The Patchwork House (14 page)

“What does that mean,
last in
?” Derek asked.

I didn’t have a clue. Clearly neither did Beth.

“Now we know why the clock is in the wine cellar though,” she said. “So that it can be connected to the foundations of the house.”

I took the paper from Beth. “
Only the last in has mastery.
That’s an odd statement. So whoever is last in will have mastery over… which others?”

“Those who were first in?” Beth said.

“First in where?” I asked, peering inside the clock. “It’s pretty cramped in there.”

“Maybe we should try setting the time ourselves,” Beth said.

We stood in silence and let that sink in for a moment.

Slowly, we all moved around to the front of the clock. Nobody made the first move.

“Are you going to do it then?” I asked Beth.

“The one that hasn’t moved is the fourth clock, right?” Derek said, his hand reaching out to touch the immobile face. “If the top one is our friendly visitor, and the first three are us, then the fourth one must be Chloe.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. Also, it fits with what’s on the paper.
The last in has control
, which is true if
the last in
is represented by the top clock, which corresponds to the ghost and…”

“I’d say he’s in control of all of us,” said Derek.

“Assuming it’s a ‘he’,” Beth said.

“Didn’t you say you thought the other ghosts were trapped in the clock?” I asked Beth.

“It was just a theory. I’m just guessing. Maybe the clock isn’t anything to do with what’s happening.”

I coughed. “Whatever it is, it’s got us where it wants us down here. So let’s try this and then get out of here.”

Beth reached out and tried to change the time on the fourth face. She pushed the hands as hard as she could but they would not move. I gave it a try, and then Derek, but impossibly the hands didn’t shift by a millisecond.

I tried preventing the hands of the other clocks from moving and they were just as stubborn. “I guess the only thing that’s moving these clocks is time.”

Beth returned to the back of the clock and shone her torch inside. “I don’t see a pendulum,” she said. “I could stick something in and try to jam the mechanism.”

We searched our pockets but none of us had anything suitable.

“Maybe if we could remove the clock…” Beth suggested.

“Chop it down?” I said.

Derek was hesitant. “We could lose Chloe forever.”

“We’re never going to find her while that thing is in control,” Beth said. “I say we try.”

I glanced nervously at the fifth clock, as if expecting the very mention of such a thing would bring the entity hurtling towards us.

“Okay,” said Derek. “Let’s do it.”

The three of us hurried up the stairs and went outside. The night air and the lack of ticking was a relief. I locked the outer door behind us so nothing could come through and then we crossed the path to the garage. The access door was locked too so I fumbled with the keys before settling on a longer one I’d not used for anything else. It was the right key.

The door came open with a tug. The hinges creaked so loudly the sound carried out over the grounds and the lake, echoing into the distance. It was agonizingly loud.

We’d not had a chance to look inside during the day. Now it occurred to me that there might be a vehicle in here. Unfortunately, the garage was empty of cars or motorbikes. I would have settled for a mobility scooter at this point. There was a bicycle in one corner but it looked pretty old and both tires were flat. It was better than nothing. A wheelbarrow stood upended against one wall.

There was a large amount of gardening equipment. No ride-on mower, unfortunately, though that would make a useless getaway vehicle anyway. 

Derek went straight to the equipment. I saw him pick up a large axe and examine it with his torch. Then he spotted an item that made him drop the axe and hurry over to it. It was a chainsaw.

“This should work,” he said, hefting it. It was big and powerful-looking, but also old. I’d noticed a chainsaw on the back of Arthur’s truck as he left the grounds, so likely this one had sat unused for a while.

Derek checked there was gas in the tank and then tried it. He yanked on the chain several times but produced only a cloud of debris and the smell of burnt oil.

He didn’t give up though. On about his fifteenth try, amazingly, the saw roared into life. The noise was staggering, like a bunch of cats thrown into an industrial blender. The air filled with the acrid smell of ozone and more burning oil.

Derek turned it off and the blade sputtered to a stop. The garage hung heavy with dust, soot and sudden silence.

