Read Online Shiverton Hall, the Creeper by Emerald Fennell - Free Book Online
Authors: Emerald Fennell
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PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE PAYMENT PLEASE
Richmond had trouble sleeping after that.
His publisher insisted that he see some of Richmond’s new book, and Richmond was forced to admit that he had nothing to show.
‘Right,’ said his publisher, ‘I’m sending you away. You’ve been living it up in London for far too long. You need to clear your head.’
Richmond’s publisher suggested a place called Shiverton Hall. He had been at school there and guaranteed that there wasn’t a place on earth further away from everything. He’d have a word with the headmaster, and see if Richmond couldn’t stay there while the place was empty for the summer holidays.
‘No luxury. No distractions. Two months should break the back of it, wouldn’t you say?’ the publisher said.
Richmond couldn’t argue. Perhaps he did need to be away from it all. Maybe Zezia would be better behaved when he had time to spend with her.
He took a train to Grimstone station, and the school groundsman picked him up in an ancient automobile.
‘The headmaster’s on holiday in Exmoor,’ the groundsman said as the car pulled up to the menacing bulk of Shiverton Hall. ‘He’ll be back in two weeks. If you need me I’m in the groundsman’s cottage, about a mile from here.’
Richmond got out of the car, holding Zezia and a small bag.
‘Where do I sleep?’ he asked.
The groundsman shrugged. ‘It’s a school. Take your pick of the dormitories.’
The car sputtered off, leaving Richmond, cursing his publisher, to enter the hall alone.
Richmond soon found a perfectly nice room for himself, painted blue and with only one bed in it, and he began to unpack. No sooner had he put his typewriter on the table than it started up again with its plea.
PAYMENT PLEASE
‘Right,’ Richmond said to himself, sitting down at the small desk, his knees barely fitting under it, ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ He began to type.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
The typewriter was still for a moment, then started up again.
PAYMENT PLEASE
Richmond typed back.
WHAT TYPE OF PAYMENT?
The typewriter answered: YOU.
The little bell on the typewriter sounded. Richmond stared at the paper. He typed slowly.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘ME’?
YOU , the typewriter answered. PAYMENT PLEASE.
It was almost dark outside, and Richmond was beginning to regret coming out to this strange place. Regret was not a strong enough word.
He went downstairs and made himself a cup of tea in the small kitchenette that must have been used by the older boys to make toast during term time. Richmond walked over to the library, and looked for something comforting to read. There was a brightly coloured book of nursery rhymes on one of the side tables: that would do to steady his nerves. He lit a small fire in the grate, and began to read.
He was halfway through ‘Oranges and Lemons’ when he heard, from the floor above, echoing down the stairs and across the corridor, the faint sound of tapping.
Richmond tore up the stairs. He no longer cared what Zezia could do for him; he hated the thing, he didn’t want it, he would throw it out of the window and that would be that.
He opened the door to his room and grabbed hold of the typewriter. He felt cold when he saw what it was
Richmond had trouble sleeping after that.
His publisher insisted that he see some of Richmond’s new book, and Richmond was forced to admit that he had nothing to show.
‘Right,’ said his publisher, ‘I’m sending you away. You’ve been living it up in London for far too long. You need to clear your head.’
Richmond’s publisher suggested a place called Shiverton Hall. He had been at school there and guaranteed that there wasn’t a place on earth further away from everything. He’d have a word with the headmaster, and see if Richmond couldn’t stay there while the place was empty for the summer holidays.
‘No luxury. No distractions. Two months should break the back of it, wouldn’t you say?’ the publisher said.
Richmond couldn’t argue. Perhaps he did need to be away from it all. Maybe Zezia would be better behaved when he had time to spend with her.
He took a train to Grimstone station, and the school groundsman picked him up in an ancient automobile.
‘The headmaster’s on holiday in Exmoor,’ the groundsman said as the car pulled up to the menacing bulk of Shiverton Hall. ‘He’ll be back in two weeks. If you need me I’m in the groundsman’s cottage, about a mile from here.’
Richmond got out of the car, holding Zezia and a small bag.
‘Where do I sleep?’ he asked.
The groundsman shrugged. ‘It’s a school. Take your pick of the dormitories.’
The car sputtered off, leaving Richmond, cursing his publisher, to enter the hall alone.
Richmond soon found a perfectly nice room for himself, painted blue and with only one bed in it, and he began to unpack. No sooner had he put his typewriter on the table than it started up again with its plea.
PAYMENT PLEASE
‘Right,’ Richmond said to himself, sitting down at the small desk, his knees barely fitting under it, ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ He began to type.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
The typewriter was still for a moment, then started up again.
PAYMENT PLEASE
Richmond typed back.
WHAT TYPE OF PAYMENT?
The typewriter answered: YOU.
The little bell on the typewriter sounded. Richmond stared at the paper. He typed slowly.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘ME’?
YOU , the typewriter answered. PAYMENT PLEASE.
It was almost dark outside, and Richmond was beginning to regret coming out to this strange place. Regret was not a strong enough word.
He went downstairs and made himself a cup of tea in the small kitchenette that must have been used by the older boys to make toast during term time. Richmond walked over to the library, and looked for something comforting to read. There was a brightly coloured book of nursery rhymes on one of the side tables: that would do to steady his nerves. He lit a small fire in the grate, and began to read.
He was halfway through ‘Oranges and Lemons’ when he heard, from the floor above, echoing down the stairs and across the corridor, the faint sound of tapping.
Richmond tore up the stairs. He no longer cared what Zezia could do for him; he hated the thing, he didn’t want it, he would throw it out of the window and that would be that.
He opened the door to his room and grabbed hold of the typewriter. He felt cold when he saw what it was
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