House of Fear by Jonathan Oliver

Author:Jonathan Oliver
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Anthologies, Horror
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2011-09-27T07:00:00+00:00

THE ROOM UPSTAIRS

Sarah Pinborough

Sarah Pinborough’s horror fiction often grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go until you’re battered, bruised and utterly terrified (go and read A Matter of Blood to see what I mean) but for the story that follows Pinborough instead instils a sense of quiet unease that leads to something that is altogether rather moving. ‘The Room Upstairs’ is a beautifully haunting tale and one that is bound to follow you into your dreams.

“There’s a basin and jug in your room, but you’ll find the main facilities at the end of the corridor. Use them as you like, of course, but please adhere to the line marked on the bath in order that we don’t run out of hot water. I currently have one other guest, Mr Marshall-Jones, and you’ll share the bathroom with him. I’m sure you can work out the logistics of timings between you. I hope that’s acceptable.”

She walked up the stairs with a precision in her movements, as if the approach to each step had been carefully thought out. Jack had an eye for these things. He was sure that if he studied the carpet closely enough he’d see where it was worn from each of those sensibly-clad feet landing in the same place on each trip she took to the second floor. That would, however, take more light than was currently available from the dim bulbs in the wall sconces, that simply cast shadows around them and would leave Jack with the start of a headache were he to look too hard at any given detail of his new surroundings. She paused ahead of him, a prompt to answer.

“That’s perfectly fine, Mrs Argyle. No problem there.” He smiled, and she moved on briskly, the lining of her skirt rustling against her tights. “I only take a bath every other day. I’ll have a good scrub in the basin on the alternates. We kept clean enough in the army that way. No baths then!”

“Where did you serve?” A slight hitch in her pace and then she rounded the corner and continued her march along the straight of the corridor; a sharpness in the tone. Jack followed her, keeping his small suitcase close so that its hard edges didn’t scuff the wallpaper as he turned.

“Egypt. Me and Monty. He got all the credit, though.” When she once again didn’t return his normally quite winning smile, his eyes dropped to the ring on her finger. Her eyes caught his as they fell.

“My husband was in the RAF. He died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s not something I like to talk about.”

“I understand that,” Jack said. He meant it, too. One thing he was quite happy not to talk about was the war. He was good on detail, but learning something wasn’t quite the same as actually having been there, and there had always been plenty of people who were ready to catch him out. He kept his war stories to a minimum. Thankfully, the immediate aftermath

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