Candlesight. Michael Liddy
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inside and, with exaggerated calmness, punched in the alarm codes. Staring down along the aisles to the factory doors, there was still no sign of any movement. With an audible click the lights went dark and she stared at the hot bulbs as their glow slowly diminished.
With all dark again Amelia stepped carefully over the metal threshold and pulled the door closed behind her, feeling a sense of relief as it snapped shut. Her hand didn’t leave the handle though and she stood silently in the rain, her expression distant. Playing the sound she’d heard over in her mind, she still felt uncomfortable. It hadn’t been the rasping or groaning of building movement or the scuffle of an animal moving or dislodging something. As she thought about it more, Amelia realised those rooms next to the factory were probably in-bound and didn’t have any external windows, and that meant it was unlikely animals could get in there, at least anything much bigger than a rat.
She breathed deeply. “Those sounds were from something bigger than rats and mice.” Perhaps there was an intruder in the factory.
Pausing for a moment Amelia looked around at both her car, the door, and the fence at the back of the yard, judging how she could get away if something came at her. Spooked, and still on the verge of diving for the safety of the vehicle, she found it difficult to even entertain the thoughts she now had. At last she remembered the pepper spray in her satchel and retrieving it, Amelia quietly unlocked the door again and slowly opened it so she could see down the aisle.
There was almost no light inside and she gripped the pepper spray as the darkness beyond the door seemed to reach out to grab her. Remaining perfectly motionless with her other hand gripping the looped door handle, Amelia watched the vague blobs of shapes with ever fleeting eyesight.
For a moment she glanced down at her watch and the luminescent hands showed that it was just after 8:30pm. She resolved to wait for fifteen minutes. The cold of the night and the rain, which had become more insistent, bore down into her. Beginning to doubt this notion, she was on the verge of pulling the door shut and retreating to the comfort of air conditioning when the barest smudge of light and then a narrow sliver appeared just to the left of the Coremade factory doors. Brightening briefly, a shape moved across it and then all went dark again.
Startled to the point of panicking, it took every ounce of resolve for Amelia to slowly step back outside and pull the door closed, twisting the key so it wouldn’t make any sound. The rain was heavier now, an insistent drumming, but she hardly noticed it on the way to her car. Trembling and keeping her eyes resolutely downward, she slid noiselessly into the driver’s seat and locked the doors. Inside the cocoon of the car she felt some small measure of safety, but at any moment she expected one of the windows to smash and rough hands to reach for her.
Fumbling with the ignition key she turned the engine on and with only the park lights on, backed very slowly away from the warehouse. Once she reached the safety of the illuminated main street at the side of the factory, and with clear sight in every direction, Amelia breathed a deep sigh of relief, and willed her shaking left leg on the clutch into calmness. Turning the headlights on, she turned left and headed along the front of the factory, giving it a wide berth, but peering intently at the rows of dark windows.
It was then that she noticed a figure on the opposite side of the street. For only a moment she saw a slender man in a fawn raincoat enter the front yard of one of the tiny terrace houses before he disappeared into its darkened depths. There was nothing secretive or furtive about his movements, and he didn’t glance in her direction, but still she felt there was something strange about his presence.
Amelia found her emotions moving from edgy anxiousness to puzzlement as she pondered the person she’d just seen. It took a moment for her to realise what troubled her, but eventually she realised; his coat was slick with rain. That meant he hadn’t just stepped from a car, he had no umbrella, no dog, and there were no shops anywhere near; why would anyone be out on such a miserable cold night?
Suddenly overcome with fatigue, Amelia resolved not to think about it any further, and with enormous concentration she forced chaotic thoughts from her mind. She drove sedately towards home through the warren of Kensington’s and North Melbourne’s streets.
The call from Ted came at 9:45am the following morning, as expected. Amelia was pleasantly and deceptively calm with his tirade and the older man quickly realised that something was different in her demeanour. After a short burst of indignation at her intrusion he ran out of bluster.
“Ted, you need to relax. Be a good lad, take a look at the range and come back to me with your comments. Take a couple of days if you need it.” Amelia’s voice was silken.
There was a pause before he responded. “There’s a lot on here, it may not be convenient.”
She replied with an edge in her voice. “No more or less than there’s been for the last five years, but listen, if you want me to prioritise your diary I’d be happy to. Hang on, I’ll just get it up here.” She made a mock gesture of leaning forward and clicking the mouse.
Indignant at the implication, his reply was icy. “I’m going to Richard, this is ridiculous.”
“Do whatever you want, Ted, but I’ll be in there on Friday at 9am and you’d better have the response there for me.” Without waiting for his reply, she hung up.
Within half an hour there was the expected call from Richard, which she was able to deflect easily. Keeping her conversation with Arthur to herself she nonetheless had a new confidence with his arrogant haughtiness, explaining her antagonism of Ted as an innocent prod to have him engage. Richard was mollified, though he was patronising as he counselled her to moderate her behaviour.
Hanging up the phone, she stared at the receiver. “Richard, I’m beginning to think you’re amazingly stupid.”
She turned her thoughts again to the man she had seen going into the house on the opposite side of the street. Had it been him in the factory? But she was confounded as to what he might have been doing in there at night. Confounded and, in a small part of her mind, intrigued.
What could there be that would have someone wandering around that cold dark place in the middle of winter? Her imagination could come up with nothing and with a sigh she turned back to the emails on the screen in front of her. “You have more than enough to do already without hunting for ghosts.”
Despite the self admonishment, over the next few days her attention frequently wandered back to the figure she’d observed, though she didn’t call or return to the factory. By Friday she’d dealt with the sense of confrontation and walked confidently through the warehouse just before 9am. She smiled at the irrational comfort that just a little light made to her demeanour, though it was just as abandoned as it had been when she’d been there nights before.
As she pushed through the double doors she was surprised to see Ted leaning over his desk. Screwing up her face in suspicion Amelia approached his office and as she reached for the door handle he looked up. There was an expression of smug satisfaction on his face as he briefly glanced at her before resolutely returning his attention to the report on his desk.
Without greeting her or meeting her eyes he waved his arm towards the coffee table. “I’ll be with you in a moment, take a seat.”
Exhaling softly Amelia ignored his efforts at control; as long as there were some meaningful responses to her material she could deal with his ridiculous manner. Her suspicion was raised further when instead of making her wait for ages as was his usual habit, he came over almost immediately. In his hands was a small sheaf of papers.
“I don’t agree with your manner or methods, but I don’t want to see any part of Havesheld be mediocre or shoddy. Despite the distraction from Coremade, I’ve given some thought to what you brought in and have some ideas that must be considered.” His voice and demeanour were pompous and self aggrandising as he carefully laid out a series of sketches on the table.
What indignation she began to feel at his words evaporated as she took in the drawings. There on simple A4 white paper was a carefully,