Colton Manor (5 page)

She
took the opportunity to phone the real estate agency, and Yvette confirmed that everything Bonnie had told her was true. Damien had also left his wallet on the kitchen bench and she couldn’t resist taking a peek inside. His license showed that his name really was Damien King and he lived in town.

When he still h
adn’t made an appearance by eleven Ursula went into her studio and tried to do some painting. Her major inspiration was Monet and she was working on an impressionistic picture of a garden in bloom, but for some reason she just couldn’t get it right. Usually her pieces were bright and upbeat, but lately she’d found a lot of darker colours creeping in. She assumed it was because of the depressing weather, which was grey and rainy once more. She let out a sigh when she realised she probably wouldn’t make it down to the beach again today.

It was almost midday when she
finally heard Damien’s door open down the hall. Not wanting to look too eager to see him, she waited till a few moments had passed before she went downstairs to join him in the kitchen.

“
Good morning,” she said cheerfully as she pushed open the door. Damien was still dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, but he’d put a blue dressing gown on over them. He looked tired and groggy. “Or should that be good afternoon?”

“Morning,
” he mumbled.

“You
look like you need a coffee.”

“Yeah
, I’ll make it.” He busied himself filling the kettle and setting out two cups. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost midday.”
He stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at her.

“You’re kidding? I never
sleep in late.”

“Check
if you don’t believe me,” she replied, pointing at the wall clock behind him.

He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.
“Wow, I must be coming down with something because I don’t feel very well at all.” When he didn’t mention anything about the previous night, Ursula decided he was probably embarrassed about the whole thing and she didn’t say anything either. He seemed to be in a bad mood, answering her questions in monosyllables and burying his head in an old newspaper. Taking the hint she went back upstairs to her studio and continued to paint. After a while she heard him go back to his room.

They didn’t cross paths for the
rest of the day, and he left the house at around three o’clock without saying anything to her. Ursula watched him get into his car and drive away. It was almost seven by the time he returned. She was in her bedroom when he knocked on the door. He looked much better than he had earlier in the day, and seemed to be in a much cheerier mood.

“Hey, I know this is late notice but I was wondering if I could shou
t you to dinner in town if you haven’t already eaten. It’s my way of saying thanks for last night.” Ursula did not need to be asked twice. She had only been into town once since she’d arrived and she really needed to get out of the house and socialize.

“
Sure. Just give me a few minutes to get ready.” Opening the wardrobe door she picked out a pink and white polka dot 1950s halter neck dress with a white belt, teamed with a pair of kitten-heeled shoes she’d found in a flea market. It was the most conservative outfit she owned, but it was hard to look too conventional with multi-coloured hair. She and Damien would definitely make an odd looking pair, and she wondered if people would think they were a couple.

She could tell from the look he gave her when she entered the living room
that he approved, and when he held the car door open for her it felt like they were going on a real date, not just a dinner between housemates. The conversation was a little stilted at first, but as they drove around the winding road away from the house they both began to relax. The sun was setting over the ocean, and the mist had cleared for once, making it a lovely evening.

The
French restaurant he took her too was much classier than the places she usually ate at with her friends, and she looked around nervously as the waiter showed them to their seats.

“This place looks really expensive.”

Damien laughed. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a broke student, it seems like such a long time ago that I had to worry about things like that.”

“It couldn’t be that long
ago. How old are you?”

“
Thirty-four. What about you?”

“I’m
twenty-three.”

“Just a child
really.”

“Twenty-three
is not that young. I bet you didn’t consider yourself a child when you were my age.”

“No, but that’s because I didn’t know any better. Now I have the benefit of wisdom a
nd experience. Believe me, at twenty-three you don’t know anything about life.” Ursula felt her hackles begin to stir again, and she thought it wise to change the subject.

“What made you decide to beco
me a science professor anyway?”

“I was one of those kids who
was always doing experiments at home, blowing stuff up and dissecting things. I drove my parents crazy. It wasn’t even something I had to think too much about, I just followed my interest and ended up teaching. I love it and wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“You’re very lucky. Not many people know what they want to do from childhood. Some people spend their whole lives looking
for the right career.”

“What about you? What do you want to do?”

“Well, paint, obviously.”

“No, I mean seriously, for a living.
”

“Paint,” she repeated, trying to keep her voice light.

He laughed before realizing she was wasn’t joking. “Painting is great, but it’s really just a hobby. You need to have some kind of career plan in place or you could find yourself working at a checkout for the rest of your life. Believe me, you don’t want that.” Ursula could hardly believe what she was hearing. Damien Knight, a man she had known for just over twenty-four hours, actually had the never to lecture her on her career choices. It was bad enough that she had to hear it from her parents every time she spoke to them, but from a virtual stranger it was too much.

“
I know many people who make a living through art. It’s not impossible and there’s nothing else I want to do besides paint,” she replied, trying hard to keep her temper under control.

“When you say ‘make a living’
do you mean they are earning enough to be comfortable or just scraping by?”

“Money isn’t important to everyone, you know. Some people are happy to live without much just as long
as they can do what they want and be free.”

“Free to be poor,
to live off the government and worry about where the next meal is going to come from.  Is that what you want?”