“Let’s get back to that clock,” Derek said.

I was extremely nervous about entering the house with potentially deadly weapons. There likely wasn’t much we could do to the entity, and if it could throw a heavy bookcase out of a window then there was plenty it could do to us. I hefted the axe anyway and dutifully followed. Disconnecting the clock from the house really did seem like our best option. I just hoped it wouldn’t result in poor Chloe being even further removed from us in the process. I shuddered again when I thought about her. Assuming she was conscious, she must be going out of her mind with terror. The only thing keeping me sane was that I had Beth and Derek here with me. I still didn’t know why Derek was so pissed at me, but at least I felt more secure as part of a group.

We crossed the path and paused at the door to the house as I took out my keys. With the axe in one hand it was hard to select the right key with my free hand, so Beth took the keys from me and quickly found the right one. She opened the door.

That cold dread gripped me again as we walked back into the house. Derek went first, the chainsaw empowering him somehow, like he was now the one in control. Good luck to him. His attitude wasn’t rubbing off on me. Beth too seemed more determined, now that we had a mission and a possible end to this nightmare in sight.

I was more skeptical. I’d come face to face with this thing twice now and I knew what we were doing was going to bring it back for a third go around. I didn’t want to see it again. Already I knew that for the rest of my life, should I survive the night, I would see that thing every single time I closed my eyes. I would never get a good night’s sleep again. Right now though, that was the least of my worries. If the ghost wanted us dead it probably would have finished us off hours ago, but who the hell knew what it wanted?

We descended the steps once more, torches sweeping the wine cellar for any possible appearance from the entity. I illuminated the clock and noted that the time shown by the top clock face had not changed much since we were last down here. The ticking was as bad as always and it set my teeth on edge. For the moment at least, we had not attracted the entity’s attention.

I had a feeling this was about to change.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

Derek answered by firing up the chainsaw. If the machine was deafening in the garage, down here it was ear-bleedingly loud. I clutched my hands to my head as the roar of the power tool reverberated in the confined space. Beth staggered back, hands also clamped to her ears. Derek was laughing. I couldn’t hear him, but my torch lit up his face enough to know he was almost maniacal. Beth managed to keep her torch on the clock long enough for Derek to aim the roaring blade.

As he connected with the clock though, something in the chainsaw went
CLUNK
and it whirred to a halt.

“Shit,” said Derek. He tried to start it again but it was having none of that. “Shit shit shit!”

“Is something jamming it?” I said, struggling to hear anything over the roaring in my ears. .

“No I don’t think so.” Derek’s voice strained with frustration. “Fucking thing is just old. As soon as it hit resistance…” He tossed the power tool to the floor where it clattered loudly.

“Try the axe,” Beth said.

Before I could protest, Derek grabbed the long-handled weapon from me. He directed Beth to shine her light at the clock again, then planted his feet and made ready to swing.

“Hello?”

It was very distant, but we all heard it.

“Hello, is anyone here?”

Someone else was in the house. It was a man’s voice, but so soft and muffled I could only just make out what it was saying over the incessant sound of the clock and the ringing in my ears. We strained to hear for a moment longer.

“Who is that?” Beth asked.

Derek dropped the axe and pulled out his torch. “Come on,” he said, switching it on.

He and Beth headed to the stairs. I lingered for just a moment, wondering. I shone my light at the clock face. To my horror, the fifth clock face was showing the same time as the first three. I knew what that meant.

“Guys, wait!”

I ran after them, taking the steps two at a time. Already they were hurrying through the corridor.

“Stay together,” I pleaded with them. “Wait up, please.”

But Derek was too busy calling out, Beth right behind him.

“We’re here,” Derek yelled. “We’re coming.”

“Guys, there’s nobody there. It’s a trick. Guys?”

I was at least three seconds behind them. I had to catch up before they crossed the ballroom. Why were they ignoring me? Did they think I was calling out to the new arrival too?

“Derek? Beth? Wait up.”

Beth turned back to me, not slowing her pace. Both had reached the door to the conservatory. They were about to step over the threshold.

