The Good Sisters: The perfect scary read to curl up with this winter. Helen Phifer
Читать онлайн книгу.
dressed, took her rosary beads from the dressing table and placed them around her neck. Instantly she felt better, purer, and closer to God and nature. She would sleep with them on tonight if it meant she wouldn’t have such terrible dreams. The house was quiet. Everyone else must still be asleep, which was good. It gave her a chance to make a pot of tea and gather her thoughts.
It would also give her the chance to decide what to do about Lilith. The woman couldn’t stay here any longer. There was something about her that was off kilter. Agnes never judged anyone on face value, but the sneaky grins and smirks whilst Lilith was relaying her tale of woe last night had stayed with her. Who in their right mind would smirk about being beaten and forced to do terrible things?
As she sipped her tea she felt a shadow fall over the kitchen door and turned to see Lilith standing there, watching her. She was so surprised because she’d never heard the woman leave her bedroom or come down the stairs that she spilt the hot liquid all over herself, scalding her arm. Lilith rushed to the sink and picked up a dishcloth. After running it under the cold water tap she pressed it against Agnes’s arm. Her touch made Agnes jump once more. The woman’s fingers were colder than slivers of ice if that was possible.
‘Have you hurt yourself badly, sister?’
Agnes shook her head.
‘Did I give you a fright? I’m sorry about that. I’ve always been an early riser. I hate lying in bed wasting the day when there’s so much to do, although I do hate the sunlight. My skin is so fair that I can’t go out in it. Don’t you agree? Why don’t you run your arm under the cold water? I’ll clean this mess up and then make us a lovely fresh pot of tea.’
Agnes pushed herself up from the chair and crossed to the sink. Running the cold water tap, she held her arm underneath it. The whole time she watched Lilith as she cleaned the spilt liquid from the table, then set about getting fresh teabags from the cupboard along with clean cups. How did she know where everything was? Last night she had been sitting sniffling and crying, too upset to watch them making a pot of tea. Once again the feeling that Lilith was not what she seemed washed over Agnes.
When the teapot was on the table along with clean cups, Agnes turned the tap off and took a clean tea towel from the wooden rail to wrap around her arm, blotting it dry. She forced herself to sit back down. The back of her throat felt parched she was so thirsty. Lilith began to pour fresh cups of tea and passed one to her.
‘Now you be careful, Sister Agnes. We don’t want you burning yourself again, do we. There is nothing worse than the lingering slow burn of hot liquid on such delicate skin.’
Agnes took the teacup and blew on it. She hoped that her trembling hands wouldn’t betray her and spill this one all over. She prayed even harder that Lilith wouldn’t notice the trembling was in fact pure fear and would put it down to old age.
‘Thank you, dear, that’s very kind of you. I didn’t sleep very well last night. I think I’m still half asleep.’
Lilith smiled, making the skin on the back of Agnes’s neck crawl. Later on that night she would describe to Father Patrick that she thought being stared at by Lilith was how it must feel to be a fly trapped in a spider’s web.
‘I have to say I’m very fortunate that I stumbled across this place last night. I thought I was going to freeze to death out there – it was so cold. Thank you so much for giving me permission to come in.’
She nodded at Agnes as she spoke. Agnes’s head was spinning. What was this about? Almost every sentence Lilith said seemed to have a hidden meaning to it. Or was that just her taking everything and twisting it to fit her mindset? At a loss for words, she forced herself to smile at Lilith. Thank you for giving me permission to come in. Agnes felt as if her brain was screaming at her, warning her, only she couldn’t work out what her subconscious was trying to tell her. The sound of heavy footsteps running down the stairs broke the awkward silence between the two women as Sister Edith breezed in.
‘Good morning, Mother Superior, how are you today?’ She looked down at the white linen tea towel wrapped around Agnes’s arm and gasped.
‘Oh my goodness, what’s wrong? Have you hurt yourself?’
‘It was just an accident, Edith – my own silly fault. Good morning, I trust you slept well?’
‘Do you want me to take a look at it?’
Agnes shook her head. She didn’t want Lilith looking at it again and giving her an excuse to get too close to her. ‘No it’s fine; it’s nothing honestly.’
‘I did sleep well, but I had the strangest dreams. To be honest I can’t believe it’s morning already. The night passed by so fast I feel as if I haven’t been to bed.’ Edith smiled at Lilith then busied herself making breakfast for everyone. By the time the porridge was bubbling on the stove and the thick crusty bread had been sliced ready to spread with butter and jam, Sister Mary still hadn’t appeared and Agnes stood up.
‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll just go and see if Mary is okay. It’s not like her to oversleep when you’re banging around in the kitchen, Edith. I’ll be back down shortly. Please don’t wait for me – just tuck in.’
Agnes would normally make all three of them say prayers before they ate, but for some reason the thought of praying in front of that woman made her feel queasy. Today she would do her praying to God in private as far away as possible from Lilith. She went upstairs and knocked on Mary’s door. There was no reply.
‘Mary, is everything okay? Do you need anything? Are you ill?’
There was no sound from inside the room. Agnes put her ear against the heavy wooden door to listen. There was no movement and Mary – who was a heavy sleeper and snored quite loudly, much to Edith’s annoyance – wasn’t making any noise whatsoever.
Cold tendrils of fear began to creep up Agnes’s spine. She tried the door handle; it was locked. So Mary had been worried enough last night that she’d had to lock her bedroom door as well. That made two of them. She would take Edith to one side and ask her if she had done the same. Agnes lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Still there was no movement from inside the room. She knocked again, much harder this time and shouted, ‘Mary!’
A hand on her shoulder made her jump and Agnes turned to see Edith standing there.
‘Come on, Mary, what did you do last night after we all went to bed? Did you have a go at the cooking sherry again? Open the door and come get your breakfast.’
***
Edith smiled at Agnes, expecting Mary to tell her to bugger off any second.
The last time they hadn’t been able to rouse Mary, she had finished off half a bottle of whisky Father Patrick had left behind. Oh it had been funny to watch Mary walking around with her head in her hands and being sick every time someone mentioned food the day after. Agnes didn’t like them to be mean to each other, but it was only a bit of a laugh. Edith knocked much harder than the older woman ever could. She stopped briefly then began to hammer on the door with her fist.
Agnes reached out her hand to stop her. ‘Something’s wrong. We need to get into that room. Have you got a spare key?’
Edith shook her head. ‘No, sorry. I should have told you when it happened. I misplaced the key ring you gave me last year with all the spares on and seeing as how we don’t normally lock our doors, I didn’t think it really mattered that much.’
‘Edith, what are you like? How are we going to get in there now? I’ll have to phone Father Patrick or Constable Crosby to come and break the door open.’
***
Agnes turned to see Lilith standing at the top of the stairs watching them and she shivered.
‘Is everything all right, ladies? What’s the matter with Sister Mary?’
Agnes ignored her and squeezed past her to go downstairs. As she did a faint whiff of something gone off filled her nostrils. Where was