Buch lesen: «The Lake House»

HELEN PHIFER

lives in a small town called Barrow-in-Furness with her husband and five children. She has lived in the same town since she was born. It gets some bad press but really is a lovely place to live, surrounded by coastline and not far from the Lake District, where she likes to spend at least one of her days off from work. She has always loved writing and reading and loves reading books that make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Unable to find enough scary stories to read, she decided to write her own.

You can contact or follow Helen on her blog at helenphiferblog.wordpress.com, her website at www.helenphifer.co.uk and on Twitter, @helenphifer1.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank all my amazing readers, family and friends. Without your support, Annie, Will and Jake would not be on their fourth adventure. I’d also like to thank Emma Kierzek, the most talented tattoo artist in the North West for her amazing tattoos and the inspiration last time we met. Once more I’m for ever indebted to my editor, the fabulous Lucy Gilmour, and the rest of the HQ Digital team for all their support, hard work and talent. You guys make being a writer so much easier. Last but not least I’d like to thank my family for being there when the going gets tough. I couldn’t do this without them.

Helen xx

Dedication

For my children Jessica, Joshua, Jerusha, Jaimea & Jeorgia

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Epilogue

Extract

Endpages

About the Publisher

Prologue

June 1919

The fairground filled the middle of the huge, open park. Its lights were blazing so bright that the girls had to squint to take in the sight before them. The darkness surrounding the fair was a stark contrast; the air felt much heavier where the shadows fell across the acres of trees and shrubs. Once they got close enough to bask in the warmth of the light, they were drawn inside the gates with no hesitation, their excitement taking over. Laughter filled the air along with the smell of candyfloss and hot dogs. Agnes’s stomach rumbled. It was so loud that Eleanor giggled. There were so many people walking around smiling and chattering. Eleanor had never seen anything like it. When her sister, Agnes, had first suggested they visit the fairground she had frowned and said no, but now, as she looked around at the brightly lit stalls, sideshow tents and carousels, she was smiling. They walked around arm in arm so as not to get separated in the crowds. The rides were busy and Agnes rhymed off which rides they were going to queue for. She pointed to the Ghost Train and Eleanor shook her head. Definitely not. They approached a red velvet tent where a man who looked not much older than them was shouting.

‘Roll up, roll up. I dare you to come and see the monsters and strange creatures that haunt your dreams. Never in your life would you expect to see them in the flesh, with your very own two eyes. Come inside and see the bearded lady, the world’s strongest man; or how about the real, living mermaid who was captured by none other than a shipwrecked sailor who clung on to her for dear life after his ship crashed into the rocks? Come and see the one, the only Windigo, all the way from the plains of North America. It is the most feared monster of all, half man, half demon – the only one in the whole world in captivity. Even the Indian chiefs won’t look him in the eye. Are you brave enough to?’

The two girls looked at each other and giggled. ‘Should we go inside?’

‘No, we should not. It’s just a shameless trick to take our money. There is no such thing as a mermaid or a Windigo.’

He stepped closer, towering over them with his top hat. His black cloak billowing behind him, he bent towards them and whispered, ‘How can you be sure until you’ve taken a look? If you don’t believe that it’s real then I will give your money back. Now that’s surely an offer two pretty ladies like you can’t refuse?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose it is.’

‘Come on, Agnes, I want to go and see the animals, not some scary monsters.’

He looked at them both. ‘Yes, you are scared, but you, my little flower, look as if your interest is piqued.’

‘Come on, Eleanor, if we don’t believe it we can have our money back. Please. You know how much I love to be scared.’

The slightly older girl rolled her eyes at her sister, and opened her purse. She handed over the money to the man who took it from her, then bowed.

‘Take it from me, you will not be disappointed, but if you are then I’ll be here with your money.’

Agnes pushed her arm through her sister’s, pulling her towards the deep red velvet curtain.

Eleanor didn’t want to go inside the tent. Her heart was racing and her mind was telling her to get away from there as fast as she could, but Agnes pulled her through the gap in the curtains and they were inside the gloomy tent. It was hard to see after the bright lights from seconds ago and it took some adjusting before they could make out the glass display cases and cages that were lined up around the sides of the tent. Agnes stepped forward but Eleanor stayed where she was, finding the air much thicker in here than it had been outside. It was warm and she felt a trickle of perspiration form on her brow and start to roll down her forehead into her eye, making it sting. She began to blink.

