The Patchwork House (22 page)

As we made it to the top of the awkward stairs and had squeezed the body and ourselves back through the narrow trap door, I became aware that the temperature had dropped dramatically. I collapsed against a dressing room door and tried to recover from the exertion, aware that my breathing was creating steam. Chloe seemed pretty beat too, and I didn’t want to send her to check. So I did it myself. I crawled over to the ballroom door and opened it a crack. The entity was in the middle of the huge room, still a swirling mass of energy and confusion. It was moving slowly but there was no doubt as to where it was heading.

The clock.

“Oh Christ,” I hissed, closing the door. “It’s here already.”

“What is?”

“Derek’s… ghost.”

She fell silent at that, looking like she might burst into tears. I felt the same way. The crushing need to lie here and sob my guts out was overwhelming. But we didn’t have time. I knew that if I stayed any longer I might never be able to get up.

“Come on, we have to leave.”

Together we dragged the body to the door at the end. I found the right key and we emerged into the fresh air. Still there was no hint of dawn, but we had lamps now and that made a huge difference. We pulled the withered and surprisingly light body around the back of the house to the paved courtyard. Standing waiting for us was the wheelbarrow, with two shovels piled inside.

Thank you, Derek.

With a lot of difficulty we dumped the body in the wheelbarrow on top of the tools. Again I had to stop for a breather. Chloe started pushing but she didn’t know where we were going. I forced myself to my feet but stumbled and fell towards her, nearly impaling myself on a wheelbarrow handle. The chill night air kept me conscious as Chloe helped me up again. I took the lead, carrying both lamps, and Chloe pushed the body along behind me. While she’d not been beaten up, she was likely just as tired as I was. But she didn’t complain. We moved without a word, too tired to speak. We wore no coats but the cold was the only thing keeping me awake.

Together we bore right, to the side of the lake, towards the Victorian garden.

After a long time and a lot of painful walking, we arrived at the tiny graveyard. This was where they buried Percy, along with his parents and his grandfather, and many other ancestors most likely. This was blessed ground. A Catholic burial site. We took the shovels and we dug a hole. We were both far too exhausted to dig very fast. How I managed to keep hold of that shovel was beyond me, but Chloe moved with steely resolve so I pushed myself to keep up with her.

“So,” she said as she scooped another pile of dirt from the small hole we had created near to Percy’s grandfather’s grave. “We’re going to bury this corpse, right?”

“Yes,” I said. I had to fight for the breath to talk and dig at the same time, and my head felt lighter the more air I expelled from my lungs. But she’d been patient and now she deserved an explanation.

I leant on my shovel, grateful for the break. “The clock takes five spirits and traps them in the house,” I explained. “The fifth ghost gets control of everything: the house, the other spirits, time itself. Percy wanted to silence his grandfather’s ghost by becoming spirit number five. Father Jeremy here died to fill a slot. But Percy miscounted. The drummer boy didn’t die in the house, so he wasn’t trapped by the clock. That meant Percy became number four.”

“So Derek is number five?” she asked, plunging her shovel into the soft earth.

“Right. Derek was the next person to die in the house, so he’ll be taking the last place. When he takes control he can go anywhere in time, forward or backward, for as long as the clock is attached to the house I guess. I’m not really sure. Percy never mentioned Derek’s ghost in his diary, but then I guess Derek doesn’t give a shit about Percy and will leave him alone…"

“When did Beth…?” Chloe tailed off. She stopped digging and stared down at her feet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I replied. I started digging again. “Well, it’s not okay, but for now it’s not happened yet. Beth dies tomorrow night. I’m guessing if she’d died before Derek, we wouldn’t be standing in a cemetery burying a three month old corpse right now.”

“Is this deep enough now? Does it have to be six feet?”

“Shit no. I’m in no state to dig a proper grave. This will have to do.”

We’d only managed to go down about two feet, and the rough rectangle we’d dug wasn’t long enough for the priest’s body to lie stretched out. Instead we had to curl him in an awkward fetal position.

“So why are we burying this priest?”

I adjusted the body’s arm so that it didn’t stick up above ground level. “I’m hoping that if we help the priest find some proper eternal rest before the clock closes up, his spirit will be released and can leave the house. Percy will take the third slot and Derek the fourth, and he won’t be in control anymore.”

“What if it just leaves the third slot open?”

“Then we’re screwed. All of this is based on what I read in Percy’s diary, and a healthy dose of guesswork. This is the best idea I could come up with. Now, please, read the burial rites while I fill in the grave.”

“I’m not a priest,” Chloe pointed out, rather redundantly. “And nor are you. You think this will be…?”

“Legit? No idea. It’s better than being dumped in a cellar though. I hope it’s enough.”

So Chloe read from the burial rites while I filled in the shallow grave. By the time I was done I was utterly spent. I dropped to the ground and lay there, shivering now as the cold bit deep into me. Chloe regarded me like I was dying, but she kept on reading until she was done. Then she made the sign of the cross and sat down beside me.

“Is that it then?” she asked.

“It’s all we can do,” I said from my prone position.

“Are we going to wait here until dawn?”

“No. We have to go back to the house.”

“Back? Why?”

“For one thing, I don’t want to die of exposure. I also need to know that it worked. I need to know that Derek’s ghost is no longer in control.”

“But even if he can’t move us around in time or whatever the hell else he could do, his ghost is still in there and he’s still pissed. And if Beth doesn’t die… sorry… until tomorrow then that leaves the fifth clock still open…”

I hadn’t actually considered that. I hadn’t thought of anything beyond burying the priest’s body. I wanted so desperately to discuss the plan with Derek before he died, but if I’d done that then the entity would have known the plan too.

