The Lake House. Helen Phifer
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as if there was anything in here right now. But it definitely felt as if something had been here. It had left an echo of itself. She stepped down and began heading to the very far corner where the big, iron drain cover was pushed to one side. So someone had been down here, because she was pretty sure Martha Beckett wouldn’t have been able to lift it. There was also a big damp patch next to it, along with an assortment of tools that looked older than she did.
She walked across to the hole, wondering if the man had fallen into it and hurt himself. As her shadow blocked out the light and she stood over it a sense of dread settled over her. It was so strong she felt her own knees go weak. There was movement at the bottom of it and she forced herself to shine the torch down to see what it was that was scaring her so much. Whatever it was moved fast as the light filled the hole. If she’d blinked she would have missed it. George, who had followed her, was standing behind her peering over her shoulder.
‘Did you see that? What was it?’
Annie felt better knowing he’d seen whatever it was, but it wasn’t their missing man – it was on all fours. If someone had fallen into that hole they wouldn’t be hiding from them, they’d be screaming to be helped out.
‘I don’t know, maybe a rat.’
‘Some big rat – it was bloody huge.’
Annie didn’t say anything else. She knew that it wasn’t a rat and she knew that it wasn’t the missing man. What she did know was that whatever it was knew that she had been looking for it, and that really scared her. She stepped back away from the hole. A fear inside her of falling down it and coming face to face with whatever it was made her break out in a cold sweat.
‘Come on, he’s not down here. Help me pull the cover back over. It’s dangerous leaving it open like that. Anyone could fall in.’
Or anything could get out. But she didn’t say that aloud.
‘I think our man decided to cut his losses and run when he saw how deep the hole was and that it might be full of rats. I bet he’s long gone and it wouldn’t surprise me if her purse or the family silverware are missing.’
The cover was heavy and it was hard lifting it up. Between them they managed to shove it back in place as best as they could. Annie cringed at something sticky on her gloves and led the way back upstairs. She shone the torch onto the back of the door and wondered what the symbols meant that had been carved into the wood. George whispered, ‘Are they devil-worshipping signs?’
She shook her head and lowered her voice. ‘No, I don’t think so but I can’t say for sure. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
She stepped into the hall, closely followed by George, and they slammed the door shut. Annie slid all the padlocks across before making her way back down to the kitchen.
‘There’s nobody down there now, Miss Beckett, although we can tell that he was down there because there are some tools near to the drain and the cover was off, but I think he’s decided to call it a day and left. Do you have anywhere I can wash my hands?’
‘Oh dear, I was afraid that was what you would say. Yes, just down the opposite end of the corridor there is a washroom tucked under the stairs.’
‘Thank you. I’ll just wash my hands and then we’ll do a search of your house to make sure he’s not hiding anywhere.’
She walked along to the washroom, desperate to wash whatever the black gunge was from her gloved fingers. Using her elbow to press the light switch she went inside and turned the tap on, letting it run for a moment to get hot. As she held her gloved fingers under the tap she gasped to see the water had turned blood red. Tugging the gloves from her fingers she lifted her hands to examine them and make sure she hadn’t cut herself on the rusty drain cover, but they were fine, and the water was now running clear. Picking up the soap she scrubbed it against her skin and then let her hands stay under the hot water until it began to scald her. There was a towel next to her and she dried her hands on it. The mirror above the sink had steamed up and she rubbed at it with the corner of the towel so she could see herself, but what she saw looking back at her made her scream so loud that George came running down the corridor and hammered on the door.
‘It’s okay. I’m okay. Sorry about that. There was a massive spider.’
‘Oh, just checking. You gave us a fright.’
Annie didn’t look in the mirror again for fear of seeing the grey, gaunt face with the huge red eyes and row of razor-sharp teeth staring back at her again. Her heart palpitating, she wondered if somehow that sweet old woman had at one time summoned a demon to her house, because she couldn’t think of any other way to describe the monster she had seen staring at her from the mirror. She turned around in the small space, relieved that she was alone, and made her way back to the kitchen. Miss Beckett looked at her but didn’t say anything.
‘Right, we need to check the rest of the house if that’s okay with you, and then we’ll have that cup of tea.’
The old woman nodded, but she knew full well that they wouldn’t find that young man anywhere upstairs, although she wished they would. She didn’t even care if he had been up there and stolen the antiques. It would be better for her to know he was still breathing and alive than to lie in bed at night wondering exactly what it was that had taken him. She went back to the cellar door to continue snapping all the padlocks shut while Annie and George went upstairs.
They started on the third floor, which was the attic. The staircase that led up to it was a proper staircase and not a ladder like Annie had been expecting. There were two huge rooms, which were separated by a small landing in the middle. Both of them had bits of junk in them. One was full of old suitcases and the biggest, dustiest Christmas tree she had ever seen, but there was nothing to suggest he was hiding up here. There was a small door that led underneath the eaves, but it was bolted from the outside and Annie sensed that whatever was behind it had nothing to do with them. She turned around and George grabbed her arm.
‘What about in there? He could be hiding in that little room.’
‘He could, but unless he’s Alice in Wonderland or can shut bolts across from inside a room then I somehow doubt it.’
His cheeks flared red and she felt mean. ‘But apart from that, yes, he could have been. Well spotted.’
They went back down the stairs and onto the huge landing. There were seven bedrooms and a separate bathroom and toilet. Annie started on one side and he started on the other. Most of the rooms were empty. There were only two that were still fully furnished – one that was clearly Miss Beckett’s with its pale pink, rose-covered, faded wallpaper. It was at the far end, away from the staircase, and the one next to hers was a little boy’s room, which hadn’t been used for a very long time. But it was spotless. Even though the things in there were old-fashioned and probably worth a bit of money to a toy collector, it was clean and tidy. There wasn’t a speck of dust on anything and the bed was made, ready for whoever’s room it was to climb into. George walked in and whistled.
‘Man, what a room; it’s like something from a museum. The stuff in here must be worth a fortune; all the toys are in mint condition and valuable collectors’ items.’
He began to look around, getting excited at the pristine Corgi cars, while Annie felt a huge sense of loss that was so consuming it made her want to curl up and cry. Something awful had happened to the little boy whose bedroom this was. She was careful not to touch anything because she didn’t want her psychic sixth sense to pick up on it and let her know exactly what. It was too heartbreaking.
‘Come on, he’s not in here and we have no business being in here.’
George put down the tin car he was admiring and nodded his head, then followed her out of the door, which she closed.
‘Well, he’s not here; he must have decided to leave. I just hope he isn’t planning on coming back later to rob her.’
Annie nodded in agreement. She couldn’t tell him what she really thought because he would