Fourteen Days (10 page)

He backed toward the door, unable to run or scream. “Who are you?” he struggled to ask.

“Let me go,” she said, inches from him. “Please. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my fault. Please, let me go. Take me away from here.” She started to weep.

No matter how much he moved away from her grasp, the door became farther and farther away. “Who are you?” he asked again.

She finally reached him and clutched his tee shirt, staining it with her blood. He closed his eyes, unable to take it any longer. He could feel himself fall backwards to the ground.

As he hit the hard wooden floor, he heard her whisper, “My name is Christina Long.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Nicky asked, standing over Richard’s naked body.

Disoriented, he opened his eyes, startled by her presence. He looked around the room and then down at his exposed self.

“Why are you in here? And why the hell are you naked?” she asked, chuckling.

Suddenly he remembered why he was in there. Staring at the now open door, he sat up on the bed, panicked. “Did you see her?”

“See who?”

“The woman. Did you see her on the landing?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Please tell me you’re not talking about that bloody ghost again.”

“Of course I am!” he snapped, getting off the bed. “I saw her! She was sitting, plain as day, on our bed!” He walked over to the door, barging past Nicky in the process. “I’m not making it up! And I’m not crazy, I saw her! I swear to God!” He stepped out onto the landing and pointed to their bedroom. “She was right there, looking straight at me!”

Nicky said nothing.

“Are you listening to me, Nicky?” he asked. “I saw her clear as day. As clear as you are right now!”

“Look, calm down, you’re scaring me.”

“
You’re
bloody scared,” he barked, in disbelief. “How d’ya think I feel? I just saw a dead woman sitting on our bed—the bed we sleep on every night!”

Walking up to him, she glanced ahead at their bedroom. “There’s nothing there. Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”

Turning to her, his body gripped with frustration, he said, “Don’t patronize me, Nic. It wasn’t a dream. The only reason I was in there and passed out was because I tried to get away from her. She followed me over to the door. She even knocked on it, for Christ’s sake!”

He started to take in deep, controlled breaths to calm himself. “Look,” he said, more settled. “Have you ever seen me so serious about something? Do I look like I’m bullshitting you?”

She forced a smile. “Well, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re standing in front of me naked.”

He walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, Nic,” he replied, stepping back onto the landing.

She shook her head with a look of annoyance. “I’m sorry, but it’s difficult for me to take you seriously when you’ve just told me that the previous owner’s ghost chased you across the landing.”

As he was about to reply, he paused for a second; something had occurred to him. “I don’t think it was the previous owner. I think it was someone else. Someone called Christina Long.”

“Who’s Christina Long?” she asked, clearly humoring him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She told me her name in my dream.”

Instead of busting out with laughter, she snapped, “Look, this ends right here, right now! You sound like a lunatic! There must be something wrong with you. Maybe it was from the fall you had at work or something.”

“It has nothing to do with what happened at work. My mind is fine. I just want you to believe me. Look, I admit that some of the other things could be explained, but this…”

She didn’t reply—she couldn’t. Everything had already been said a hundred times before. The two just stood staring at each other in silence, until Richard finally stormed across the landing, into the bedroom, his fists up as if ready to fight someone. When he saw that the room was empty, he dropped his hands and raided his cupboard for clean clothes, leaving Nicky still standing, glaring at him, but still with a clear glimmer of concern in her eyes.

After he had dressed, he stomped down the stairs, out of sight.

Richard was sitting on the couch, staring into space, deep in thought. Nicky was sitting opposite on the single sofa chair, ignoring him.

He thought about the name: Christina Long. He repeated it over and over in his head, hoping that something would click into place. But he knew no one by Christina, or even by the surname Long. Who the hell was this woman if not his former homeowner? Was she perhaps a former lover of the last owner, Mr. Young—or even his sister? Or maybe the sister of either Mr. or Mrs. Rees? Maybe the dream
was
just a dream. For all Richard knew, he could have heard the name Christina Long on TV, or in a movie, and placed it in his dream. So many possibilities ran through his mind. But one thing he was certain of: there was a ghost living in his house.

And he had to get rid of it. Now.

He glanced over at his wife, who was clearly not talking to him, pretending to be interested in the movie. Unsure of what to say to her without flaring up another argument, he remained silent about the subject.
Probably best not to include her in all of this
, he thought.
She just doesn’t understand. I’m sick of fighting with her. I don’t need her help anyway. I’m better off dealing with it on my own
.

“Nic?” he said.

She didn’t answer.

“Nic? I’m sorry I went a bit mad earlier.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, still not looking at him.

“Yes it does. I’m sorry. You’re right. It probably
was
just a dream. I haven’t been sleeping very well; my mind’s been a little hazy the last few days.”

Turning to him, she forced a smile, clearly struggling to shake off the disagreement. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s drop it. I can’t be bothered with all of this. I’m already stressed out at work, I don’t need to come home to more.”