“It’s not like that at all. None of my friends live off the government, except for the occasional grant
, which is very hard to come by. They don’t have much in the way of material possessions, but they’re happy. Not everyone wants to be a corporate drone living for their four weeks of annual leave each year.” She was working herself up to say more when she noticed his eyes were twinkling. “Why do I get the feeling you’re winding me up?”

“I
realised last night when we were talking about ghosts that it’s very easy to do. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh, so you really believe painting is a good career path then?”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that one,” he said with a laugh. The waiter came and took their order, and Ursula was only a tiny bit embarrassed when Damien had to explain what the fancy dishes were to her. The food was fantastic and they talked easily during the meal. When they’d finished eating she was reluctant to go back to the house.

Fortunately
Damien ran into a group of his friends as they were leaving the restaurant and they invited them to join the group for a drink. Although his friends were all older than her, Ursula didn’t feel out of place at all. Everyone went out of their way to make sure she felt included, and she couldn’t help giggling when she heard a couple of the guys congratulating Damien on snagging a young woman. When he tried to explain that they were just housemates they refused to believe him and teased him about going through an early mid-life crisis.

It was late when they
left the pub. As they drove towards the outskirts of town, the street lights grew scarcer and then disappeared altogether. Ursula couldn’t help stealing a few sideways glances at Damien in the dark as she wondered if he’d kiss her again tonight. He seemed to read her mind because when they were a few miles from Colton Manor he finally brought up the subject of the previous evening.

“I can’t believe how bad I felt when I woke up today. It was like I hadn’t slept at all.”

“It doesn’t really surprise me. You must have lost a couple of hours. It took me ages to get back to sleep.”

Damien
glanced at her without comprehension. “What are you talking about? I went to bed right after you.”

“Your sleepwalking episod
e, of course.” This time he turned to look at her completely, almost running the car off the road. “God, look out, Damien.”

“S
orry. Seriously, Ursula, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Very funny but you already t
old me you were taking me out to say thanks for last night.”

“Yes, for cooking me dinner. What did you think I meant?”

“Are you joking?” She could tell by his expression that he wasn’t. “You really don’t remember anything about last night?”

“No. I finished my glass
of wine and went to bed about fifteen minutes after you, and I woke up this morning feeling like crap. That’s it.”

“
Damien, I found you down in the cellar last night, sleep walking. We had a cup of tea and then and we…….well, we kissed. I didn’t mention it today because I thought you were embarrassed or something.”

“
We kissed? My god, this is bizarre. How could I not remember any of this?” By now they were almost home, and as they turned into the drive Colton Manor loomed ahead of them in the darkness. At the sight of the house Ursula was overcome with a feeling of dread. It looked so sinister and foreboding, crouched there like some sort of living creature waiting to pounce.

“Why are all the lights out downstairs?
” she said. “I’m positive I left a couple on so we wouldn’t be coming home in the dark. Did you turn them off before we left?”

“
No, you must have been mistaken. At the moment I’m a bit more concerned about my sleep-walking. I’ve heard of people carrying on conversations when they’re asleep and not remembering it the next day. Do you think that’s what happened to me?”

             
“Yes, I’ve heard of that too. I’m so sure I left those lights on.”

             
“Would you forget about the lights for a minute,” yelled Damien. His voice was very loud in the car, causing Ursula to jump. She could only stare at him in shock. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ursula, this whole thing has just freaked me out a bit.”

             
“Yeah, me too,” she replied, “but there’s no need to yell at me. Please don’t do it again.”

             
“You have my word. That was not like me at all. I don’t understand what’s going on.” When Damien pulled up in front of Colton Manor they both just sat there for a while staring at the house. Ursula was the first to speak.

“I hate to bring this up now, but do you think it could have anythi
ng to do with the ghost stories?”

He gave her
a stern look. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. We need to put all thoughts of ghosts and ghouls from our minds because it was probably talking about those stories that caused me to sleep walk.” They were silent as they walked up the path together and Ursula unlocked the front door. When Damien switched on the light in the entrance hall she noticed that he looked very tired again, much as he had that morning. His eyes had sparkled with laughter at dinner, but now they were heavy and glazed.

             
“I was going to ask you if you wanted a cup of tea before bed but you look exhausted.”

             
“Yeah, I’m not feeling very well. I think I’ll turn straight in. Thanks for a nice evening.” He didn’t even look at her as he turned towards the stairs, and Ursula noticed that he stumbled on the first step. If she didn’t know any better she’d say he was drunk, but she’d only seen him have two glasses of wine all night.

             
“See you in the morning,” she called after him but he didn’t reply.  She thought about going straight to bed too, but there was no way she’d be able to fall asleep after Damien’s strange behaviour. His outburst in the car had shaken her up more than she wanted to admit, and made her wonder if he really was what he seemed to be. Although his identity had checked it, he could still be unstable, and she didn’t relish the thought of sleeping in the room right next to him.

Instead
of going upstairs she made herself a cup of tea and then settled on the couch to watch television. She found an old black and white movie, and despite her worries she was very engrossed in it when the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up. She had the distinct sense that someone was watching her.