With her eyes closed, Matilda leaned her head against the chairback and rested her hands on the arms. “You know, even
I
think I’m mad, so if you end up thinking the same…” She sighed and opened her eyes, staring at the wall ahead. “Okay. It was the other night I had the first one. Only short, but it had me and you in it. I was some whorehouse madam, can you believe that?” An unsteady laugh burst out of her and she palmed her face from brow to chin. “Anyway, that one didn’t have much substance, but the one I had last night…” She shuddered and took the coffee Amelia handed to her. “You’d killed the man I saw outside earlier. Slit his throat in his carriage, and you gave me some jewels. Me and this other woman—never seen her before in my life. So then you went upstairs in your place and it was so weird, because it was bigger than it is now. Like, it had several more rooms upstairs. I’m getting ahead of myself here.” Her lips trembled and she dragged in a large breath.
Amelia sat in the rocker, coffee cup hot against her hands. She smiled for encouragement.
After releasing a long breath, Matilda continued. “Well, this guy came in—carriage driver, I think—and I served him and the woman tea. I remember wondering where you were, because you’d said you were packing your bags, so I went upstairs. That’s when I saw the extra rooms. I went into the attic and found you on the bed.” She looked across at Amelia, tears filling her eyes. “Dead. You were fucking dead, and it was so real, you know? I felt for a pulse then ran around the attic not knowing what to do, and the panic inside me! Shit, you’d have thought it’d really happened.”
It did. I’m sure of it.
“Go on.”
“Well, I stopped at the window, stared outside and saw the carriage, and I hated that man inside, wanted to go out there and kill him. I didn’t know you’d done it at this point, but I went down there with the intent to strangle him. God, I haven’t felt rage like that in a long time. Really horrible, it was. So I went back downstairs, relieved the woman and man were too busy chatting to take much notice, and outside to the carriage. I swung open the door and everything went in slow motion. You know the way it does in dreams? Like everything is heard through this syrupy thickness? This guy, he’d had his throat slit, and I knew you’d done it, knew why but didn’t, if you see what I mean.” She sipped her coffee. “I can’t explain what I mean. My dream self seemed to know why, but me, the person I am now, questioned why in the dream, but only for a second.”
Matilda shook her head, her lips tweaking upward in a wry grin. “Told you I’d sound nuts.”
Amelia scooted forward, ass perched on the edge of her seat. “No, carry on. What happened next?” Her heart thudded dully and she swallowed, wanting the butterflies in her tummy to disappear.
The redhead stared into space. “I searched the carriage. Again, I knew why yet didn’t. And I found a pouch of jewels. I stuffed them inside my dress neckline and returned indoors. The driver guy rose and I remember panicking, knowing he’d see the dead man out there and think I’d done it. He wouldn’t listen when I told him to stay inside a while longer. Thinking about it, he must have sensed I was hiding something. He went outside and I followed him. When he looked inside the carriage, he turned to face me and my God, his face! He was so angry and he grabbed me right here.” She mimicked his action, fisting her T-shirt. “I wrenched away from him, ran around the side of the house and he chased me. Shit, it was so
real
. I can’t tell you how real it was.” She glanced at Amelia. “It was like I’d lived it before.”
Amelia reached out a hand to Matilda. Her friend took it, and they sat for a little while in silence. Amelia stared at the floor and sorted through everything she’d been told so far, admitting the shocking truth that somehow what she’d dreamed was true. It
had
happened in the past. How else could Matilda have dreamed the same scenario? Unless Turner’s Point was some wacky place where weird things happened?
I’d bet my last dollar this kind of thing didn’t go on before I moved here.
A clock in the shop ticked loudly. Faint voices and brisk footsteps from shoppers filtered into their vacuum, followed by a raucous shout. Matilda’s shuddering exhalation broke Amelia’s reverie.