He nodded, now even more convinced not to involve her any further. “Yeah, let’s drop it.” He could still feel tension in the air so he changed the subject. “So, what’s wrong in work? Anything serious?”

She shrugged. “Oh, the usual, but it’s been getting to me lately.”

“So why don’t you look for another job?”

“I have been thinking about it, but…”

“Look, if it’s making you feel stressed then you should quit. Find somewhere else to work. I’m sure you’ll get something easily.” He smiled. “You could work with me.”

She gave him a look of disbelief. “Work with you? No thank you.”

“Why not? What’s wrong with working with me?”

“Look, Rich, I love you loads, but I couldn’t think of anything
worse
than working with my husband every single day.”

“What’s the big deal? Lots of couples do.”

“I’m sure they do, but spending twenty-four hours together isn’t healthy. I need space—we both do. Trust me, it’d be an absolute nightmare.”

“Okay, I get your point, but the offer’s there if you want it.”

“Thank you for the offer.” She nodded and smiled. “But no thank you. I’ll just have to grin and bear it for another few months. My boss is going on maternity leave soon, so Brian’ll be in charge.”

Who the hell is Brian?
Richard thought, as he nodded in agreement.
Got to start taking more of an interest in her job.

But for now, Richard had bigger fish to fry. And tomorrow he would find out whether or not Christina Long was just a random name—or in fact the woman in the white dress.

Tomorrow he would begin his investigation.

But first he would have to face sleeping on the same bed that she had sat on.

After several hours of watching TV, Nicky stood up noisily from the couch, yawning as she stretched her arms up to the ceiling. “Right then, I’m off to bed. Make sure—”

But before she could finish, Richard said, “I’m coming too.” He virtually leaped up from a sitting position, and yawned. “I’m knackered. Been a long day.” But he was far from tired. The idea of sitting in the living room alone—at night—made him wince. The only time the fear totally subsided was when he was with Nicky. And after what had happened today, he was in no fit state to go solo.

She looked at him as if suspicious of his actions. “You don’t look tired. Stay down here and watch TV if you like. I don’t mind. Honestly.”

“No, no. I’m coming up too,” he said, shaking his head in protest. “Got some stuff to do tomorrow.”

She smirked at him. “Stuff? What stuff? You mean laze about the house.” She turned the TV off and left the room.

Fake-laughing, he followed her. “Very funny. It’s tough doing nothing all day, you know. Got to get my beauty sleep.”

She led the way upstairs into the bathroom.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Nicky brushed her teeth over the sink. Richard sat on the edge of the bath, watching her. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, with a mouthful of foamy toothpaste before spitting it out into the sink.

“I’m waiting for you?”

Swilling her mouth out with water and spitting, she frowned. “Aren’t you going to brush your teeth?”

He nodded, and then joined her at the sink. Just as he squirted toothpaste onto his toothbrush he saw her head for the door. “Where are you going?”

She turned to face him, grimacing in bafflement. “To bed. Where do you think?”

“Hang on a second.” He cleaned his teeth in record time, watching her through the mirror as she stood in the doorway. He quickly spat in the sink and followed Nicky out of the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as they walked across the landing toward the bedroom.

“Nothing,” he said, standing close to her.

“You’re being weird.” She opened the bedroom door and stepped inside the darkened room. Richard followed, all the time with his eyes fixed on the bed, praying that when the lights went on, the woman with the white dress wasn’t sitting there again, staring with those gloomy, tear-filled eyes.

Nicky flicked on the switch and the room came to life with light.

The bed was empty.

Relief washed over him as he closed the door. But oddly, a part of him wanted to see her sitting on his bed. At least then his skeptical wife would see for herself, instead of mocking him, or even thinking that he was crazy.

Nicky put on the bedside lamp and turned the main light off. With the room dimly lit, they climbed into bed. Richard spooned up to his wife. She turned to him and asked, “Are you sure everything’s all right?”

He forced a smile and held her tightly. “Everything’s fine.” He looked into her eyes. “I love you, Nic. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she reassured him, smiling. “I love you more than anything.”

He squeezed her, then kissed her on the cheek. “Good night, babe.”

She kissed him back. “Good night,” she whispered, turning the other way. “See you in the morning.”

He watched her closely, and remained watching until she fell asleep.

Alone in the darkness again.

The room changed in appearance. The walls and ceiling seemed closer, almost suffocating him. Every object he could make out looked like a figure: the chair resembled a crouched-down child, the dressing-gown hooked behind the door reminded him of a hanging corpse, and he could swear that there were two feet sticking out from under the curtains. The loneliness of the house crept all around him, and the fear had well and truly returned. The fact that Nicky was right beside him meant nothing. He had been abandoned and left to face the house that he had once loved, yet again.