“Am I right?” Chloe pressed. She was doing pretty well, under the circumstances, but I was bone weary and she was starting to annoy me. I took a deep breath and managed not to yell at her.

“I’m making this up as I go along, Chloe. Honestly, I have no idea if we did the right thing or if we did it in time. The clock could have closed before we buried the priest and he might still be trapped in there. Derek might still be in control.

She could tell I was trying not to lose my temper. It wasn’t rational. After the trust she’d placed in me I had no right to be mad at her. But fatigue and pain brings out the worst in people. My tolerance was gone.

“So we have to go back in,” she said warily. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah we do. I have to get a look at the clock. I have to know I’ve got this right. If all I’ve done is open the third slot for Beth and Derek’s still in the fifth… Well I can’t leave her like that.”

“Okay then, let’s go.”

I wanted to sit a while longer, maybe for a few hours, but I also wanted this done. The cold was making my teeth chatter and self-preservation forced me to move. Chloe helped me to my feet.

We set off for the house. She supported me as I limped along and for half the walk we didn’t speak.

Then suddenly Chloe said, “Hang on, I just thought of something.”

We stopped. I collapsed on the grass, happy to take a break and delay our return just a little longer.

“What?”

“Something you said about the clock. You said it was open.”

“Yes. It opened when Derek died. When someone dies in the house, the clock opens and sucks in their spirit.”

“And when it’s open, that’s when we had the chance to release the priest.”

“Yes.”

“But it only opened when Derek died. Yet you’d already got the burial rites book.”

I didn’t really like where she was going with this. “So?”

“So that means you were already intending to bury the priest when the clock was open. That means you were waiting until Derek died. You were waiting for my husband to die.”

“Chloe, it was the only way. Derek was doomed anyway. I knew he had to die before Beth.”

“You bastard.”

“Chloe, please, it’s not like I wanted him dead.”

“You had no intention of trying to save him. He had to die for your plan to work.”

Chloe was right but it didn’t change anything. Not from my perspective. As soon as I worked out who the entity was, I knew Derek had to die. It seemed cold but I knew, if only on a subconscious level, that Derek wasn’t leaving the house alive. Although I’d not planned it out in any kind of detail, I intended to have Derek help me bury the body and then return to the house. Then I was just going to wait until he was killed. At that moment, the clock would open and the priest would be free. Derek died much earlier than I had expected, but that was Chloe’s fault for calling to him. Not that I was about to blame her for it.

“Chloe, I’m sorry.”

She left me there on the grass with my lamp. She took her own and stalked off towards the house. I tried to follow but my leg hurt too much. It wasn’t broken—I couldn’t have walked all that way and dug a grave with a broken leg, but it still hurt like a bitch.

I struggled after her. I didn’t want her going in the house alone. More for my own sense of security than hers if I’m honest.

“Chloe, please,” I called. “I was just going on instinct. I didn’t sit down and plan it out. I barely had time to think about it. Please, Chloe. Don’t go in there alone.”

She ignored me. I crawled after her as fast as I could but she was much closer to the house than I was.

I took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be pleasant and it wasn’t fair, but I had to stop her.

“Chloe, the picture on the stairs, of that girl. It wasn’t mine. It was Derek’s.”

She stopped. She turned.

“Derek carried her picture. Her name was Anna. I dated her for a while and then I dumped her. She went to Australia but Derek tried to stop her. He loved her. He never got over her.”

Chloe came back towards me then, much to my relief. She was close enough now that I didn’t have to shout.

“When the ghost said he didn’t love you he was telling the truth. Derek loved Anna. You were a rebound he accidentally got preg–”

Chloe slapped me round the face. There was more shock than pain, but I went down like she’d hit me with a sledgehammer.

“You manipulative little shit,” she hissed. “I’m not an idiot. I know he didn’t love me. But he was my husband, the father of my children and a good man. He treated me well and he worked damn hard for his family. When was the last time you worked hard for anything?” The steel in her tone was fading, replaced by sobs. Chloe deflated, collapsing to the ground beside me in heaving cries of anguish.

“I know he didn’t love me,” she said through the tears.

Despite the pain I was in, I reached out to try to comfort her.

She slapped my hand away. “Don’t you touch me,” she shrieked. “Don’t you dare! He
hated
you! Anna moved to the other side of the world to get away from you. She wouldn’t stay for him. He carried all that hatred and now look what’s happened. Look what he’s turned into. And it’s all your fault. All of it. If you weren’t such a selfish, fucking…”

I wanted to protest. I wanted to tell her that Derek was a grown man capable of making his own decisions and seizing his own opportunities. He was never my responsibility. Sure he went ghost hunting with me instead of studying and he failed his exams, but I never held a knife to his throat and forced him to. Sure he loved the girl I was dating, but he had plenty of time before I met her to make a move. I even asked his permission. All this over his jealousy of me? Ridiculous. Without Beth, I had nothing of any worth whatsoever. Derek threw away his family and his life to get revenge on me. And what about the violence, beneath the surface? He was going to beat Chloe. He nearly killed me with his bare hands. That was all him.

But I said nothing. Chloe needed someone to hate, to lash out at, to blame. The least I could do was be that person. Hell I could protest all I liked inside my own head but I deserved it. I’d been a dick. I should have asked Beth to marry me months ago but I was too lazy to get around to it. I liked my easy life. There was no reason to change anything from my perspective. I didn’t want to settle down and have a family of my own, at least, not until I realized what I’d lost.

But Chloe, giggly housewife Chloe, turned out to be the strongest of all of us because she had something in her life she could not afford to lose.

“He was a good man,” Chloe insisted, as if reading my thoughts. “He could have run when I got pregnant but he didn’t. I knew he didn’t want to stay but he
did
stay. Putting your family before your own happiness, that’s the measure of a good man.”