Add Cyanide to Taste by Karmen Spiljak

Author:Karmen Spiljak [Špiljak, Karmen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Karmen Špiljak

The doll gave Fiona the creeps. Mandy had hauled it from who knows where, insisting it was a present from her friend Betty. How had she even got into the cellar? Maybe she’d dug up the doll in the yard. It was certainly filthy enough and had a rotten, dank stink.

After she’d scrubbed it with soap, Fiona disinfected the fractured parts on the doll’s fingers and legs. Its black hair was burnt at the edges and parts had been cut off. The doll’s hands and legs squeaked when moved. The eyes were the worst, though. They were green and creepy and they closed with a delay, as if the doll was watching her.

Fiona turned it over and left it to soak in the water but seeing the doll with its face down upset Mandy. She told Fiona the doll couldn’t breathe and that Betty would be upset if she found out. Bloody Betty. These days, Mandy used her imaginary friend as an excuse for anything. Especially if she wanted another piece of cake or a cookie.

‘Betty likes cookies,’ Mandy said.

Fiona didn’t argue. She barely had the energy to get out of bed at the moment. If an extra cookie or a piece of chocolate bought her peace, so be it. Except for her friendship with Betty, Mandy was a reasonable child. Too reasonable. She’d got that from Fiona, or at least Fiona hoped so.

Fiona’s shoulders tensed as she descended into the basement. The last thing to do was to clear away the rubbish left by the previous owner. An old lady, the estate agent had said, who didn’t have anyone else left. After having the plumbing and the floorboards fixed, Fiona wanted to save some money. She’d clear the basement herself. How hard could it be to ditch those boxes?

The deep, musty smell made her queasy. Fiona turned on a light, a single bulb hanging from a piece of cord. She stepped over the rusty floor drain and tried to overlook the thick layers of dust.

Holding her breath, Fiona counted the boxes. There were eighteen, plus a few old cans of paint, brushes and a ladder. Her throat knotted. The bolted windows were too high to reach. She couldn’t open them without using the ladder, which didn’t seem all that safe.

Fiona had no intention of touching things without rubber gloves on. She’d make an estimate of stuff to get rid of, then fetch a bucket and bleach and a gazillion rubbish bags. She’d have asked Meg to help her, but she dared not bring her friend into this suffocating place.

A ray of sunlight cut through the darkness, making the specks of dust rise and dance. A peculiar sensation came over Fiona that someone was watching her. She shook her head. This was silly. The only living thing, apart from her, was the mildew. Even the spiders were all pale and shrivelled, hanging from their webs.

She pushed a box with her foot. Something moved and Fiona’s heart kicked. She rushed towards the stairs, then stopped midway.

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