“Hurry up, Jim,” she called, and then turned to face forward again, never once slowing.

I burst into the conservatory and halted, my torch flicking this way and that.

The room was empty.

Sure there were plants everywhere, and the air was thick with humidity, but there was no sign of Beth and Derek.

I had known it, deep in my heart. I dreaded this. I told them we needed to stay together at all times but here I was, alone anyway. I knew that nobody had come to rescue us, and I cursed Derek and Beth for falling for such an obvious trick. But then they’d not heard the entity mimic someone else before. I couldn’t be certain that’s what had happened, but it seemed likely. Clearly it had been a trick when I’d heard Derek screaming in the kitchen and I lost the girls upstairs, and now we’d fallen for it again.

And here I was, in the conservatory, alone. The entity had pulled his time switcheroo on us when for just a second we were in different rooms. And now Beth and Derek were as lost to me as Chloe. I had no idea what time it was, or even if it was the same night. I didn’t know if the entity was in here with me or terrorizing Beth and Derek somewhere—or sometime—else.

I started crying. I hadn’t cried in a long time but at that moment I couldn’t help it. I sank to my knees and sobbed.

I’d lost Beth. I was on my own.

CHAPTER 9

There was only
one thing to do.

I wiped my face on my sleeve and stood up. I wasn’t beaten yet. I charged back to the ballroom, crossing the room as fast as I could. I didn’t look back. I didn’t look to the sides. I kept my torch beam focused on the door to the back corridor and I kept running. I passed through the doorway, ran to the stairs and plunged down into the wine cellar again.

And stopped at the bottom.

I searched furiously with my torch, shining it into every corner. The broken chainsaw was gone. The axe was gone. A dust sheet covered the clock, which was still ticking like an explosive device, ready to go off. I pulled the sheet away and shone my light on the plinth. There was no sign of any damage inflicted by the chainsaw. I moved to the back of the clock, forcing it open and reaching inside. Sure enough, my fingers connected with the piece of paper. I pulled it out and unfolded it, and saw the exact same message as before.

Again it was like we’d never been there. The entity must have sent me back in time, to a point before we found the wine cellar.

I really was alone.

Quickly I checked the clock faces. The first three clocks still all read the same time, which I found surprising. Maybe they didn’t represent the three of us after all. The top clock was showing a different time from the others. That meant the entity wasn’t around right now, but I knew all too well how quickly that could change.

I had to get out.

I turned and ran back up the stairs. Once in the corridor I turned and practically fell upon the outer door.

Locked.

We hadn’t locked it when we arrived here. We left it unlocked in case we needed to make a quick getaway. How come it was locked now?

Of course, I was in an earlier time
before
we
unlocked it.

I reached for my keys, but they weren’t there.

I’d given them to Beth.

I turned very slowly, my torch shining down the corridor and my breath coming in ragged gasps.

My grip on sanity lost a couple of fingers at that point. I had intended to return to the lodge. There I would wait the night out until the sun came up, and only then return to the house or try to get help. But with this door locked, my escape route was gone. I’d lay odds that all the other doors were locked too.

I could still try the front door. Maybe I could unlock it from the inside without the key. I struggled to remember the configuration of the lock from the inside of the door, but I hadn’t paid enough attention earlier and now I couldn’t recall if I needed a key or not.

I hurried back into the ballroom at a brisk walk. It was as fast as I dared go. If I ran I might trip, and the idea of twisting my ankle all alone in this place made me sick to my stomach. I could not resist shining my torch around the room and wished I could stop. The shadows lurched as my torch beam moved, and with every single movement I thought something was coming at me.

I couldn’t take much more of this. My nerves were already in tatters and now I had to find a way out of here on my own? It was too much for me to take. I felt dizzy and nauseous. As I reached out to grasp the door handle to enter the conservatory, my hand trembled so much it was hard to grip.