From somewhere inside the tent, which now felt as if it had tripled in size, she heard her sister’s voice as she gasped. Eleanor felt the room swim and shook her head to clear it. Now was not a good time to faint. She felt her legs begin to give way and she stumbled, catching herself against one of the glass display cases. She looked at the thing that was inside and froze. It was staring right at her. She screamed. It was tall and very gaunt. It looked like a man but she knew that it wasn’t. The whole thing was grey from head to foot with a larger than average head, which had thick, black tufts of hair sticking out from it in patches. Her eyes frozen to the creature, she looked down at where its hands should have been and gasped, crossing herself. Instead of fingers there were long, black, sharp claws.

Eleanor felt as if she was suffocating and couldn’t breathe. She needed to get outside into the fresh air before she fainted, but she couldn’t tear herself away from the thing inside the case. It had long, pointed teeth and blood-red lips. She could imagine them biting into her soft, warm flesh and ripping her throat out.

All of a sudden there was a succession of loud popping sounds and the crowds that had been laughing outside the tent now began to scream. A loud whooshing noise and an immense heat enveloped the tent. A hand grabbed hers and Agnes screamed into her ear, ‘We have to get out of here. The whole place is on fire.’

Eleanor couldn’t move; the terror that had taken over her body wouldn’t let her. A hand slapped her face, breaking the gaze between her and whatever monster was inside the case. She came to her senses and let Agnes lead her to the back of the tent where there was a dimly illuminated exit. She turned to take one last look at the beast inside the glass case and felt her blood turn to ice. Its eyes, which had moments ago been cold and dead, were now glowing red. Then she was pulled through the curtains out into the fresh air.

People were screaming and running, trying to get away from the rides and tents that were now all beginning to glow red and orange as the flames took hold. All but a few of the bright bulbs had exploded and there were people running around in the dark amongst the thick clouds of black smoke that now filled the air, not knowing where to go or what to do. Both girls looked at each other. If they ran to the crowd they would get crushed, trampled in the panic or, even worse, not be able to escape and burn to death. The man in the top hat appeared, his handsome face now covered in soot.

‘Follow me if you want to get out of here alive.’

He pulled off his hat. Without it he looked like any normal boy his age. He grabbed hold of Eleanor, who was clutching on to Agnes, and dragged her in the opposite direction from the entrance to the fair.

‘We’ll never get out of there alive. Come on, there’s an exit a bit further up for us carnies to use.’ Neither of them was about to argue with him because the heat from the flames was getting intense. Screams of panic were now turning into screams of pain and the sound was horrific. Eleanor turned and saw a woman whose skirts had caught fire. She made to run and help her but the man dragged her back.

‘It’s too late; you can’t help her. We need to get out.’

Agnes nodded and pulled her sister’s arm as hard as she could, then all three of them continued running until he stopped and made a sharp left. Within seconds they were out of the confined walls of the fairground. It was only after they were a good distance away that they stopped to catch their breath. Fire engines were on their way and the whole fairground in front of them was in flames. The screams could be heard even above the fierce crackling and popping as the fire took hold, and Eleanor began to pray for the people inside. Agnes looked across at the man.

‘Shouldn’t we be going in to help get people out?’

‘No, we should not. We would be crushed or get caught in the fire. I’m afraid it’s hopeless.’

Agnes glared at him. ‘But we might be able to help!’

‘Or you might die. What would you prefer?’

Eleanor reached out for his hand. ‘Thank you; you’ve saved our lives. I’m Eleanor Sloane and this ungrateful wretch is my sister, Agnes.’

He took hold of her hand. ‘You’re very welcome. James Beckett at your service, and that sideshow you were very much enjoying was mine. I hunted far and wide to find those exhibits.’

The fire engines began to appear and they watched as the last throngs of people were led from the gates. The men began to form up to take it in turns to try and fight the fire.

‘You ladies should stay here or go home, but I better go and help them.’

‘Thank you; we live at 3 Park Place if you need anything. We would be more than glad to help. It’s the least we could do.’

Eleanor watched as he jogged towards the men who were lining up, passing buckets of water along to each other. He was nice even if he did work in a fairground. Her father would be furious with them. With her especially for letting Agnes talk her into bringing her here, but she had a feeling that tonight had been worth the days of anger that were to come. She grabbed her sister’s arm, dragging her away from the burning wreckage in front of them.

