Rosie by Jonathan Dunne

Author:Jonathan Dunne [Dunne, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-31T05:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

Jackdaw

Victor Ryan turned back up on his doorstep almost an hour after he’d made his fake run to the bathroom. ‘You will not believe this!’

‘Try me,’ answered Rosie from the kitchen.

‘There were a lot more of them standing along the other side of the river. I followed them across the side of the hill. Rosie, they marched up Buck’s Hill and didn’t say one word to each other. They were all wearing those creepy fucking masks, and they went into the house on the hill. ’

‘Which house, Vic?’ Rosie already knew in her heart and soul where they went, but she needed to hear it — not that she wanted to hear it. She’d dreamt about it last night. It was one of those dreams that fizzle out into the ether, but come fizzling back the following day, triggered by some event. But it wasn’t a dream; it was a nightmare of unfathomable darkness. And she cringed just to remember it.

‘Wishing Well House.’

Rosie’s insides surged as somebody nudged her wheelchair off a cliff, and she was falling head first…down the well under the stairs.

‘But do you know what the strangest of all was?’

Rosie gazed through her husband. ‘Hmm?’

‘That woman, Elsie — Cat Lady, remember? She was the one who let them in. That’s Alice’s mother. She was telling the truth.’

All the pieces were falling into place in this dark game. ‘She lived in the house before, Victor. Alice told us that. Why is she back? It’s just like before, Vic. Why are they back is what I should be asking.’

‘I saw another three or four of them at that top window.’

Rosie asked, ‘The chapel?’ Heart thumping in her chest.

‘We need to speak to the police, Rosie. Did they do anything? Real professional. I just knew we were wasting our time when Big Tom got out of the car. He—’ Victor stopped short when he saw tears in his wife’s eyes. ‘What is it?’

‘Do not speak to the police, Victor. She’s one of them.’

Victor frowned. ‘Who?’

‘The policewoman.’

‘What? I don’t think she’s very intelligent.’

‘She said stuff to me.’

‘“Stuff”?’

‘Weird things, Vic. I don’t want to think about it anymore.’ She checked the clock on the wall. ‘The kids need to be collected from school.’

‘I’ll go.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

Victor snapped back, ‘I can handle collecting the children from school, Rosie. I’ll be at the gate to take their hands and lead them into the van.’

‘It’s not that, Victor. I don’t want you to leave me alone.’

His wife’s words stunned him. Victor wasn’t used to seeing Rosie in a vulnerable position, post or pre-accident. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘And the other reason is because I used to collect them before the accident.’

Victor melted inside.

As they drove along the new line road, Victor Ryan glimpsed the house on Buck’s Hill up to their right, backed by a gloomy, tempestuous sky.

Rosie was strapped into the back, sitting in her trusty wheelchair, Winter. She needed to speak to her daughter, pick her brain, as the saying goes. Lots of things were

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