The Haunting of Rookward House by Coates Darcy

Author:Coates, Darcy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Owl Books
Published: 2017-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Tickles of foreboding crept across the back of Thomas’s neck. He used a gloved hand to brush them away. He’d felt them so often over the last six weeks that they were becoming a nearly subconscious sensation.

Of course she’s here. She’s always here.

He kept his focus on the garden he was working in. There was no point in searching the forest; he never saw her. She was as good as a phantom in that regard.

A sound like breaking porcelain came from the house. Thomas dropped a handful of dug-up carrots into his bucket and searched the windows.

Louise no longer watched him from the kitchen, and the prickling unease intensified. That was one of the myriad of rules they’d established since the night Thomas had heard Amy in his children’s room: doors had to stay locked at all times, and no one went outside without someone watching.

She probably went to check on Georgie.

Thomas pulled off his gloves and threw them into the bucket. The air was cool as day settled into evening, but already, sweat had built over his back. He hunted for signs of motion in any of the windows. A curtain shifted in Becca’s bedroom. Two birds launched off the roof, spiralling towards the forest in a blur of wings and shrieks.

The kitchen window remained empty. Thomas crossed to it. The house’s insides were dark. Did Louise turn the lights off?

His chest was tight enough to make breathing difficult. His fingernails itched, but he resisted the temptation to chew on the stubs. He pressed himself to the kitchen window.

The sink was still full of soapy water and dishes. Louise had started to wash up from dinner, but evidently, she hadn’t gotten far. She’d finished glazing a chocolate cake, though, and left it, ready to cut, on the chopping board beside the sink.

“Louise?” Thomas rested his fingertips on the windowsill and craned his neck to see through the open door at the back of the kitchen. “Lou, is everything all right?”

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the house. The suds in the sink were starting to burst, and amongst the cups and saucers was a broken plate.

His heart ached as he tried the kitchen door. It was locked, as it should have been. He jogged around the house to test the front. It was also sealed. Thomas rattled the handle then beat on the wood. He held still, ear pressed to the door, listening for any sign of footsteps moving through the building. He heard none. “Louise! Answer me!”

Thomas waited for only a beat before he leapt off the porch and kept moving. The setting sun cast a veil of oranges and bloody reds over the scene. He looked through the windows he passed, but they showed only his family home, undisturbed and empty.

“Louise!” His voice cracked. The prickles spread from his neck to his arms and his legs.

He stopped by the family room, where Louise lounged on the couch. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, and her hands were folded in her lap.

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