‘Come now; we best get home before Mother begins to worry where we are.’ As they turned to leave she stole one last glance at James, who had thrown his cape to the floor and had pushed the sleeves of his soot-stained white shirt up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. As if he knew she was looking he glanced in their direction. His eyes meeting hers, he performed a small bow. Eleanor giggled and her sister looked at her.

‘Please tell me you don’t find that man attractive. He works in a freak show of all places.’

‘It’s none of your business who I find attractive and he doesn’t just work in a freak show, as you so rudely put it; he owns the whole thing. So he’s a businessman and he is a lot more attractive than that beastly old man, Thornton, who Father keeps inviting round for dinner.’

Agnes looked over at the blackened tent they had been inside not fifteen minutes ago. ‘He was a businessman. There’s nothing left now.’

‘Come on, let’s go home…’

They set off, walking the short distance to their home, which overlooked the park. The four-storey town house came into view, every window brightly lit. Eleanor could make out the figure of her mother in one of them and her father in another. ‘They are either waiting for us to come home or have been watching the fire.’

Agnes stared at her sister. ‘Let’s not tell them where we’ve been. We can say we went for a stroll.’

Eleanor began to laugh so much that her eyes watered. ‘Agnes, I have no idea if I look like you but you are covered in black soot and smell as if you’ve been standing too close to one of Arthur’s bonfires.’

Agnes for the first time looked at Eleanor and also began to laugh. ‘Oh my, I think we are in a lot of trouble because you look like the chimney sweep. How did we get so dirty?’

They both began to giggle as the front door opened and the tall figure of their father blocked out the light. A yelp or a scream, Eleanor wasn’t quite sure what it was, filled the air as their mother pushed their father to one side and ran down the steps.

‘Oh my goodness, I’ve never been so worried. Look at the state of you two. Where have you been?’

She pulled them both close, hugging them, and they hugged her back.

‘Sorry, Mother, we went to see the fair.’

Their mother pulled away from them both. ‘Well, what matters now is that you’re both safe and home in one piece. Come inside. You smell terrible. A hot bath and your nightdresses on before we talk about any of this terrible business.’

She led them by the hand up the steps to the house. Their father nodded at them both.

‘Do what your mother said and then we’ll talk about your fraternising with those people without our permission.’

Eleanor turned her head to look at him, catching the sigh that escaped his lips as his shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t as angry as she’d thought. She said a prayer for all the people back at the fairground and for James, because she wanted to see him again.

1 September 1929

The workmen had almost finished building the large house on the edge of Lake Windermere and were relieved it was almost over. The slate and limestone house was impressive. Although not as large as some of the homes along this stretch of the lake, it was still a sight to behold. It was the cellar that the builders didn’t like; there was a real sense of desolation down there. There was a problem with the drains, from which a terrible stench was emanating, and they had drawn matches to see who was going down to put it right. They had argued and bickered amongst themselves for the last thirty minutes. Not one of them was brave enough to admit that for some unknown reason they were terrified to go down there now daylight was fading fast.

In the end it had been Fred and Billy who had agreed to do it for an extra two hours’ pay. The family hadn’t moved in yet but last week there had been a delivery of packing boxes and crates, which had been stored in the cellar. They would be moving in in the next few days but they wouldn’t be able to if the house still smelt this bad. Fred and Billy had laughed and joked to their friends to send a search party out to look for them if they weren’t at the pub by eight o’clock. As they’d stood watching the others drive away a silence had descended. Neither of them particularly wanted to go back inside to work now the others had left, especially not in the cellar.

It had been Fred who had gone back in first. ‘The quicker we get it done, the quicker we’ll be out of here and home for tea.’

Billy watched him. A gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right made his feet reluctant to follow his friend, who was ten years older and probably a lot wiser than him. He had to force himself to go inside. They took the handheld lamps so they could at least see what they would be doing down there. With the house just being built the cellar was one big space with some shelves lining one wall, ready to store anything else that was surplus to requirements upstairs out of the way. Fred led the way with Billy close behind and they walked across the space until they found the corner where the drain that led into the sewerage pipe was. There was an awful smell, so Billy had tied his handkerchief around his nose. Fred laughed at him.

‘You great soft bugger, what’s the matter with you?’

