House of Malice

ELEVEN

As they sat at breakfast the next morning, Mandy and Todd couldn’t stop glancing at one another and breaking into smiles. She’d slept soundly that night, all right, though not quite for the reason she’d initially thought when she’d gone to bed alone. For the first time in days there was a rosy glow in her cheeks.

‘I like to see you eating with appetite,’ Todd said. ‘It’s what you need.’

‘Now, I wonder why it could be that I’m so hungry,’ she said, and her smile widened. They held hands across the table, leaned closer and kissed.

‘Listen, I had an idea for your book cover,’ he said, buttering another slice of toast. ‘If you’re still up for me doing it, that is.’

‘Of course. Tell me.’

‘Oh, I can do better than that. I can show you.’

In her study after breakfast, she stood next to him as he sat at her computer and logged onto a password-protected online storage facility where he backed up a lot of his photographic images. ‘Now let’s see… there it is.’

‘You’ve already done it?’ she asked, amazed.

‘More or less. Just needs a bit of touching up. Assuming you like it, of course.’

‘When on earth did you find the time?’

‘I like to work fast, and work late. It’s what I was doing when you called me last night.’ He opened up the PDF file. ‘Et voilá. Now, be honest.’

Mandy looked at the image on the screen, and gasped.

‘You hate it, don’t you?’ he said, seeing her wide-eyed expression.

The image showed a grinning decapitated skull with the handle of a cutthroat razor protruding from its empty eye socket. The title and the name Jessica Lomax screamed out from the page, in stark, blood-red Gothic script.

‘Hate it? I think it’s brilliant. It’s exactly what I’d imagined.’ Which, she thought uncomfortably, was disturbing in itself.

Todd looked pleased. ‘Now, you remember I was telling you about that Cornwall shoot I have coming up? Well, the client called and it’s been brought forward, but I still have a couple of free days before I leave. Gives me time for other things I want to do with you.’

‘Do tell,’ she said, raising her eyebrows, leaning her elbows on the desk with her chin on her hands.

He grinned. ‘Well, that too. But I was talking about your new image.’

‘New image?’

‘You have a new persona now, so you need a new look. Give the right kind of impression for the Jessica Lomax website.’

‘But there isn’t a—’

‘There soon will be. I’m going to build it for you.’

Later that morning, Todd fetched a couple of aluminium cases full of lighting equipment that he kept in his car, and set up a makeshift photography studio in the living room of Summer Cottage. Mandy did her own makeup and hair and put on a black dress, and for a couple of hours they experimented to get the ideal shot of the new author, Jessica Lomax. The end result was a striking series of shady, moody images of an unrecognisable Mandy with her black hair covering half her face, her one visible eye heavily made up to look as little as possible like the Mandy Freeman her regular readers knew. The lips were startling red, her cheek and neck as white as chalk. With a few digital embellishments added at the computer, Todd managed to make her look deathly and sexy at the same time. It was the perfect image. Jessica Lomax was suddenly a reality.

‘Not a bad morning’s work,’ he said, looking at his watch. ‘Now, to make a perfect day even better, I’m going to run out to the village and get us some goodies for lunch.’

‘Sounds wonderful. Meanwhile, I’m going up to scrub all this makeup off me and change into some proper clothes.’

‘Shame. I kind of like you like that.’

She nudged him. ‘Pervert. Listen, grab the spare front door key off the hook in the hall, will you? In case I’m still in the bathroom when you get back.’

Upstairs, she hummed a little tune to herself as she crossed the bedroom. She smiled coyly at the sight of the rumpled bed and the recent memories it evoked. After her night with Todd she’d managed to virtually forget what had happened before. She was willing to believe he’d been right — that what she’d experienced had been some kind of waking dream concocted by an anxious mind. It was very possible, she’d decided, that all this had been brought on by the shock of being dropped by her publisher. Stress could play all kinds of malevolent tricks. She resolved to take it easier from now on.

From the window she watched Todd’s Volvo snaking away up the road towards Fairwood. Last night’s deluge had given way to another radiant autumnal morning. Buster was outside in the garden, foraging near the hedge and looking happy enough. Maybe he didn’t need to see a vet after all, thank God.

