs. “I don’t think we quite have time for all your tragic remorse. Not when we could stop at Starbucks on the way.”
My shoulders ease in relief. I’m glad he wasn’t offended. Then his words register. “Oh my god. No fairer words have ever been said, William,” I say fervently. “Coffee.”
“It was hardly Maeve Binchy. I’m sure you’ve heard many sweeter words over the years.” His tone makes it seem like a question.
I check my phone for the postcode and input it to the sat nav. I check my mirrors and pull out before answering his unspoken question. “I’ve had a few. I have to admit I haven’t used many myself though.”
I glance in my rear-view mirror watching as the house gets smaller until it’s finally hidden by the trees lining the avenue. “God, I’m so glad to be away from there,” I say fervently, and he makes a sound of agreement.
I sneak a look at him. The breeze from the open window ruffles his black hair around his face. He looks warm and rumpled and still. He rarely fidgets unlike me, and I’ve noticed that he always seems rooted in the moment, easy at going with the flow. A deep feeling for him surges inside me. I’d say all the sweet things in the world to him and suddenly that seems like the most terrifying thing in the world.
I toss him my phone. “Put some music on.”
I concentrate on the road as he scrolls through my Spotify making an approving noise every so often. Finally, he settles on “Eat, Sleep, Wake” by Bombay Bicycle Club.
I shoot him a look. “You like this one?” It feels so nice to have a normal conversation and I’m filled with the need to keep it going until it drives away the memory of a dark bathroom and something monstrous panting in the corner.
“I always have. We saw them live once in a little club in Hamburg. They were amazing.”
I wonder who he was with and my stomach twists. I realise with a shock that for the first time in my life I’m actually jealous.
“Who’s we?” I ask in a hopefully casual voice. I glance at him and his mouth twitches. Not so casual it seems. “Oh, shut up,” I say, and he laughs.
“A mate of mine from a squat decided to hitchhike through Europe back to his family in Poland. Blue and I went with him some of the way.” He shrugs. “We had nothing else to do. It was a good laugh although slightly alarming at times.”
I frown. “How so?”
“The amount of very strange people who hang around railway stations never ceases to amaze me. We used to kip on benches if we could get away with it, and once, I woke up in France to someone trying to steal my shoelaces.”
“Not your shoes?”
“Nope. He got very indignant when I accused him of stealing my shoes. Apparently, he had standards and my footwear didn’t meet them.”
“Burn.”
He laughs.
“I’m glad it wasn’t anything worse,” I say softly, a frown crossing my face. It pains me to think of Will in that time. He’s insouciant about it, but he must have been so scared. He came from the safe world of suburbia and to be thrust out into a world of homelessness and desperation must have been absolutely terrifying.
I stop at a red light and without thinking I reach out my hand. For a second it hovers there, and I think he’s going to ignore it. My cheeks flush and I’m about to pull back when he slides his hand into mine. His hand is big and callused with colourful tattoos flowing down his arm and over the back of his hand and fingers.
My own hand looks almost innocent next to his and I suppose in a way that’s like us. I may have travelled all over the world, but I’ve done it buttressed by a loving family and a good job. I’ve never been on my own the way Will has. I surprise myself by raising his hand to my mouth and drooping a kiss on the butterfly near his thumb.
His breath catches and he stares at me, his light eyes shadowed. “Jem?” There’s a wealth of emotions in his voice—surprise, warmth, lust, and a large amount of caution.
I offer him a careless smile and drop his hand. “What? I happen to like butterflies,” I offer in a bright voice.
His brow creases and then he gives me his peculiarly sweet smile. “Me too. They always seem so free and cheerful.”
The moment seems to slow and stretch like bubble gum. Finally, he licks his lips and I sigh as my cock lengthens in my jeans. “Will?” I say, and he leans towards me only to rear back when a car horn sounds loudly behind us.
“What the fuck?” I lean out of the window. “What?” I yell at the man behind me.
“The lights on green, you fucking tool.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” I say in an aggrieved voice.
Will starts to laugh. I pull away and crow as the light has changed back and the wanker is stuck on red again. Will shakes his head in mock disapproval.
