111 West End

Chapter Nineteen: The Secret

The Doctor

Arthur pressed his back against the wall and watched as Georgie scrubbed the mud from the stair carpet. She'd bandaged her feet from her toes to her ankles. That was unfortunate. He hadn't intended to hurt her.

Arthur walked into the bedroom from the hall and stared out of the window. A good three inches of snow had fallen overnight, covering the lawn and the hole Georgie had dug. He would have to wait for her to remember what he'd shown her.

"It has snowed, children," he said as two flickers of light followed him into the room.

"Can we go outside?" Emma asked, her permanently youthful face full of wonder.

Arthur smiled at her. Emma Shipley was the first child he had cared for inside 111 West End. "Not this time."

Joseph Harker stood to his left. Forever frozen at fifteen, he was his last. "This is all because of Ben, isn't it?"

Arthur frowned. "What is?"

"That she is hurt?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Mr Goldman is a dangerous man. He must leave here."

"I like Georgie. Can she stay?" Emma asked, threading her fingers through Arthur's and squeezing his hand.

"No, Emma. She does not belong here."

"But she has seen us and she was not frightened." Joseph pressed his forehead against the window and tapped the glass with his fingernail. Tap... Tap... Tap...

"I know, but it is not her time."

The doorbell rang once.

"Hide," Arthur whispered to the children. Two flickers of light shot into the ceiling.

The doorbell rang again.

Arthur left the bedroom, he continued along the landing, down the stairs, past the parlour, and along the narrow hall to the darkest part of the house, beside the grandfather clock.

*

The Agent

"Mr Goldman, I wasn't expecting you," Georgie said as she opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but Henry's with me to set up some traps and lay some poison. Hopefully, we'll catch the mice before they cause any lasting damage."

Henry had worked for Ben for over sixteen years. There wasn't a pest problem he couldn't eradicate unless the problem was at 111 West End. This house flummoxed the man. Despite trying traps and various baits, the mice problem persisted. Today he'd brought a more potent poison as a last resort.

"Oh, yes, of course. Come in."

Henry followed Ben into the hall.

"Where did you say you hear the mice?" Henry asked. 

"In the bathroom." Georgie pointed to the ceiling.

"Mind if I look?" Henry shivered and added, "Although it's colder in here than outside. If there are mice in your bathroom, they'll soon leave." He chuckled and rubbed his arms.

"Go ahead. Do you need me to show you where the bathroom is?"

"Nah, I've been here before."

Ben watched Henry climb the stairs and asked, "What happened to your feet, Mrs Reynolds?"

Georgie seemed confused by Ben's question. "Erm... I'm not sure." She shrugged. "Would you prefer to wait for Henry in the kitchen? It's warmer."

Ben nodded and followed Georgie through the lounge, past the dining room table, and into the kitchen. He leant against the aga while she filled the kettle.

"They look sore." Ben pointed to her feet.

She switched on the kettle and faced him. Dark shadows circled her eyes as if she hadn't slept for a week. "I sleepwalked last night."

"Oh?"

"I woke up with cuts on the soles of my feet and my fingers torn up." She held out her hands. Grazes covered her fingertips, and she had blisters on her palms. "And the door was open."

Ben's gaze shifted from her to the French doors. "This door?"

"Yes." She nodded. "How strange is that? It's never happened before."

Ben walked to the door. "Can I look outside?"

Georgie took three mugs from the cupboard and dropped a tea bag in each. "If you like." She poured the boiling water into the mugs.

Ben stepped outside into the snow. He couldn't see any footprints, which meant she sleepwalked before the snow fell. The pond was frozen around the edges, but the fountain still flowed. He wandered out to the pond, his feet sinking into the snow. Beneath him, five feet down was the last resting place of Natalie Wilson. Undisturbed for fifteen years.

"Have you missed me?" he whispered.

He stepped to his right, his ankle twisting as he sank further into the snow. Ben's body stiffened. He pushed harder with his foot; it sank lower. Oh shit! He suddenly felt dizzy. His heart thumped and his stomach dipped. He stepped out of the hole, sweeping the snow away with his foot, and bending down, he picked up the shovel. The same shovel he used to bury Natalie. This time he knew what to do. Ben sighed as he leant the shovel against the orangery, brushed the snow from his coat, and returned to the house.

Georgie waited for him with a mug of tea and a pleasant smile.

"Were you tempted to build a snowman?" she asked, blissfully ignorant of the horror hidden beneath the frozen ground.

Ben forced a smile in return as he said, "No, not today. I hope the snow won't delay Mr Reynolds' flight home."

"He's not due back until Friday. It'll be gone by then."

Ben sipped his tea. "Yes, I'm sure."

  Henry strolled into the kitchen. "Well, it beats me! Not a dropping in sight. Damn mice are growing smarter or I'm getting dumber."

"No luck then?" Georgie asked, passing him his mug of tea.

"Nope." Henry clutched the mug to warm his hands. "Thanks for the tea."