Feeling buoyant, Mandy went into the ensuite bathroom, leaving the door ajar. She took her time changing out of the black dress and back into her regular uniform of jeans and jumper. Taking a little bottle of makeup remover and a packet of cotton balls from the bathroom cupboard, she stepped across to the mirror over the washbasin and started dabbing away the eye makeup. When she was starting to look like her normal self again, she reached for a brush and began rearranging her long black hair to the way she usually wore it.

She paused, sensing a presence in the bedroom behind her. In the mirror’s reflection, she thought she saw a flitting movement through the gap in the slightly-open bathroom door.

‘Todd?’ She put down the brush with a smile and turned away from the basin, heading back into the bedroom. ‘You were quick. What goodies have you got us this t—’

She stopped. Glanced around the room. Todd wasn’t there. And yet, she was sure she’d seen someone.

The bedroom door lay open through to the corridor beyond. Mandy’s smile faltered as last night’s frightening events began to creep back into her memory. A cold shiver made her rub her arms, pushing her hands up inside the loose sleeves of her jumper to feel the goosebumps that had appeared on her skin. ‘Todd?’ she called out, walking into the corridor and along towards the stairs. Her legs suddenly felt stiff, her gait jerky.

Bang!

The sound of the door slamming somewhere downstairs felt as loud as a rifle shot and made her jump. The crash seemed to resonate through the whole of Summer Cottage, shaking its ancient timbers from end to end.

She paused at the top of the stairs, peering down, trying to control the creeping terror that was spreading through her.

Another sound. What was that? For an instant she tensed even more, then realised that it was the sound of Todd’s car returning. Her heart gave a little leap and she started down the stairs to meet him.

The front door opened and Todd stepped cheerfully into the entrance hall, clutching a bulging grocery bag. ‘Got us some beautiful lemon sole fillets from Sparrowhawks the fishmonger,’ he called out. ‘Bunch of fresh parsley, lemon, butter, baguette and an organic salad. Hope you’re hungry.’

Mandy tried to smile as she came down the stairs. She could hide the tremors in her hands and knees, but not the look on her face.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ she said stiffly.

He put down the grocery bag and came towards her with his arms outstretched. ‘Come on. What is it?’

‘Thought I saw someone,’ she said, avoiding his embrace.

Todd drew back. His face fell. ‘Someone? Where?’

‘Here in the cottage. In… in the bedroom. Just a moment ago.’

‘Again?’

‘I didn’t really get a good look. Just a movement. A shadow.’

‘Christ, Mandy. It was… I don’t know. Probably Buster running about the place. Chasing mice or something.’

She shook her head, arms folded across her chest. ‘Buster’s in the garden. It wasn’t him I saw. It was a figure.’

‘A figure.’

She nodded. ‘Then a door slammed.’

‘What door?’

‘Somewhere downstairs. Sounded like a bloody gun going off.’

‘What are you so frightened of? It was just a door slamming.’

She shook her head again. ‘Todd. I don’t know how to say this… there’s something not right here.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Here, here in this place, this house. There’s something…’ She couldn’t finish the sentence. Glanced nervously about her.

‘For Christ’s sake, Mandy, you need to get past this,’ he said, frowning at her. ‘There’s nobody here except us. What makes you think any different?’

‘I don’t know, Todd. I only know that you don’t believe me.’

He passed a hand over his face. ‘Look, I got us some good wine, lots of lovely ingredients. It’ll take me exactly fifteen minutes to cook up the best fast food you’ve ever tasted. Sit down, put your feet up, I’ll pour you a glass of wine—’

‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.

‘Because of a banging door?’ he said, beginning to look exasperated.

Mandy said nothing.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Todd said.

‘No. It’s not.’

He sighed. ‘Yes, it is, and let me show you why. How about I explain the mystery of the banging door, once and for all?’ He held out his hand, fingers reaching for hers. ‘Come on.’

