just wish I was more certain that she
was
disturbing the living. As distinct from being used
by
the living.’
Silence. She’d walked around the three short roads on the estate, which formed an island, like a clearing in thin woodland, getting a sense of how it was before Harry Clifton met Johnny Morgan. The cold air and the night had focused her.
‘Just saying life’s worsened here since Susan Lulham’s suicide, and now Jonno’s death… that’s primitive superstition - isn’t it? Do well-off, sophisticated, secular people
do
primitive superstition?’
Mr Unsworth’s eyebrows were lifting; she was hearing his voice from this afternoon.
Have to say you do come across them. Unhappy houses. Houses that seem to attract ill-fortune. Sickness, marital discord, violent death
…
But it
’
s all nonsense, isn
’
t it? We put things together in our minds and make all kinds of horrible patterns. But that
’
s all it is
…
it
’
s in our minds
.
Evidently wanting her to say otherwise.
Merrily met Anita’s strangely-panicked stare.
Anita Wells looked past Merrily, through the window.
‘Jonathan hated the house. He bought it almost out of spite, thinking the least it could do for him was break up his disastrous marriage. And he… he thought he could use it. Make it do things. He was a physicist, he knew how things worked and if he didn’t know, he said he could go onto the Net and make sense of screeds of impenetrable technical jargon. And make… make things happen.’
‘Like what?’
‘He was good with electrics. Rewired part of the house and the garage, not long after they moved in. And this is sounding insane already.’
‘It’s also sounding like something for the police rather than me, Anita. Or for Zoe’s lawyer. You said she was making that up, about the phenomena, but if Jonathan was helping things along, playing with her mind, then that gives the defence—’
‘All right, let me explain this. I go through periods of insomnia. Come down in the early hours, listen to the radio, do some ironing. Twice I saw lights coming on next door. When Jonathan was away.’
‘Zoe going to the bathroom?’
‘It also happened while they were away in Italy. And the lights weren’t… normal. It was a dull… As if there was only half power. A dull… fractured kind of light. It made me…’ Anita shuddered. ‘I didn’t like it.’
‘And you think something Jonathan did made that happen?’
‘That’s what I tried to tell myself at first, standing by the window with a glass of water in my hand. It was quite slow and bleary, one window to the next,as if the light was… travelling… a travelling light exploring the house. I grabbed the mobile in case there was a burglar in there with a flashlight, though I didn’t really think… and then the glow was in several windows, quite intense for a very brief moment, like an X-ray. Light behind the bones of the house.’
An unwanted quiver in Merrily’s spine, between her shoulders. Zoe had talked about lights going on and off.
‘When they came back from Italy,’ Anita said, ‘I phoned Jonathan at work. He laughed. He said he hadn’t done anything to the electrics, it had just been a stupid idea.’
‘But you told him what you’d seen.’
‘He said I’d probably dreamt it.’
‘Did you ever consider he might have been lying to cover up having done something potentially dangerous?’
‘I don’t think so. The last thing he’d want to do would be to accidentally burn the place down and have to live in a caravan with his… beloved.’
‘Anybody else see any of these lights?’
Mr Unsworth coughed.
‘Twice. I think. After over half a century as an estate agent I’ve learned quite a lot about wiring, as you can imagine. I didn’t like it either. It was… anyway, I’m sure other people have seen things, too, which they won’t talk about.’
‘Might lose professional credibility.’
‘And reduce the value of their homes.’
Jesus
was
disturbing the living. As distinct from being used
by
the living.’
Silence. She’d walked around the three short roads on the estate, which formed an island, like a clearing in thin woodland, getting a sense of how it was before Harry Clifton met Johnny Morgan. The cold air and the night had focused her.
‘Just saying life’s worsened here since Susan Lulham’s suicide, and now Jonno’s death… that’s primitive superstition - isn’t it? Do well-off, sophisticated, secular people
do
primitive superstition?’
Mr Unsworth’s eyebrows were lifting; she was hearing his voice from this afternoon.
Have to say you do come across them. Unhappy houses. Houses that seem to attract ill-fortune. Sickness, marital discord, violent death
…
But it
’
s all nonsense, isn
’
t it? We put things together in our minds and make all kinds of horrible patterns. But that
’
s all it is
…
it
’
s in our minds
.
Evidently wanting her to say otherwise.
Merrily met Anita’s strangely-panicked stare.
Anita Wells looked past Merrily, through the window.
‘Jonathan hated the house. He bought it almost out of spite, thinking the least it could do for him was break up his disastrous marriage. And he… he thought he could use it. Make it do things. He was a physicist, he knew how things worked and if he didn’t know, he said he could go onto the Net and make sense of screeds of impenetrable technical jargon. And make… make things happen.’
‘Like what?’
‘He was good with electrics. Rewired part of the house and the garage, not long after they moved in. And this is sounding insane already.’
‘It’s also sounding like something for the police rather than me, Anita. Or for Zoe’s lawyer. You said she was making that up, about the phenomena, but if Jonathan was helping things along, playing with her mind, then that gives the defence—’
‘All right, let me explain this. I go through periods of insomnia. Come down in the early hours, listen to the radio, do some ironing. Twice I saw lights coming on next door. When Jonathan was away.’
‘Zoe going to the bathroom?’
‘It also happened while they were away in Italy. And the lights weren’t… normal. It was a dull… As if there was only half power. A dull… fractured kind of light. It made me…’ Anita shuddered. ‘I didn’t like it.’
‘And you think something Jonathan did made that happen?’
‘That’s what I tried to tell myself at first, standing by the window with a glass of water in my hand. It was quite slow and bleary, one window to the next,as if the light was… travelling… a travelling light exploring the house. I grabbed the mobile in case there was a burglar in there with a flashlight, though I didn’t really think… and then the glow was in several windows, quite intense for a very brief moment, like an X-ray. Light behind the bones of the house.’
An unwanted quiver in Merrily’s spine, between her shoulders. Zoe had talked about lights going on and off.
‘When they came back from Italy,’ Anita said, ‘I phoned Jonathan at work. He laughed. He said he hadn’t done anything to the electrics, it had just been a stupid idea.’
‘But you told him what you’d seen.’
‘He said I’d probably dreamt it.’
‘Did you ever consider he might have been lying to cover up having done something potentially dangerous?’
‘I don’t think so. The last thing he’d want to do would be to accidentally burn the place down and have to live in a caravan with his… beloved.’
‘Anybody else see any of these lights?’
Mr Unsworth coughed.
‘Twice. I think. After over half a century as an estate agent I’ve learned quite a lot about wiring, as you can imagine. I didn’t like it either. It was… anyway, I’m sure other people have seen things, too, which they won’t talk about.’
‘Might lose professional credibility.’
‘And reduce the value of their homes.’
Jesus
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