I fumbled with the door handle and nearly fell into the conservatory. Maybe Derek and Beth would jump out at me any moment, now that their little joke was over. We could all have a good laugh and go find Chloe and get the fuck out of here. But they didn’t. I dared not even call their names in case something else heard me. That was ridiculous, because whatever was in control here likely knew exactly where I was and how pant-wettingly terrified I felt.

I entered the kitchen. My torch beam swept over the counter to find it still completely clear of debris. I had to assume my stuff was still missing from the drawing room too, which sucked because I still didn’t have my mobile phone.

I did have a torch, a candle, matches and spare batteries, so at least I wasn’t about to find myself in the dark.

One with a light, one with a stick, and one with the shivers.

Make that just one, all alone with the shivers.

I tried singing to myself. The tune of
Ode to Joy
sounded ragged and breathless.

“Oh God please I am so sorry,

“That I don’t believe in you.”

I stepped gingerly into the hallway, aware that the staircase loomed to my right as I headed for the front door.

I didn’t look back. Instead I sang the next line so I wouldn’t think about the stairs.

“If you get me out of here,

“Then maybe I’ll believe you’re true…”

It seemed to take forever to reach the door, but as soon as I did I flipped the latch, grasped the handle and pulled.

It wouldn’t open. Perhaps I’d gone back in time to a point before we had unlocked it. But Beth and I had entered the house while it was still light, so why was it dark outside?

I ducked into the drawing room and shone my light around. Dust covers still on, no sign of our equipment. The room appeared just as it was when we first arrived. So what time was it now? Why wasn’t I running into myself and the others?

And then it hit me. I’d been assuming the entity was shifting us around in time
during the same night
. Why should that be the case? Right now could be last night, in relation to when we arrived. It could be last week! If I really had gone back to a time before we arrived, then it made sense that the kitchen was tidy and the drawing room was missing all our stuff. Hell, I could have travelled a year into the past for all I knew.

So that’s why we couldn’t find Chloe! She’d moved to a night when we weren’t even here yet. So she really was all on her own in the house. And now so was I. It was unlikely I was here on the same night as Chloe. There was little hope of finding her if I went looking. At least, that’s how I rationalized my decision to get out of the house by any means necessary. I didn’t care if I ended up in the 1980s, I just needed to get out.

I returned to the hall and stood at the foot of the staircase. Upstairs was so dark my torchlight barely illuminated anything.

I was shaking again, so badly I couldn’t keep the torch steady. As I ascended I quietly continued my ridiculous ditty.

“Why the hell would I go up here?

“I must be a lunatic…”

On the third step up, I paused. I was heading to the library to see if I could climb out of the window broken by the flying bookcase. But of course, that had happened on the night we arrived, not
tonight
. If I was in the past, the bookcase would still be standing opposite the shelves along the wall and the window would still be intact. No way out. I wanted to look anyway but the impenetrable darkness upstairs made me falter. No amount of silly lyrics to Beethoven tunes would muster the courage to go further. So I went back downstairs again. It was still dark as all hell down here, but at least it was a little more open concept and there were fewer places for things to be lying in wait for me.

I stepped back into the hall, wondering where in this wretched place was safest for me to hole up and wait for dawn, if it ever arrived. The answer was nowhere. I still had to get out. I could feel panic rising now, my breathing becoming ragged and urgent again. The hopelessness of my situation tore chunks from my resolve.

“I need to get out of here,

“Before I spray the walls with sick…”

I hurried to the living room and closed the door behind me. I checked that the door to the dining room was also closed and that there was nothing in the room with me. Then I moved to the nearest window and threw open the shutters. Of course, I couldn’t see a thing outside, but it wasn’t the view I was interested in. I examined the window frame in the torchlight, hoping it was made of wood, preferably rotten. The windows comprised of three tall panes anchored in stone. The glass itself looked tough to break. No way out here.

Each part of the house had different architecture. Surely the window frames would be different in other rooms.