“I went around the back and into the kitchen.” Matilda paused, a tiny sigh escaping from her. “It was way bigger than it is now. Almost double the size. I grabbed a poker from beside this huge fireplace and waited behind the door. He came in and I smacked him on the back of the head. He stumbled forward, headfirst into the grate. God, he screamed, scrambled out, hair and jacket on fire. Ran about trying to pat out the flames. He must have knocked some wood out onto the rug, because it caught fire too. The woman came in. She must have wondered what the hell was going on, what with that guy wailing and me standing by that door unable to move. She took control and shouted at me to get a bucket. I ran outside to fetch one and the man followed, clutching at his hair and face, fire still all over him and his clothes.” She swallowed, shuddering. “I never want to smell burning flesh again. He ran around to the front of the cottage, his screams growing fainter. I didn’t have time to go after him. Together, me and the woman tried to put the fire out, but it had taken hold, creeping up the damn walls. And the smoke! We had to get out, go and get help, but luckily three men turned up asking if any whores were available.”
“Did they help put it out?” Amelia asked.
Matilda nodded. “Yes, but not before it had gone through the ceiling to the upper floor. Two stayed with us. The other went for more help. When it arrived—seven more men, I think—we worked to put the flames out, obviously saving the part of your cottage that exists now.”
Amelia stared at her coffee. “And what happened to the carriage driver?”
With a shrug, Matilda said, “While the woman gave the men drinks, I went to look for him, but he wasn’t there. I can only assume he ran into town or off the cliff. The carriage was there, that dead guy still inside. I was surprised at that. Thought the horse would have bolted because of the smoke. So I…I led the horse toward the cliff, as close as it could go. Now don’t ask me how I did this next bit without being sick, but I went to the rear of the carriage and dragged that man out and hauled him off the cliff. I knew if I didn’t there would be trouble. Knew if someone saw him… Christ, I can see it all in my head, feel everything I felt in the dream.”
“What happened then?” Amelia stood and placed her cup on the sideboard then returned to the rocker.
“I thanked the men, paid them for their time and sent them on their way. I pulled the jewel pouch out of my bodice and gave four more to the woman—God, I don’t even know her name—and she climbed onto the carriage’s outer seat, saying she’d tell people at the castle they had been waylaid by bandits. I assume the guy you killed lived in it?”
Amelia nodded. “He did. And the woman was Helena.” She went on to explain her dreams, tears filling her eyes when she came to the telling of Emmett not returning. “It’s so surreal, isn’t it? Talking like this, I mean.”
Matilda bobbed her head and stood to sluice her cup out in the sideboard sink. “In the dream, I stashed the jewels in the basement, behind a water barrel. There was a loose wall brick there.” She chuckled. “You don’t even have a damn basement.”
“Uh, I do.”
“What?” Matilda spun to face Amelia. “Are you kidding me?” She staggered back and sat in the chair. “Christ. I wonder if they’re still there.”
Graham appeared in the doorway, his jeans and shirt looking alien on him.
Amelia sucked in a breath, her heart throbbing painfully.
He smirked, tossing aside a streak of oiled hair and stared at Amelia. “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”
His English accent, tight and crisp, grated Amelia’s nerves. She stood without thinking, her instinct to lunge at Graham and kill him all over again. Matilda shrieked and rose too, blocking Amelia’s path.
“Don’t, Amelia! This isn’t the past. Think what you’re doing!” The redhead stretched her arms out at her sides.
Trying to push past Matilda, Amelia stared at Graham, itching to put her hands around his neck. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re dead!”
He threw his head back and laughed, hair gleaming in the overhead light. “So are you, by all accounts.” He raised an arm, gun in hand, and pointed it at her. “Now, far be it for me to question my dreams and why I’m here, but I rather think you have something that belongs to me.”
“Belongs to you?” Amelia yelled. “They may have belonged to Graham in the past, but they have nothing to do with you now. And how the hell do you know about them anyway?”
“The same way you do, I suspect. Now stop fucking me about and take me to your cottage. There’s a basement I need to visit. I would have gone to your cottage just now without ever letting you know I was here and had heard you talking, but unfortunately I need you to show me where it is.” Graham indicated the rear doorway beside the sideboard with a flick of his head. “After you.”
