The Richmond Haunting (COMPLETED)

Chapter 28

How much horror can somebody take before the weight of it becomes so intolerable the person will snap? Fiona and Steven had never thought of asking that question three years ago, but now they were asking it.

That reason came because of the woman with the strict-looking face, Angela Marshall, who by looking at her — Steven guessed her age was somewhere in her late forties. But you couldn't tell that from her hair on top, deathly white. And her bombshell. She was from Manchester city council, a social worker.

'This is a joke, right?'

'I'm afraid not. I'm here on good authority.'

'What authority.' Fiona asked. The surrounding stage didn't look good. The security guard, the police officer.

'I think it would be best if we spoke more privately. There's a meeting room we can use.'

Why couldn't the dumb bitch do that before, instead of barging in like a female wrestler with her crew on hand?

'Probably because the power has gone to her head.' Fiona thought to herself. And for a second, her eyes scoured the social worker, noticing the calm sea on her face. She was like a machine. There was no expression on her face, only a sham-painted smile.

'Sure.'

Fiona and Steven had to consent. It didn't matter. The people waiting around, they had to play the game. But Steven did mention under his breath; all this drama could have been done more privately. He felt embarrassed and nervous. Something was definitely wrong, and for once, it had nothing to do with the old man.

Walking down the corridor, they went into a lift and the social worker, prone to all this, tapped the second-floor button.

'Won't be long now.'

Was that hope in her voice, the melody of cheerful songs. It better not be.

A yellow light sprung up on the number two button, and doors hissed open.

He and Fiona were taken to the meeting room. Inside, it was cosy enough; a circular table with armchairs around it.

'Before we begin, I just like to.'

'Do, they really have to be here.' Steven jumped in, pointing his finger at the police officer and the guard. 'We're not going to do anything. We just want to know what's happening with the girls.'

The social worker said okay, and the two men in the dark uniforms with the visor jackets left the room.

'Now, as I was saying. My name is Angela Marshall, and I'm from Manchester city council.'

'You're a social worker, aren't you?'

'That's correct, I am.'

With all this shit going on, Fiona could do with a stiff drink. Fuck that, the bottle. 'I don't get this. Why should we need a social worker?'

'I'm not here for you. I'm here for your children.'

'My what? 'Fiona exploded, shooting up. 'You think we're abusing our children.'

'Nobody is saying that, but the nurse who examined Harmony was concerned.'

'Why.' Fiona wanted to know. Had the nurse come across something during the examination? Of course, she had. Why else would somebody who worked for the children's department be here?

'If you wouldn't mind sitting down. I'm sure we can sort this out.'

'No, I don't want to sit down; I just want to see my children.'

'I'm afraid that won't be possible.' The social worker said, her eyes just for a moment, filling up with sympathy, but it went quickly away.

Fiona darted her eyes at Steven. 'Say something.'