rang a bell. Almost. Somewhere in the crevices of her mind Mandy thought she had stayed in that room. Possibly. But at thirteen of course she should have remembered, and in detail. No wonder Evelyn had looked at her oddly. But apart from a vague feeling that she’d heard the name before, she could recall nothing else about it. And in the backwater of her mind an unsettling premonition told her it was better it stayed that way.
Nine
M andy washed her face and brushed her teeth in the guest bathroom, and then went downstairs. Most of the main lights in the house were off now, and she guessed that while she’d been in the bathroom Evelyn or John had locked up for an early night. A single wall-light lit the landing at the top of the stairs, and a lamp on an onyx table lit the front hall. A light glowed in the porch and through the leaded light window of the front door Mandy could see the silhouette of a tree stirring eerily in the wind outside. Towards the back of the house, the rear hall was lit by a nightlight, and the doors to the morning room and dining room were closed. The kitchen door had been left open but the light was off, Mrs Saunders presumably having gone home. Mandy had never liked the dark, particularly in a strange house; as a child she’d imagined all sorts of ghoulies and ghosties lurking in the shadows. She’d slept with a lamp on in her room at university, and even for the first three months of living in her flat, despite the room never being dark because of the street lamp right outside her window.
The door to the study was closed. Giving a small knock, she turned the handle and gently eased open the door. Here, too, the main light was off, and she was surprised to find a red glow illuminating most of the room. It came from a lava lamp on a table in one corner. Mandy went in and silently closed the door behind her. Grandpa was asleep on his back, mouth open and breathingheavily. John was dozing in one of the armchairs. She quietly crossed the room, sat in the other armchair and looked across the room at the lamp. She hadn’t noticed the lava lamp during the day, presumably because it hadn’t been switched on. Its red glow now gave the room a strange, almost surreal hue. As she looked, a red bubble of oil in the lamp slowly elongated upwards and a smaller bubble appeared to the right. She was surprised her aunt and uncle had such a modern and popular (to the point of tacky) artefact amidst their antiques and hand-crafted reproduction furniture. It seemed incongruous.
Reaching down beside the chair into her bag, Mandy quietly slid out her mobile and checked for messages. There were three texts: one from a friend replying to her earlier text, one from her father staying he’d arrived home safely and would ‘ c ’ her tomorrow, and the third from Adam: ‘ Luv n miss u 2. hugs n kisses. adam ’. Mandy smiled to herself as she returned the phone to her bag. She’d been forgiven. Resting her head back she gazed at the lava lamp. The larger of the red bubbles of oil was still contorting upwards, becoming thinner and longer, while the smaller one was growing rounder and fatter. The trouble with lava lamps, she thought, was that your eyes were drawn to them, and you had to watch, whether you wanted to or not. Like a television left on with the sound off, it was difficult to look away or concentrate on anything else.
It was only 9.50 p.m. but with the early start and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on all day it seemed much later and she felt pretty exhausted. Grandpa’s heavy and laboured breathing continued in the background; she saw his legs occasionally twitch beneath the sheets. She wondered if the medication was wearing off already. The nurse had come again at 8 p.m. and given him another injection, which also contained a sleeping draught and was supposed to see him through the night.
Tired, reasonably comfortable in the upholstered chair, and mesmerized by the swirling glow of the lamp
Nine
M andy washed her face and brushed her teeth in the guest bathroom, and then went downstairs. Most of the main lights in the house were off now, and she guessed that while she’d been in the bathroom Evelyn or John had locked up for an early night. A single wall-light lit the landing at the top of the stairs, and a lamp on an onyx table lit the front hall. A light glowed in the porch and through the leaded light window of the front door Mandy could see the silhouette of a tree stirring eerily in the wind outside. Towards the back of the house, the rear hall was lit by a nightlight, and the doors to the morning room and dining room were closed. The kitchen door had been left open but the light was off, Mrs Saunders presumably having gone home. Mandy had never liked the dark, particularly in a strange house; as a child she’d imagined all sorts of ghoulies and ghosties lurking in the shadows. She’d slept with a lamp on in her room at university, and even for the first three months of living in her flat, despite the room never being dark because of the street lamp right outside her window.
The door to the study was closed. Giving a small knock, she turned the handle and gently eased open the door. Here, too, the main light was off, and she was surprised to find a red glow illuminating most of the room. It came from a lava lamp on a table in one corner. Mandy went in and silently closed the door behind her. Grandpa was asleep on his back, mouth open and breathingheavily. John was dozing in one of the armchairs. She quietly crossed the room, sat in the other armchair and looked across the room at the lamp. She hadn’t noticed the lava lamp during the day, presumably because it hadn’t been switched on. Its red glow now gave the room a strange, almost surreal hue. As she looked, a red bubble of oil in the lamp slowly elongated upwards and a smaller bubble appeared to the right. She was surprised her aunt and uncle had such a modern and popular (to the point of tacky) artefact amidst their antiques and hand-crafted reproduction furniture. It seemed incongruous.
Reaching down beside the chair into her bag, Mandy quietly slid out her mobile and checked for messages. There were three texts: one from a friend replying to her earlier text, one from her father staying he’d arrived home safely and would ‘ c ’ her tomorrow, and the third from Adam: ‘ Luv n miss u 2. hugs n kisses. adam ’. Mandy smiled to herself as she returned the phone to her bag. She’d been forgiven. Resting her head back she gazed at the lava lamp. The larger of the red bubbles of oil was still contorting upwards, becoming thinner and longer, while the smaller one was growing rounder and fatter. The trouble with lava lamps, she thought, was that your eyes were drawn to them, and you had to watch, whether you wanted to or not. Like a television left on with the sound off, it was difficult to look away or concentrate on anything else.
It was only 9.50 p.m. but with the early start and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on all day it seemed much later and she felt pretty exhausted. Grandpa’s heavy and laboured breathing continued in the background; she saw his legs occasionally twitch beneath the sheets. She wondered if the medication was wearing off already. The nurse had come again at 8 p.m. and given him another injection, which also contained a sleeping draught and was supposed to see him through the night.
Tired, reasonably comfortable in the upholstered chair, and mesmerized by the swirling glow of the lamp
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