Amelia glanced at Matilda, who gave a slight shrug, her eyes wide with fear.
“We’d better do as he says.” Matilda stared at Graham. “I need to go into the shop to lock the front door and collect the keys.”
His eyes narrowed and a wicked sneer pulled his mouth upward. He jerked the gun at the doorway to the shop. “If you try to run, I’ll shoot you, make no mistake about that. I won’t hesitate. You mean nothing to me.”
Matilda nodded, sidling into the shop and Amelia focused on Graham, who stood so he could see both women in his peripheral vision.
“I don’t think you should entertain thoughts of running for that back door or stopping me either, Amelia. I hear a gunshot wound to the kneecap is quite painful.” He laughed, a nasty, sinister sound, and threw his head back again, eyes closed.
In that instant, Amelia rushed him, smacking into his side and sending him hurtling against the wall. He released an “oomph!” of surprise and turned to face her, red splotches on his cheeks.
“You little bitch!”
He gripped Amelia’s upper arms with biting fingers and pushed her off him. She staggered, the backs of her knees making contact with the arm of a chair. Off balance, she thumped down into the seat, the wind knocked out of her and adrenaline surging through her system. Graham advanced, eyes blazing with fury, mouth an ugly slash, the gun trained on her. Struggling to get out of the chair, Amelia caught a glimpse of Matilda creeping through the doorway, a baseball bat held above her head in both hands. Not wanting to give her friend away, Amelia stared directly at Graham. His finger tightened on the trigger and her heart sped up, snatching her breath for long seconds.
“You’ll be sorry you did that, wench!” Graham’s lips retracted and his small white teeth clamped together. He reached out a hand to grab Amelia’s arm.
The baseball bat came down on the back of his head. Matilda loosed a screech of rage and Graham’s eyes widened. He yelled out, his voice harsh and high-pitched from surprise. His knees buckled and he flopped forward, landing on top of Amelia. Sickened at their closeness, she kicked and pushed at him, his labored breaths hot and sour on her cheek and neck. Disgust for him soughed through her and she shoved him off. He landed on the floor with a thump, the gun springing from his hold and scooting across the floor. Matilda dropped the bat, picked up the gun and pointed it at him, her hand surprisingly steady. Amelia scrambled upright and moved to stand beside her friend, conveying her thanks with her eyes.
“Ring the police, Amelia.” Matilda glared at Graham. “Tell them someone broke into my shop and I had to hit him because he was attacking you.”
Legs weak, Amelia looked at Graham. He lay on his back, arms splayed to his sides, a thick pool of blood seeping from beneath his head.
“You…you haven’t heard the last from me.” His breaths came out ragged and his eyes opened and closed as though the lids were heavy.
Matilda grimaced. “Also tell the police that he’s been rambling about seeing us in a dream and that he’s convinced we all met in a previous life.”
“You whore!” Graham attempted to get up but dropped back down again.
“I doubt very much you’ll be bothering us again, asshole.” Amelia eyed him with disgust. “I dealt with you before, and neither of us women is averse to getting rid of people who pose a threat.”
She left the room and walked into the shop. Behind the counter, she lifted the phone from its cradle and made the call that would hopefully take Graham far away from Turner’s Point for good.
Chapter Eleven
It took some time to make statements, but Amelia gained immense satisfaction from watching the paramedics carry Graham out to their ambulance. She knew without being told that his name was Graham in this life and would find out for sure if he was hauled before the courts. It was an ordeal she could do without, but if it meant seeing that hateful man locked away so he couldn’t harm her or Matilda, she’d gladly step into the witness box.
I know he isn’t really Graham, but I can’t help thinking of him that way.
She shuddered and, as Matilda locked the front door of the shop, took a moment to steady her nerves. “I should be getting home. I… Thank you. For what you did.”
Matilda nudged her in the ribs. “Shit, you’d have done the same for me. Besides, I ought to be thanking you for not getting me carted off to the funny farm.” She smiled and cocked her head. “Want me to walk you back?”