Steeling myself, I opened the door to the dining room and entered cautiously. Again I checked the doors and then moved to the windows. The frames here were wooden but unfortunately in good condition. However, the individual panes in the huge windows were much larger and the glass was less thick. I tried to size one of them up, wondering if my body could fit through. I decided it was worth a try so I stepped down from the recessed window sill and chose the biggest, heaviest chair I could find. It was the only dining chair that had arms, which added considerable weight to the solid oak piece. I placed the torch on the table, pointing at the window. Then I picked up the heavy chair. I got a good swing going, once, twice, three times, all without connecting with the glass. On the fourth swing, I’d built up some velocity and managed to crash the chair into the window with some force.

The sound was like a gunshot and made my ears ring again. The glass did not shatter, but the chair might not stand up to a second blow. Still, there were plenty of chairs and I had to keep trying.

So I swung the chair again. This time the glass gave way and blew outwards, followed by bits of exploded furniture. I was left holding a severed chair leg in each hand. I used them to clear out the remaining shards of glass still stuck in the frame. It wouldn’t be smart to slice myself open and bleed out before I reached the lodge. I tossed the chair legs outside.

I was halfway out the window when I heard the voice.

It was unmistakably Derek. He sounded desperate, perhaps even in pain. I paused, one leg out of the window and one leg still in. For a moment I considered running anyway. Most likely I was hearing the ghost play yet another trick. If it had just been Derek I was abandoning, I probably would have kept on going and not looked back. The miserable bastard seemed to have nothing but contempt for me, as if I was somehow responsible for his sucky existence and the crappy choices he made.

But the problem was, as far as I knew, Beth was still with Derek.

And I couldn’t leave her.

“Please! Oh God help me,” cried Derek’s voice again. It was definitely coming from upstairs.

This was a trick. I
knew
it was a trick. But if there was the slightest possibility Beth was genuinely upstairs and in trouble, then I couldn’t leave her, could I? Surely if the entity was trying to trick me, I’d be hearing Beth’s voice call to me. No?

In that moment, I am ashamed to say, I very nearly left the house. My scrambled brain tried to justify my cowardice by telling me if I couldn’t hear Beth, I had no reason to believe she was still with Derek. I decided I could live with myself if I left him behind, but not if I failed to check in case Beth was with him.

Reluctantly I climbed back into the room. Thumps and bangs came from the ceiling now. As I entered the living room, I noticed the chandelier swayed dramatically. I had no desire to know what was going on upstairs. I only wanted to run and keep running. The instinct for self-preservation was so strong it was almost overwhelming.

Yet I found myself once again at the foot of the stairs, peering upwards, using my torch beam to try to see into the gloom.

There was a bang so loud, so damn loud, I jumped and started whimpering. I shrank down against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, almost sobbing with terror.

But it was about to get so much worse.

Something small, something solid, was rolling down the stairs towards me. It bounced on each step.

Bounce bounce bounce.

It rolled past me and came to rest against the far wall opposite the staircase.

It was a torch. It was switched off. I couldn’t tell if it was Derek’s or Beth’s.

I had to hand it to the entity, this was a nice touch. Compelling.

I stood up, mustering courage I didn’t possess and forcing down the urge to throw up. Somehow the inclusion of a solid object to entice me into going upstairs felt like an insult, like I was being toyed with. I was angry about it, and the anger bolstered my resolve. I wanted to yell at something, so I did.

“Very convincing,” I said, directing my anger up the stairs. “I like the torch. Bit over the top though.”

I wasn’t trying to antagonize it, or make it reveal itself. I had absolutely no desire to see the fucker ever again. The outburst helped suppress the urgent desire to run away. Also I wanted to know if Derek was really up there or not.

“Jim? Is that you?
Please. Help me
.”

I went over and picked up the torch. I wasn’t going to let it disappear on me as soon as I left the hall.

“Is Beth with you?” I called up.

“What? Jesus Christ, Jim! What difference does it make? Fucking help me!”

I didn’t move a step.

“Is Beth with you?”

“Yes! Oh Christ, yes, she’s here. It’s got her. Help me!”

I ascended the stairs in about five seconds.

At the top, my torch showed me the corridor in both directions, but didn’t stretch far enough to reveal the far end.