They reached the drain and it took the pair of them to lift the heavy-duty cover from it, both of them putting their hands through the gaps in the bars and pulling at the same time. Billy bent his knees, gripped the iron cover and then let out a scream so high-pitched that if you’d asked Fred what it sounded like he would have said a girl who’d just had a spider run across her hand. Billy leapt back from the hole in the ground and Fred did the same, as if he had no idea why but seemed to think it was a good idea.

‘Jesus Christ, Billy, what are you trying to do – give me a bloody heart attack? What’s the matter with you, lad?’

‘Something touched my hand, Fred. It brushed against my fingers and it felt freezing cold.’

Fred started to laugh. He looked at his friend’s face, which was almost glowing it was so white, and he really began to chuckle.

‘You’re an idiot. What did you think it was? Someone trying to hold your hand from the sewers?’

‘I don’t know what the hell it was, Fred, but I’m telling you now, something touched me.’

Fred wiped at his hands with his sleeve and tried to stop laughing, but the harder he tried the harder it was to stop.

‘It will have been a water rat. This place is right next to the lake. There’s bound to be all sorts of vermin running around down there. Must have took a liking to you, young Billy. You should be grateful it didn’t decide to take your finger off and eat it for its tea.’

Billy shuddered; he didn’t like rats or mice.

‘Now stop behaving like your Emma and let’s get this done. The quicker we see what’s causing the blockage and move it the faster we can go home and still get paid.’

Billy nodded his head and stepped forward. He didn’t want to put his hand down there but he didn’t have any choice. If whatever it was that had brushed against his hand was a rat it was a bloody big one. On the count of three they heaved the drain cover off and dropped it onto the floor.

‘Now get down on your hands and knees and take a look down into that hole; see what might be causing the blockage.’

Billy shook his head. ‘You stick your head down there. What if it’s waiting for one of us?’

Fred rolled his eyes at Billy and took the lamp he’d put down onto the floor. He hovered over the hole. The smell was bad. Fred mumbled that he had no doubt some animal had got trapped down there and died. He didn’t want to go fishing around in the drains and have to move some rotting animal corpse but he did want to go home and put his feet up, so he knelt down to take a closer look.

Billy, who was ready to run should anything dark and hairy come up through the hole, watched Fred with an expression of horror etched onto his face. Fred leant right down and peered into the blackness then let out a scream and jumped back.

‘What was it? What did you see?’

‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I think it was a rat but it was massive. It moved too fast to be sure but there’s something at the bottom that’s going to need shifting. Whatever it is stinks and must be causing the smell.’

‘How are we going to shift it? I’m not going down if there’s a huge rat running around. Christ, it’s probably looking for its tea and if there’s one there will be hundreds more. Just put the cover back over and tell them we couldn’t find anything.’

‘Some hero you are, Billy. You’re scared of your own shadow. It won’t be interested in me or you when it’s got something else to eat. Go upstairs and get one of the empty sacks. I’ll go down and put the sack over it and scoop it up, then you can take it off me and pull me back out. It will take five minutes at the most and then we can get out of here.’

Billy looked at Fred with fresh admiration and then turned and ran. It was almost dark now and what little daylight was left was dirty grey, streaked with black. He grabbed a sack and heard a muffled shout from the cellar; Billy ran as fast as his legs would let him. Where was Fred? He shone his lantern around but the vast room was empty as far as he could see.

‘Fred, stop mucking around. Where are you?’

But there was no reply. He knew that his friend couldn’t have gone upstairs without Billy bumping into him and he felt a ball of dread lodge in the back of his throat. What if he’d fallen down into that hole and was stuck in the drains? He ran across to the black hole, which seemed to have doubled in size since the last time he’d looked into it a couple of minutes ago.

Fred’s lantern was on the floor and Billy called his friend again. A muffled grunt from inside the hole made Billy force himself to kneel down and look inside. He couldn’t see Fred, but he could see whatever it was that Fred had been talking about at the bottom of the hole. Billy leant closer. The thing was moving ever so slowly but it was definitely moving. He opened his mouth to shout to Fred again and was pulled down into the hole by something with sharp nails that scraped against his skin, making him shiver in disgust. He was so shocked that he couldn’t speak. As he was falling he hit his head on a large rock that was jutting out of the wall, and just before he lost consciousness he saw a face in front of him unlike any he’d ever seen before, one that was ghostly grey with two huge red eyes and a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth.