A Death Displaced (27 page)

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Authors: Andrew Butcher

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Fantasy

BOOK: A Death Displaced
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He stopped thinking for a moment and walked around the house, marching frantically, burning off whatever emotional chemicals coursed through his body. Thursday was a few days away, and Caroline could help him understand his thoughts, yes, but no … she couldn’t, how could he tell her about these things? No way.

With a return to the beanbag chair, he texted Tom, letting him know he could come over. Tom replied and said he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Nick was tempted to try to bring on a vision of the future, knowing now that he could do it at will. It had worked before. Well, not entirely; it had been inaccurate. Aldrich hadn’t been where the vision had shown he would be. But, Nick
had
seen his brothers in the premonition … and they
had
come along. So it was right about that at least.  Also, an extra layer to his ability was seeing the future through the imagery in his dreams.

I’m an Oracle.
He recalled the portal’s words. If the portal recognised him, then were there others like him? On the other side?
Am I AN oracle or THE Oracle?
It was exciting; his mind riled itself up, and he was about to jiggle in the beanbag chair apprehensively, but soon began to worry, stepping closer to the pit.

Could he be in danger because the portal recognised him? Whatever beings were on the other side, what did they think towards oracles, or The Oracle, or whatever? Worry did its usual thing and brought with itself more material to torment him with. He mulled over if Ryan could be trusted to adequately destroy evidence. It seemed too good to be true, the way he conveniently showed up.

Then Nick gave up ruminating and came to a conclusion: more mysteries had been opened up than solved, but that was life; he couldn’t find closure for everything.

All this time he’d been trying to force peace upon himself. Most the self-help and spiritual programmes he’d practiced had taught acceptance and being non-judgemental, but it had never truly sunk in.

In his reflective mood, he remembered a time he’d sat on a pebbled beach to the south of Lansin Island. Cross-legged, he’d held his palm out, facing upwards, and had placed a perfectly spherical pebble in the centre of it. He’d wobbled his hand side to side, bouncing the pebble around, and observed the way he could feel its evenly distributed weight. There was a kind of symmetry to it all: the little stone would roll and jump in his moving hand, but would always return to the centre in the end. And even when he’d fiercely shook his hand, he could sense if he’d gone too far and if the pebble would fall away or not. Maybe land in the pit.

Right now, he saw himself as that little stone, and his life as the palm. Before the vision of Juliet falling to her death, he’d worked hard to find balance. He’d been sure the right mixture of self-help exercises and a degree of ‘enlightenment’ would keep him in that centre. But then he’d had the premonition, and his life shook more wildly, in danger of going over the edge. Then finding out paranormal abilities were real, that there was an Otherworld, discovering how his mum was murdered, falling for Juliet so suddenly, coming close to murder … The pebble hopped around like mad.

But for this moment, he managed to bring himself back to the middle of the palm, and recalled something Juliet had said to him on the way to Grendel Manor: that it was always better to know the truth, so you could learn from it and grow from it.

Confidently, he took a mental leap away from the pit, and found himself experiencing a deep acceptance of the situation. No giddy excitement, no worry for the future, no doubts of his ability, but instead: a solid and humble trust in life.

Chapter 22

Luckily, it was dark. Juliet didn’t want people to notice the stains that covered her clothes. Her walk was fast, but the cold still numbed her face. The day hadn’t been so harsh when the sun was up, but now it was bitterly cold.

The lack of light was unwelcoming, and left her feeling vulnerable as she walked for Chanton. If she hadn’t been so proud, or so disgusted, she could have been dropped off closer. Outside again, she clenched her fists, fed up with how much of the day she’d spent outdoors.

  After arriving home, she headed straight for the shower. As she undressed and turned the shower-dial, she began to cry. Her chest heaved, she sunk to the floor.
Murder.
The word danced wickedly in her mind.

Tommy had ruined it for her and Nicolas. She’d begun to like him and had even wanted to go on a date, but now all she saw was murder, murder, murder. Aldrich’s bloodied body imprinted in her mind like a permanent scar.

She punched her leg, thudding repeatedly and screaming in frustration, knowing it would bruise. When her arm ached and her thigh was numb, she stopped. The sound of running water began to calm her. She stood again, feeling the wounds and scrapes of the day, and struggled on the leg she’d just beaten. The exploding portal had thrown her a few metres and she’d met the ground with her left shoulder. Now it throbbed.

Climbing into the shower, she sighed. The water was sweet on her body, caressing and comforting her.
Harry Cracknel, I didn’t exactly help him.
Her legs wobbled, and the guilt soaked her up.
Kim will be treated better now, Ryan is free to be a good person and support her financially.
Maybe Harry would be content that Kim was safe and happy. Or did he want revenge?

She shuddered
. Revenge, like what Tommy got for his mother.

Was that what Samantha Crystan had wanted? Juliet wasn’t sure, but felt satisfied that she’d done more than enough for Samantha. 

Then the worst thought came to her. What if Aldrich appeared as a spirit? Could he do that? Had he even been human? If not, would he have left a spirit behind? Did he have a soul? The thoughts were enough to shiver bumps down her body. She got out the shower fast and grabbed a towel.

After drying herself, she put on a mocha silk dressing gown. It was blissful to be clean and feel the loving material on her skin. She walked across the upstairs hallway and stopped when a spirit appeared. The muscles of her abdomen contracted, and she launched back a step.

The air fizzled around the spirit as if it didn’t belong in this universe. It was Samantha, and this time she was smiling, not bloody and covered in wounds. ‘Thank you, Juliet.’ She flickered statically.

Juliet’s organs were caught in her throat, having expected Aldrich to appear and maybe push her down the stairs.
My heart can’t take this on a regular basis.
She found a breath, reassuring herself.

‘You’re welcome.’ Juliet nodded. But there were things she had to know. ‘Was all of this worth it? Will your family be better off now?’

The spirit’s eyes stared in the same vacant way they had before, except there appeared now to be a subtle and peaceful undertone to them. ‘I … I can see fragments of what is, and what will be.’ She disappeared for a second, then flashed back into existence. ‘I see that my husband will put his life back together. The news will be hard for him to take at first, but he will move on … and love again.’

Although she hadn’t realised her shoulders were raised, Juliet felt some relief as they sank back down.
At least Nick’s father will benefit from this.

‘But Tommy …’ Samantha continued. ‘I fear he will take it the hardest. He will be able to cope as long as my family support him, but I can’t see everything.’ Again, she vanished and swiftly returned. ‘It’s all just glimpses and different outcomes … and there are many variables. What Tommy has done, though …’ The peaceful tinge left her eyes. ‘It might change him.’

The words had an ominous weight to them, stealing some of Juliet’s strength. One of the last people she wanted to think of was Tommy. And, begrudgingly, she was about to ask about the other people in that list. ‘Will Ryan keep his promise?’

‘Yes … but in his own way.’

That doesn’t sound promising,
thought Juliet. Then Samantha said, ‘I must go soon. I’m struggling to remain here.’ Though, she didn’t look like she was struggling; her ghostly face was slack and the empty-but-peaceful stare had returned to her eyes.

‘Okay,’ said Juliet. ‘But I need to know before you disappear, did Aldrich leave a spirit behind?’ She held her breath.

‘No, he didn’t leave a ghost. I checked when he died. He was never … entirely human. And in the end I think he wanted to die.’

Juliet sighed, releasing the breath she’d held in. ‘Thank you.’ Then more questions nagged at her mind. ‘So is this what you wanted? Are you able to move on now?’

The air buzzed around Samantha, seeming to glow. ‘You’ve brought the truth to my family. That’s what I wanted, yes. But I can’t move on yet. There are too many variables, too many possible outcomes for the future. I will watch over my family for a while longer.’

All Juliet seemed able to give in response was a smile.
I wonder if any spirits look over me.

Then Samantha said, ‘Juliet, please don’t be so hard on Nicolas.’ And she vanished.

She was telling the truth. That wasn’t like the way Rowena Howard had moved on,
Juliet contemplated, wondering if Samantha would be coming back to visit her again.

Although happy to have helped, she desperately hoped that would be the last time she saw the spirit of Nick’s mum. It was unfair that Samantha had asked her to be less hard on Nicolas. It wasn’t
him
who’d frightened her. Tommy was the repulsive factor. How could she be with Nicolas and not think of what his brother had done? And not only that, choices
she
had made also led to Aldrich’s murder. The Crystan family would only be a reminder of her stupidity.

An acidic grumble in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since the morning. She couldn’t imagine having a full meal just yet; the thought of it nauseated her. Downstairs, she cautiously ate a breakfast bar.

After walking to the living room and curling up on the sofa, she thought of when the redecorating of Chanton Hillview would be complete. She wondered how much of the Diet and Nutrition home-study course she had left. She stressed over how little Spanish she’d learnt so far. She remembered how last minute she’d cancelled her Sunday shift at the charity shop. She imagined having to keep up her exercise routine. She wearily gazed around at the size of her house, and then huffed, picturing the scale of the garden in her mind. It required so much maintenance. Then she got annoyed knowing that she’d taken on all of it by choice.

It’s too much.

Under her skin, it was like tiny screaming worms wriggled about, pushing and pulling her in different directions. She wanted so badly to get away, go somewhere,
anywhere.
It seemed as if the room she sat in was crushing down upon her, treating her as a small, helpless, and pitiful thing. 

With a new determination she stood up, returned to the bathroom, searched the filthy jeans she’d left on the floor, and found her mobile. About to tap out a text to her mother, she realised she had a message from Roy.
She hadn’t checked her mobile since she’d been sat on the toppled tree in the woods.

The text read:

 

Some1 came 2 work 2day. Looking 4 u. They r going 2 visit u later.

 

She shook her head at Roy’s lazy text. Her first thought was ridiculous but caused a panic:
Is it the police looking for me?
But how could it be? Roy would have said, and also, they couldn’t have known about Aldrich’s death before it even happened.
Stupid.
Thinking of the police, she put her stained clothes in the wash in case the dirt was somehow evidence.

Whoever was looking for her was going to visit tonight, so she decided to just wait and see. Maybe they had already come by her house when she wasn’t in, and if so, she could ask Roy for more information when she next saw him.

She opened a new text and added her mother as the recipient:

 

Hi, Mum. I’m going to come to Spain for a few weeks.

I need to get away from this island, just for now.

Can you book me flights for Wednesday please, and can I stay with you and Dad?

 

Wednesday would be fine. It was short-notice, but she could close Chanton Hillview if Roy didn’t want to cover her for that long. The money didn’t matter; she’d pay the staff whether it was kept open or not, and she could always wait until she got back to see the new décor.

There was a knock at the front door. Her thumb hovered over the send button, but then she placed her mobile on the sofa and anxiously advanced on the door. She half opened it.

A woman stood outside. Her hair was silvery grey, thin, but shoulder length. She was short and wore a thick, brown winter coat, and a grey scarf and matching gloves. Juliet recognised her features, but the lady’s skin was too leathery and wrinkled. The resemblance was uncanny.
It couldn’t be.

The woman’s eyes glistened with delight as she smiled. Her teeth had the yellow sheen of age and were uneven, but her grin was beautiful and genuine.
It is.

Juliet swung the door open fully, and her jaw dropped, looking like a shocked yawn. Her eyes stirred with tears. ‘Gran?’

Chapter 23

Low patters came from the front door, and Nick moved to answer it. Tom waited on the porch. He gazed around at the massive trees in the dark and said, ‘If I get bird crap on my car, I won’t be happy.’

Nick laughed. ‘I can’t make any promises I’m afraid.’

Tom came inside and Nick closed the door behind him. They walked to the end of the hall where the kitchen was. It was obvious to Nick that his brother was looking at the unfurnished state of the room, the cracks in the walls, and the depressing look of the place.

‘I could help you do this house up. If you wanted.’

Nick huffed light-heartedly. ‘Thanks. That would be nice if I had the money.’

‘Can’t Mora take you on full time?’

‘She’s already employed more people than she needs. I wouldn’t want to ask.’

‘Hmm … Have you looked anywhere else for a job?’

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