The House on Everley Street (Death Herself Book 2) (15 page)

“Twenty.”

“Twenty?” At this, the old man's eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Lord have mercy, it doesn't feel like more than a month or two since I came into your garden to moan about that huge bonfire you had burning.”

“I remember that.”

“What are you doing back here? You're not the one who's bought the damn place, are you?”

“I am,” John replied. “I don't even know why, really. I guess I was just being a little sentimental.”

“Well, you won't find that much has changed in the area,” Mr. Shepherd continued. “I'm still here, for one thing. Still not got my compost heap sorted, either. You know, I can't think what I've really been doing with my time over the past two decades. Just pottering about, going from one little job that needs fixing to another. Nothing to report, really. Meanwhile, you went out and became a famous writer.”

“I wouldn't say famous,” John replied. “I do okay.”

“And you're married, aren't you? With kids?”

“I am, yes.”

“Where are they? I bet they look just like you.”

“They're playing somewhere,” he replied. “Back in the house, I think. You know what kids are like.”

***

“Quiet!” Scott hissed to Katie as he gently pulled the hatch down, leaving them in darkness at the top of the steps that led down to the basement. “If Dad finds out we're down here, he'll kill us.”

“Dad wouldn't kill us.”

“It's an expression, dumb-ass. It just means he'd be mad.”

“Dad isn't mad.”

Scott sighed. “It's another expression. He'd be angry.”

“Oh.” Katie paused. “Why?”

“I don't know, he's just funny about the basement for some reason.”

“Why?”

“I told you, I don't know.”

“But why?”

“Stop asking dumb questions,” he replied, using the torch app on his father's phone to light the way as he began to make his way down the creaking steps. “Are you coming or not?”

“Wait for me!” she called out, hurrying after him.

“Sssh!” he hissed, turning to her again. “Can you just be quiet for five minutes?”

“Don't yell at me.”

“Come on,” he said with a sigh, heading down to the foot of the steps and then shining the light around. “It stinks down here. I swear to God, it's like something's rotten.”

“Why would something be rotten down here?” Katie asked.

“I don't know.” He crouched down and cautiously poked at one of the damp cardboard boxes. “Maybe someone left food down here or something.”

“I think we should go back up.”

“What's wrong?” he asked with a smile. “Scared?”

“No!”

“Then why do you want to go back up?”

“I just don't want to get into trouble, that's all.”

“Why's it so small down here?” Scott asked suddenly, stopping and looking toward the far wall.

“It's not
that
small,” Katie whispered.

“It's smaller than upstairs,” he continued, “and that wall's different to the others. It's like it was put in much later.” He took a step forward, before Katie grabbed his arm.

“Don't!” she hissed.

“Whatever,” he replied, pulling free and heading to the wall. He reached out and ran his right hand over the surface, feeling the roughness of the breeze blocks. After a moment, he turned his head and leaned closer, as if he was listening out for something.

Katie waited, fighting the urge to run back upstairs.

“Hey,” Scott said after a moment, “come over here and listen to this.”

“Listen to what?” she asked cautiously.

“Just come and listen.”

“Tell me what it is first.”

“I don't know what it is, it's like -” He paused, frowning as he listened some more. “It comes and goes, but it's like a scratching sound.”

Katie instinctively took a step back. “Do you think it's rats?”

“Come and listen.”

“I don't like rats.”

“It's not rats!”

She opened her mouth to ask again, before realizing that she was in danger of coming across like a scared little girl. Which, to be fair, she was, but still... She didn't want to seem weak in front of her brother. Swallowing hard, she took a few steps forward and then leaned closer, placing her ear against the cold, damp wall.

“Wait,” Scott whispered.

“For what?”

“For the noise, dumb-ass.”

“But what -”

Before she could finish, she heard a faint scrabbling sound from the other side.

“That's no rat,” Scott told her.

“Then what is it?”

“I don't know. It seems kind of muffled, though.”

“We should tell Mum and Dad,” Katie continued. “They'll know what to do.”

“You're such a baby,” he replied, making his way past her as he examined the wall. “You
always
want to go and get Mum and Dad.”

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

“I'm going to tell Mum you said that!”

“Loser,” he said with a smile, before crouching down and taking a look at one of the breeze blocks. “This part isn't sealed the same as the rest. Do you think we could get through?”

“Why would we want to go through?”

He rolled his eyes. “To see what's on the other side, dumb-ass. I think there's another part to this basement, and it's been sealed off for some reason.”

“And that's where the rats are?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “If they
are
rats.”

“But...” She frowned. “If there's something, and if someone sealed it off, isn't that a good thing? Why would we want to risk letting it out?”

“To see what it is.”

“But what if it's rats?”

“Then they'll bite your face off,” he said with a smile. “Do you know how violent and mean a hungry rat can get?”

“Stop it.”

“And do you know how
big
they can be? I heard about rats that are as big as cats.”

“Scott, stop it!”

“Maybe,” he continued, “just a few centimeters away on the other side of this wall, there's a rat as big as a -”

Before he could finish, they both heard the hatch opening, and they spun around just in time to see John hurrying down the stairs with a flashlight in his hand.

“Dad!” Scott called out. “We -”

“Out!” John shouted, grabbing them both and pulling them back toward the stairs. “What the hell do you think you're doing here?”

“You're hurting me!” Katie shouted.

“Get out of here!” he yelled, pushing them at the steps and then shoving them as hard as he could back up toward the hatch. “Jesus Christ, I leave you alone for five minutes and you start disobeying strict orders not to come down here!”

“We just wanted to see,” Scott replied. “Dad, I think we found -”

“Out!” John said again, as the three of them reached the kitchen. Turning, he slammed the hatch shut and then slid the bolt across before turning to them. “Okay, so whose idea was it to go down there, huh?”

“Dad -” Scott began.

“Whose idea was it?” he shouted.

“Mine!” Scott replied, back up against the wall. “What's so wrong about going down there anyway?”

“You were given a direct order to keep out!”

“It's just a stupid basement!”

“It might be dangerous down there,” he said firmly. “There might be wild animals, there might be anything! Fumes, poison, traps -”

“We heard a noise.”

“No,” John replied, shaking his head, “you didn't.”

“We did,” Katie whispered.

“There's nothing down there,” John said firmly, “do you understand me? I want both of you to tell me that you understand, right now! And don't go telling your mother all these crazy stories, you'll only end up worrying her.”

Katie looked at Scott, waiting to follow his lead.

“Why are you being like this?” Scott asked his father. “I get that we weren't allowed down there, but it's
just
a basement.” He waited for an answer. “Isn't it?”

For a moment, John seemed almost on the verge of striking his son, so great was his anger. Finally, however, he took a step back, as if his rage had passed its peak, although there was still a hint of white hot fury in his eyes.

“We're going to the carnival tonight,” he told them, “and we're going to have to head out as soon as your mother gets home, so why don't you two go upstairs and get ready?”

“Dad -” Katie began.

“Now!” he shouted.

Scott muttered something under his breath as he and Katie hurried through to the hallway, leaving John alone in the kitchen to listen to the sound of his children running to the bedroom. Sighing, he turned and looked down at the hatch that led to the basement, and after a moment he realized that although he still felt furious, he couldn't remember
why
he was so angry. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, feeling the anger swirling in his mind, and then -

Suddenly it was gone. He felt calm again, and when he opened his eyes it was almost as if he was someone else entirely. He didn't even remember why he'd been so angry, and he didn't really
want
to remember. All he knew was that he couldn't allow anyone to go down to the basement. Not ever.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Twenty years ago

After pulling the door shut, John paused for a moment with the key in his hand. He knew this was an important moment, that he was finally leaving the house for the last time, but something was holding him back. His bags were packed and he was traveling light as he headed off to the train station, bound for Bristol and for the house his father had bought for his time at university. Still, he felt as if he'd forgotten something.

Opening the door again, he stepped back into the kitchen and looked around, before heading to the hatch and pulling it open. There was something in the basement, something invisible and silent that seemed to be calling him, but as he made his way down the steps and used his phone to light the way ahead, he realized that he still couldn't see anything untoward. The breeze-block wall had drawn no unusual comments from the surveyor who'd assessed the house during the same process, and although he'd been down to inspect the cramped space several times over the previous few weeks, John still had no idea why he felt drawn to the place.

He stopped and waited.

Listening.

There seemed to be a scream in the air, yet the basement itself was silent. For a moment, he could almost imagine a figure on the other side of the wall, slamming its fists against the blocks and begging to be let out. At the same time, he couldn't hear a thing. He figured he'd been alone in the house for long enough, and that his imagination had begun to run wild.

Time to go.

Heading back up to the hatch, he told himself that he needed to be strong, that he was in danger of getting too sentimental. Even though he wanted to once again go down to the basement and search, he forced himself to close the hatch and slide the bolt across, and then to head to the door. Stepping outside, he pulled the door shut and this time he wasted no time in slipping the key into the lock. Finally, after hauling his bag onto his shoulder, he headed to the street and stopped, before looking back at the house one final time.

He felt a shiver pass through his body as he realized that he'd most likely never see the place again.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, looking at the bedroom window and half expecting to see his grandmother's ghost staring down at him. But, of course, she wasn't there. There was no such thing as ghosts, he knew that now.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Today

“Wow!” Sarah said, laughing as she saw another float coming past, this time with a large model of a windmill lit up against the night sky. “That's the best one yet!”

The carnival had been running for almost an hour now but showed no signs of stopping. Marching bands played as trucks pulled large, decorated trailers along the seafront road, and a large crowd of several thousand people had turned out to watch the procession as it made its way slowly past the castle and then along the promenade toward the fun fair that had fetched up in town for the summer. Street vendors were selling burgers and hot-dogs, while every twenty feet or so there were clowns selling balloons.

“Katie,” Sarah continued, nudging her daughter's shoulder, “can you see properly? Do you want me to lift you up?”

“It's okay,” Katie replied, clearly not enjoying herself very much as she watched a huge plastic swan being driven past, with three teenaged girls sitting on the back wearing white dresses and crowns.

“Come on,” Sarah said, picking her up anyway and lifting her so she could see better. “I bet you've never seen anything like this, huh?”

“It's pretty weird,” Katie muttered.

“So what's wrong?” Sarah asked. “You and Scott have seemed off ever since I got back from town earlier.”

Katie turned to her.

“Did something happen?” Sarah asked cautiously.

“Dad got really mad at us,” Katie replied, as another marching band made its way past.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. We just went down into the basement.”

“By yourselves?”

“I know we weren't supposed to, but Dad got
really
angry. I thought he was going to hit us.”

“Your father would never do that,” Sarah told her, as she spotted John and Scott making their way back through the crowd with candy floss. “You know that, right?”

“I suppose.”

“This is lame,” Scott said he reached them, rolling his eyes. “I can't believe people actually pretend they enjoy it.”

“To be fair,” John told him, “I used to think it was lame when I was your age too. It's only now that I can really appreciate it in all its tacky glory.”

“Do you want an ice cream?” Sarah asked Katie, hoping to cheer her daughter up a little.

Katie shook her head.

“A balloon?”

“No thank you.”

“Well you have to have something.”

“Can you put me down on the ground? My legs are aching.”

Setting Katie down, Sarah paused for a moment before turning to John. “So I heard you got pretty mad at the kids earlier when they went into the basement.”

“It was nothing.”

“I think you freaked Katie out.”

“That's not exactly difficult. The kid's jumpy as hell.”

“Okay,” Sarah replied, a little shocked by his attitude, “that's new. What crawled up
your
butt and died?”

“I just told them not to go down there and they disobeyed me, that's all. I thought we were supposed to be instilling a little respect in their minds?”

“We are, but...” Pausing, she realized that something seemed a little different about her husband, as if he was harsher and less tolerant. He'd always been more lenient with the children, yet any mention of the basement was clearly enough to get him riled. “This place isn't good for you, is it?” she asked finally. “This whole town, I mean. I didn't understand before, but I see it now.”

“It's not the town. It's just the way the kids disobeyed me.”

Spotting a dark mark on his neck, she leaned closer. “Did you burn yourself?”

He quickly pulled his collar up. “It's nothing.”

She opened her mouth to ask again, but she knew her husband well enough to realize that he was clamming up. “I met the people who sold the house earlier,” she continued finally. “I got their names from Reginald and I arranged to meet them in a cafe.”

He turned to her. “Without telling me?”

“You said you didn't want to bother.”

“I didn't mean for you to go behind my back.”

“Calm down,” she replied, “I just met the woman, Deborah Watkins, for a cup of tea and a chat. She had some interesting things to say about that house.”

“Such as?”

“Do you know that she and her husband were basically driven out of the place? From what she said, it's clear she thinks the house is haunted and -”

“Rubbish.”

“I saw her daughter,” Sarah continued, as another float drove past blaring loud music. “They have this one-year-old baby and she's kind of catatonic. Deborah said that the girl screamed and screamed on the night they left, and she said she thought... Well, I know you'll think this sounds crazy, but she said she thought there was something living in the basement.”

John rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious,” Sarah told him. “She wasn't making it up, she definitely believed it.”

“Then she's obviously nuts. It's probably postpartum depression, something like that.”

“Have
you
ever noticed anything in the basement?”

“I've barely been down there.”

“And yet you act like a maniac when the kids dare to take a look.”

“I told you -”

“I don't believe in ghosts,” she replied, interrupting him. “You know that, I've always been like that and it's still true, but there are a lot of weird things pointing at that basement right now. I'm not making any grand claims, but...” She paused for a moment. “I'm just glad we're getting out of here tomorrow. I know it was my idea to stay, but with the way things have been going -”

“Actually, I think I might stick around for a few more days.”

She stared at him, barely able to believe what he'd just said. “What?”

“I have a few things to do. You and the kids should go back to London, but I want to stay in the house a little while longer.” A passing float lit up his face and he smiled. “Look at that one,” he continued, as if he was trying to change the subject. “Are they supposed to be ants or butterflies? It's kinda hard to tell.”

“John -”

“Can't I have a little time by myself?” He kept his eyes on the passing float, as the flashing lights bathed his face in red light, then yellow, then white, then back to red again.

Sarah paused, worried by the sudden change in her husband's demeanor. In less than twenty-four hours they'd switched positions, and now she was the one who wanted to leave while he preferred to stick around.

“John,” she said finally, “I really think -”

“Let's go get you an ice cream,” John said suddenly, grabbing Katie's hand. “Come on, you always love ice cream, and I really could do with not being nagged for a few minutes.”

“Nagged?” Sarah said, shocked by his tone.

“I don't want an ice cream right now,” Katie replied.

“Of course you do.”

“I think she's okay,” Sarah said. “John, let's just watch the rest of the carnival.”

“Well,
I
want an ice cream,” he continued, “and I'd like to take Katie with me. Is that okay? We came down here to have fun, right? So let's have fun instead of going on and on about things.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, before realizing that there was no point. Instead, she watched as he led a reluctant Katie away through the crowd. He seemed nervous and on edge, as if he couldn't stay still for more than a few minutes at a time.

“What's wrong with Dad?” Scott asked.

She turned to look at him, as another marching band passed in the street nearby.

“Nothing,” she said after moment, forcing a smile. “Nothing's wrong with him, he's just finding it a little odd to be back in his hometown, that's all. Don't worry, this time tomorrow we'll be back in London and everything'll be back to normal.”

***

“John!” she called out a couple of hours later, making her way across the garbage-strewn street that was still waiting for council sweepers to arrive now that the parade was over. “John! Katie! Where are you?”

The carnival had died down an hour ago and the crowd had dispersed quickly, while the fun fair had shut down and the beach area was now mostly empty except for a few scattered groups of people hanging out in the shadows. So far, however, there was no sign of either John or Katie, and although she kept telling herself not to worry about the fact that her husband wasn't answering his phone, Sarah couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something didn't feel quite right.

“Dad!” Scott shouted, a few steps further back. “Katie!”

“Come on,” Sarah muttered, taking her phone from her pocket and trying his number again, still to no avail. “Are you trying to make some kind of point?” she wondered out loud, turning and looking both ways along the street. “Is that what this is?”

“Maybe they're down by the water,” Scott suggested.

“We already checked there.”

“Yeah, but maybe we missed them before.”

She turned to him.

“Where else should we look?” he asked with a shrug.

“Maybe they just went home,” she pointed out.

“Without telling us?”

“Maybe your father lost his phone, and then he couldn't find us in the crowd.”

“We didn't move from where we were when he left.”

“Well, it must be something like that,” she replied, starting to feel exasperated. She kept telling herself not to panic, that Katie was absolutely fine with John, but at the same time she also felt as if her husband seemed a little different, as if he was holding something back. “We'll check the beach one more time and then we should head back to the house. We'll probably find them back in the kitchen, laughing about the fact that we spent so long out here looking for them.”

“You don't really think that,” Scott said.

“Yes, I do. They probably just think this is a game.”

Forty-five minutes later, having checked the beach and the promenade a couple more times, Sarah and Scott finally got back to the house, and they both noticed immediately that all the lights were off.

“I don't think they're here,” Scott said cautiously.

“They probably just went to bed,” Sarah replied, although she felt as if she was clutching at straws. She checked her phone again, to make sure that John hadn't tried calling her back, before leading Scott to the front door and taking the key from her pocket. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she knew she couldn't let her fear show too much. “Come on, there's nothing to worry about. They can't have gone far.”

They spent the next few minutes looking around the house, only to find no sign of either John or Katie. Although she tried to hide her concern so that Scott wouldn't worry, Sarah was feeling increasingly worried by the time she got back down to the kitchen. She checked her phone yet again, while trying to work out what circumstances would cause John to ignore a dozen calls.

“We've checked everywhere, then,” she muttered. “They must still be out. I guess they found something fun to do.”

“We haven't checked
everywhere
,” Scott pointed out, turning to look at the hatch that led down to the basement.

“Why would they be down there?”

He shrugged.

Sighing, she realized he was right.

“Wait here,” she told him, heading to the hatch and lifting it up, before looking down into the darkness below. She knew it was crazy, but in the pit of her stomach she felt a strong desire to
not
go down the steps. “John?” she called out. “Katie?”

Silence.

“There's a hidden part down there,” Scott said suddenly.

She turned to him.

“There
is
,” he continued. “Katie and I found it earlier, just before Dad caught us. We didn't ask him about it because he was so mad, but there's a false wall and everything.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she replied, “why -”

“I'll
show
you,” he said, slipping past her and making his way down the stairs.

“Scott, don't go down there!”

“Why not? Because Dad says we can't? Are you scared of him too?”

“I'm not scared of him, I just...” She paused, before activating the flashlight on her phone and starting to follow him down. “At least let me go first,” she continued. “Scott, seriously, there's no hidden room down here, the idea's completely absurd.”

“Come and see for yourself,” he replied. “I know what we found.”

Leading her across the basement, he stopped when he reached the far wall. As soon as he turned his head and pressed his ear against the wall, he could hear the faint scratching sound from before, and a moment later he saw from the shocked look in her eyes that his mother could hear it too.

“Now do you believe me?” he whispered.

Stepping back, Sarah shone the flashlight across the wall. She wanted to tell Scott that he was imagining things, that there was no way there could be a hidden room in the basement, but as the scratching sound continued she was starting to realize that whatever was on the other side, it was definitely real.