Tanners Dell: Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror (9 page)

“I’m a humanist but, yes, I believe in spirit too. Well, I do now!”

“That’s fine. Light over darkness is all I ask, because you need to visit Kristy and you’re going to need a shield of armour when you go.”

“She’s possessed, isn’t she – like Jack was?” Becky’s gaze once more flitted around the room. “I’m scared, Celeste. Really scared of going because of what I might see, and, well, do you know if just being with someone who’s possessed means it will latch onto you? My biggest fear is to lose my mind, to lose who I am.”

“Do you mean, ‘is it contagious’? I don’t think so. During exorcisms it has been known for an evil entity to attach itself onto anther’s aura if it isn’t conducted properly, but I don’t think a demonic possession will come out of the host unless it’s exorcised, no.”

“Okay.”

“How did Dr McGowan come to be possessed, do you know?”

“He hypnotised Ruby. I was there but I didn’t really see what happened because I passed out.”

“Whatever was inside her must have recognised the chance of a more influential and powerful host? Interesting.”

“I’ll be honest – I’m really frightened of even seeing Kristy. She was so sober and so ‘together’. It’s going to be a shock because if it can happen to somebody like her it could happen to anyone. And all she’d done was
visit
Jack, you see? She hadn’t hypnotised him or been present at an exorcism!”

“She wouldn’t have been protected. Just don’t look into her eyes or recognise what is inside her or it will hypnotise you and draw you in. Don’t converse with it and be prepared for it to imitate her very adeptly. I’m guessing she conversed with what she would have thought was Jack. Now, remember your main objective is to get the diary – search her room and ask your nurse friend. Keep your eye on the prize.”

Becky laughed drily. “What choice do I have?”

“We all have choices. You can run away and never come back, of course you can, and you’d be safe.”

“I’m not sure I could live with myself, though.”

“Quite. And my belief is that if we fail in this life we’ll be brought right back in the next one faced with an even harder task.”

“I’m glad I don’t believe what you believe!”

“Now listen – one more thing – I want you to promise me on your life that you will not go to Woodsend on your own looking for Alice. I have a bad feeling about that. It’s a far more dangerous place than you can ever imagine. I see windows and doors in every house blackened and closed. Locked and barred. There is fear imprisoning those in every household there and with good reason. Don’t go.”

“Okay but at some point I’m going to have to. Is there anyone I could trust? I mean, if I get this diary for example, what’s our next step? Because it seems to me that whoever gets involved in this is almost immediately put in harm’s way. We need someone who can take action quickly and who has contacts. I wondered about a young police officer I met - Toby Harbour?”

“How well do you know him?”

“He sat with me the night Callum was admitted to hospital. He’s young and naïve but I’d trust him.”

“He has to know what he’s up against then or he can’t do it. He’ll be overpowered very quickly. They always overpower the naïve and unsuspecting, like taking candy from a baby.”

“Yes.”

“Make sure you put him fully in the picture and that he has psychic protection. Tell him it is not a joke. We wouldn’t go into a physical battle without armour and weapons, yet most folk are quite happy to take on the dark side totally unarmed. All of which makes it very easy for ‘them’. ”

“I promise. And I’ll ring you to let you know how I get on.”

“Yes please. Oh and I would like to visit Ruby again very soon if that’s okay? I’ll need someone with me though because of that switching – I think it could be very dangerous instructing her in mediumship if she’s not… you know…”

“Yes, I’ll make sure I’m there.”

“Good. Meanwhile I have some work to do on another level.”

A light rain spattered against the window and another heavy gust of wind buffeted the walls. A velvety dusk descended on the room and Celeste seemed to slump in her chair.

“Celeste? Will you be okay?”

The slow hiss of Gerry’s oxygen cylinder seemed to fill the house, reminding them both of his invalid status and vulnerability. “And your husband?”

“I feel a bit sick and woozy, dear, that’s all. I’ve had a long day going over to Drummersgate and then coming back to see to Gerry.”

“Shall I turn the heating up for you? Draw the curtains?”

“The heating’s on full. But yes – do draw the curtains. Thank you. Actually I’m ever so tired.”

Becky reached for a travel rug from a nearby chair and put it across the older lady’s knees. “I’ll have to get a shimmy on but I’ll ring tomorrow and hopefully I’ll have that diary with me. Then we can decide what to do next. Is there anyone you want me to ring to come and help with Gerry?”

“I feel as though I’ve the flu coming on and that’s all we need, isn’t it? I mean I’m no good to anyone if I’m poorly, and you can’t do this on your own. Becky love, you must get some help.” Her voice trailed off somewhat and Becky strained to hear. “Would you pass my address book? I think I’ll ring Gerry’s brother in Scarborough and ask if he’ll have him stay for a while. I want to do it now. Right away.”

“And be here on your own?”

“Yes. It’s for the best.”

***

                            
 
Chapter Ten

Laurel Lawns Private Medical Home

Kristy Silver was not at all well.

After a phone call to check on Callum, Becky took a taxi straight up to Laurel Lawns. The phrase ‘having the devil at your back’ seemed apt, she thought, flying into Reception amid a swirl of leaves. Celeste had given her the heebie-jeebies. Still, hopefully the diary and whatever was in it would be here.

After signing the visitor’s book she took the lift, frowning in concentration as it cranked through the floors to the top. What was so important about this diary? Martha’s predecessor, Linda Hedges, had been the social worker covering Woodsend during the 1990s while Martha was off sick.
Bet she’d found something out and written it down
! The question was, had Martha read it and in doing so, put herself in the firing line? And had she really then sent it to Kristy? It was a distinct possibility. And of course, Celeste seemed to have a hunch that it was here. And Celeste, she was coming to realise, did seem to have an uncanny knack of knowing things others didn’t. The lift bumped to a halt and the doors juddered open.

Although it was only four in the afternoon, the short December day had cast the clinic’s corridors into gloom, and through the elegant Georgian windows, rectangles of lamplight extended over immaculate lawns. Becky walked smartly towards the ward and straight up to the nurses’ station. Her old friend, Nora, looked up and shook her head gravely when she saw her coming. “Are you sure you want to do this, Becky?”

“That bad?”

Nora nodded. Although the same age as herself, Nora seemed drawn and somehow weighed down as she led the way to Kristy’s room. They’d moved her further down the hall, she explained, because of the noises unsettling the others.

“What noises?”

Nora turned to face her when they reached Kristy’s door. “I shouldn’t say this but you and I go way back and, oh God, Becky, you’ll see for yourself in a minute. Frankly, I’ve never known anything like it but no one’s doing a thing to help this woman – they’re just leaving her here! A lot of the nurses have gone off sick, you know? We can’t cope with it. She needs Solitary and expert psychiatry…but Dr Morrow won’t listen and the trustees insist it’s all kept hushed up. Like I said, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, her colleagues and friends have had to be kept away…”

Becky nodded and so Nora took the keys out of her pocket. “Okay, well she’s heavily under and you’ve got a panic button. I’ll be here in a flash if you need me. Just don’t make eye contact. I’m serious – it’s worse if you do.”

Becky nodded and a second later she was in. Behind her the door clicked shut and she took a moment to adjust to the scene, keeping her back to the wall. Inside she said a prayer and pictured white light around herself in the way Celeste had taught.

Kristy’s breathing was rattling in her chest as if there were ten emphysemic men in there. Her wrists and ankles were in tight restraints and her pale, normally silky blonde hair lay matted in clumps on the pillow; her alabaster skin a roadmap of broken veins.

In stark contrast to the fresh cool air outside, a strong sulphurous odour filled the hot, suffocating room; and inside her coat over several layers of woollens, Becky broke into a sickly sweat.

Part of her wanted so badly to help Kristy in the same way Kristy had done her best to help Jack. Another part of her wanted out of here right here and right now. She stared at the virtually unrecognisable creature in the bed. How could this have happened? How?

The diary…keep your eye on the prize
…
this is why you’re here
…

Against all her instincts Becky inched slowly towards the bed. As she drew closer, the overpowering smell of rotten eggs became ever stronger and she tried to inhale only through her mouth, as the sound of increasingly heavy, wheezy breathing filled the room, pulling her into its rhythm.

Finally she was level with the bottom of the bed. Although Kristy’s eyes were shut there was a feeling she, or something within her, was aware of Becky’s presence. Clutching the sheets, Kristy’s fingernails were blackened and bitten to the quick, and blood streaked her arms and chest as if she’d been clawed by a wild animal. Her skin was corpse-white, glazed with feverish sweat, and the carotid pulse throbbed visibly in her neck. The grotesque image was hypnotic though, and Becky had to force herself to stop staring.

A few feet away from the bed was a small cabinet, seemingly empty, but it was worth a look. As quietly as possible she tiptoed over, keeping a nervous eye on Kristy before scanning inside it. No sooner had she bent down though, when a loud chuckle made her stand up again sharply. It seemed to be emanating from deep within Kristy’s chest and sounded like several drunken men laughing raucously at a dirty joke. She had maybe one or two seconds at best to get this diary. Bobbing down she frantically felt around inside the cabinet – no, there was nothing – before backing rapidly towards the door – her focus still fixed on Kristy.

She was almost there, about to reach for the panic button, when Kristy’s eyes flicked open.

OhmyGod!

Becky stared open mouthed. Kristy’s eyes were no longer blue. Rather they were alien pits of oil-black. The lips were beginning to stretch and horrified, Becky couldn’t look away, as a clown smile cracked open to reveal a long, forked tongue that flicked in and out like a viper between rotting teeth.

There was nothing she could do for Kristy; she had to save herself and leave right away. Sod the diary
.

“Yes,” came a choral hiss from Kristy’s body. “Fuck off, bitch!”

Becky fleetingly scanned the rest of the room as she banged furiously on the door for release. The rest of the furniture had clearly been removed because there wasn’t so much as a chest of drawers to look in. Kristy had been left here in a spartan cell until she suffered an undignified and terrifying death, hadn’t she?

In blind panic now she pounded on the door repeatedly, shouting to Nora; while behind her Kristy’s body began to thrash around violently. Involuntarily Becky watched out of the corner of her eye as the sheets worked their way down to reveal a shockingly skeletal torso: every rib jutted out like a blade with the hollow abdomen dipping so far back as to almost touch the spine. The bed was now rattling on the floor with the power of the creature’s fury and the restraints were tearing into Kristy’s skin as her neck jutted back almost at right angles and a scream roared from her throat.

Finally remembering she had been given a panic alarm, Becky pressed it over and over and over just as a key turned from the other side. But it was then, just as she was about to dash through to the safety of the corridor outside, and she almost missed it, that a small, soft voice stopped her in her tracks. She cocked her head to one side.

The look in Nora’s eyes told her she’d heard it too: Kristy’s real voice, tiny and faint as it was, coming from what sounded like the end of a very long tunnel, “In the locker.”

              “You have to get her a priest if only for the last rites,” Becky said as they walked back down the corridor. “She’s Roman Catholic and she’d want it, I know she would. We have to do something for her – it’s terrible, shocking. ”

“I know and I’ve tried but the last priest we had – for Jack – went off sick immediately afterwards. I tried to contact him a week ago but the church official I spoke to said he’d gone on indefinite leave.”

“Relatives then? She must have someone?”

Nora shook her head. “She was married but her ex doesn’t want anything to do with her. I’m not sure what she did in the past but it seriously pissed him off. Sometimes, whatever voice is inside her describes something pretty bad, but not bad enough to merit being left like this. Poor woman. I knew her, you know? She was a really good psychiatric registrar when I was working in Leeds.”

Becky suddenly burst into tears.

“Were you good friends?” Nora put an arm round her shoulders and they stopped by one of the long sash windows overlooking the gardens. “Oh Becky, it’s terrible, I know. It was bad enough with Jack but his mother put pressure on the doctor and got him to agree to a priest. He was sacked, by the way, that doctor! The official line is that we had a hell of a lot of suicides on his watch and he was incompetent, but it wasn’t that – it was getting an exorcist in! I suppose it’s all about reputation in the end and we’ve got quite a few of the rich and famous in here. If you want to know my opinion, I’d say Jack owes his life to us getting him that priest.” She indicated her head towards Kristy’s room. “”I’m afraid she hasn’t got a chance.”

Becky dabbed at her eyes. “I’m really sorry. It was just such a shock seeing her like that. You know all of us who’ve tried to help this patient of ours, Ruby, well we’ve all come under this kind of attack; and I’m tired as well, I suppose.”

“People don’t realise the strain we’re under in this profession. But I’ve never seen anything like Jack or Kristy – ever.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh Becky, I haven’t much time. Dr Morrow will be in any minute and between you and me he’s a right bastard – you know – the sort who dresses you down in front of visitors and other members of staff – enjoys threatening you and seeing you humiliated? I’ve got to be one step ahead all the time, particularly with Kristy’s medication and I can hear her screaming from here!”

“Sorry, yes, and I won’t keep you a moment longer, but before I go Nora, I have to ask you just one more thing – please can I just take a quick peek in Kristy’s locker? There’s a diary that belonged to a social worker from our department and we really need it. It isn’t Kristy’s personal diary or anything like that, I promise, and it’s really important or I wouldn’t ask. I’ll explain later but it’s to do with child abuse and there’s another child at risk. I haven’t time to say anymore, just please trust me. I’ll return it, I swear.”

Nora nodded, already bustling towards the nurses’ station. “Okay then, but we’ll have to be really quick.”

“Thank you so, so much.”

Becky followed Nora past the main desk and down the corridor towards the lockers with her heart pumping wildly. She was going to get the diary! It would be there, she knew it would. Nora fiddled around with a ring of keys and she waited, fighting down the increasing and inexplicable sense of urgency rising inside her, just as a man burst through the double doors. Conspicuous in a suit, she knew at once he was Dr Morrow even before he stopped short and swung round on his heels. Hooded yellow-tinged eyes took in her appearance with one evanescent glance.

With a slight lisp he asked, “Who’s this?”

“An old friend,” Nora answered brightly, handing Becky the diary. “She’s just borrowing a book.”

Nora’s entire demeanour had changed and Becky took her cue to leave promptly.

His name badge, she noted as she left, read, ‘Dr Crispin Morrow.”

She’d look him up.

***