Tentatively, she took his hand. He led her across the entrance hall to the closed living room door, opened it and motioned at the empty room beyond. ‘Nobody there, see? Now, do you notice the open window? I opened it before I left, because the warmth from the lighting gear had made the room stuffy. Must have caused a draught. Door slams. Case solved. Now let’s eat. Please.’

She shook her head. Tears had formed in her eyes and one rolled down her cheek. ‘No, Todd, you can’t explain it all away so easily. What about the figure I saw just now?’

‘How can you be so sure that’s what you saw?’

‘What about last night?’

‘Last night was just—’

‘And what about my dreams? What about the cellar?’

Todd’s face was growing redder. ‘There is no cellar, Mandy.’

‘I’ve seen it. I know it’s there. It seemed so real.’

‘Seemed, exactly. So you admit yourself that it’s not real!’

‘I don’t know, Todd. I saw it. The same thing, exactly the same, over and over. The doorway leading to it, and these steps leading down.’

‘In your dreams…’

‘And this light. This horrible light…’

‘Where?’

‘Now it’s my turn. I’ll show you.’ She took his hand and led him down the passage, sensing his reluctance. ‘It was here, around the corner.’ When she got to the place, she stopped and pointed at the wall. ‘There. That’s where I saw it.’

‘Yeah, in a dream,’ he said again, staring at her as if she were insane.

‘Don’t look at me like that. It was there.’

‘How could it be there, for God’s sake?’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He banged on the wall. ‘See? Solid. If I hit it any harder I’d break my bloody knuckles on it. It’s like rock. There’s nothing behind this, no hidden doorway, no secret passages. It’s a wall, Mandy. It’s a wall.’

‘Fine, so I’m irrational. What my mother says about writers is all true.’

‘Or maybe you should just go back to writing historical romances, instead of frightening yourself by conjuring up all these horrors in your head.’

‘Says the guy who can dream up skulls with razor blades hanging out of their eyes,’ she countered.

‘It’s just imagination, that’s all. I don’t let it get to me. Obviously, you do. Come on, Mandy, please. Enough. You’re scaring me. This isn’t you. This stuff you’ve been writing is freaky, and it’s plainly getting to you.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You’ve read it?’

‘Some of it, yeah. While you were in the shower, I had a sneak look at it. That was enough for me. It’s—’ He paused, searching for the right words.

‘Spit it out,’ she challenged him. ‘It’s just awful. Total shit. Best thing about it’s the cover.’

‘I didn’t say that. The writing is great. It’s the content, Mandy. So violent. So dark. Made my stomach churn. I couldn’t get past the first few pages.’

‘I’m a dark kind of gal,’ she said, trying to smile.

‘No, you’re not. You’re a sweet and wonderful woman who’s worn herself out by working too hard. That’s what I think.’

‘Okay, maybe I did wear myself out a bit. But—’

‘Maybe nothing,’ he insisted. ‘It’s the truth. You need to relax. Look, let’s not argue, okay? Why don’t you keep me company in the kitchen while I cook lunch? Everything’ll seem different after a glass of this Sauvignon Blanc I got us.’

She sighed, then forced another smile.

‘You know I’m right,’ he said. He squeezed her hand and gave her that warm, infectious grin that she couldn’t resist. The tears were back in her eyes. She wiped them with her sleeve.

‘You win. Lead the way, chef,’ she said.

Todd’s lunch was as delectable as Mandy might have expected. Even so, she never quite relaxed, despite drinking most of the white wine. There was a tense atmosphere in the kitchen as they ate, with Buster curled up in his bed nearby looking miserable and subdued. Their conversation felt forced and she could tell that Todd was perplexed about her behaviour. After lunch, he packed his lighting equipment back into its cases and loaded it into the Volvo, telling her that he was going home to spend the afternoon working on the Jessica Lomax website. ‘How about we meet up in the Fox later?’ he suggested, and she agreed.

‘I want you to rest this afternoon,’ he told her. ‘Promise me you’ll stay away from that damned laptop and take it easy.’ His tone was forceful, almost angry, but Mandy understood that behind his emotion was his concern for her.

‘Okay, I promise,’ she said.