Chapter Three
1
Tamicka had hardly touched her evening meal. Mrs. Hughes had gone to a lot of trouble to make the shepherds pie and it was lovely but Tamicka couldn't manage to rouse her appetite. Absent-mindedly, she played with her food, separating sweet corn, garden peas and pieces of diced carrot from the cheese and potato topped mince with her fork.
"Come now little one. Surely it can't be that bad."
Tamicka looked over at the old woman who was busy chewing the last mouthful from her own plate.
"There's little wonder you're only skin and bone," Mrs. Hughes continued, rising slowly to her feet. "I can see I'm going to have to feed you up young lady, you hardly eat enough to make a sparrow happy."
"Sorry," Tamicka replied timidly. "I guess I'm just not very hungry."
"Are you sure you can't manage just a tiny bit more?"
The little girl forced her lips into a tight smile. She didn't want to hurt Mrs. Hughes' feelings but she really couldn't manage another morsel. Without saying a word, Tamicka got to her feet and started to clear the table.
"After my job again are you?" The housekeeper asked.
"No, I'm just helping," Tamicka said as she collected Mrs. Hughes' plate.
"But you don't have to, that's what I'm here for."
"I like to help." Tamicka's smile became effortless when she looked into the old woman's kind eyes.
Tamicka washed while Mrs. Hughes dried. Neither said a word to the other, content in each other's company. They both stood at the sink, half watching the storm outside the window until they had finished the washing-up.
"Oh dear, I knew I should have left earlier," Mrs. Hughes finally said when she dried her hands on a tea towel. "Looks like this weather's in for the night."
"Well, why don't you stay here tonight?" Tamicka asked, hoping that the old woman would say yes.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly do that little one; Mr. Hughes will wonder what happened to his tea."
"But how will you get back."
"I was hoping that your dad would drop me home," the old woman smiled.
"Please stay the night." Tamicka didn't try to mask the fear in her voice. She reached out and grabbed Mrs. Hughes' freshly dried hand with her two wet ones. There was a long pause while the woman looked deep into Tamicka's eyes with a look that the girl hadn't seen in quite some time. It was an expression of genuine concern.
"Look, if you want me to stay I will." She gave Tamicka an affectionate stroke on the cheek. "I just have to make sure that it's all right with your father. Mr. Hughes will just have to fix his own tea tonight." With this, the old woman left the kitchen.
Tamicka felt better already.
2
Tamicka wanted to sleep, but she couldn't. The only thing she could do was lay there in the huge four-poster bed and stare blindly into the blackness. It was so dark in the room that she blinked her eyes just to check whether they were still open. At Munford House, so far away from town, there wasn't even the comforting, yellow glow of a street lamp to break up the blackness outside her window.
She reached under her pillow, pulled out her tiny flashlight and cast its beam over the face of her bedside clock.
9:45 p.m.
By this time in London it had still been light enough to see all that was going on across Clapham Common from her bedroom window, but this place was different. It was almost like being on another planet.
The storm outside had been raging for over two hours. The rain beat a heavy tattoo against the windowpanes but, much to the little girl's relief, at least the thunder and lightning had finally ended. Tamicka pressed the button on the flashlight and the room was thrown into darkness once more. She slid the torch back under her pillow; curled into a snug little ball - crushing Mr. Huggles to her chest – and squeezed her eyelids tight together just to make sure that they were closed. In some strange way, the drumming of the rain helped Tamicka to unwind taking her close to the edge of sleep and she loosened her grip on Mr. Huggles. The fear that she had felt earlier ebbed away and her breathing became deep and steady. Although Mrs. Hughes had taken one of the bedrooms at the other end of the hall Tamicka felt more at ease just knowing that the old woman was still in the house. The sound of the raging water became more distant as she slowly became engulfed in sleep.
There was a far-away sound, so gentle that Tamicka couldn't be sure what it was. She tried to put it out of her mind but the more she concentrated on sleep, the louder the sound became. It sounded like static, like something trying to tune into her wavelength until it was unmistakable. She wasn't alone anymore; somebody was in the room with her, and they were crying. She couldn't quite make out which part of the room the sobs were coming from. It was as if they surrounded her. Slowly she reached under her pillow for the flashlight again, trying her hardest not to make a sound.
"Don't go..." the shadow of a voice came from over by the window.
Tamicka took a moment to think. Was this all just a dream?
"Please don't go." The voice was clearer now, more insistent.
Tamicka's hand finally found the slim metal cylinder and clasped it tightly. She was covered in cold sweat, torn between scanning the room with the aid of the flashlight and just curling back into her protective ball.
"I can help you. I can keep you safe," the voice continued.
It was the voice of a young child. Wide-eyed curiosity quickly joined her fear and she sat bolt upright with her back against the headboard. She snapped the flashlight on and pointed the beam directly at the window. Just on the periphery of her vision, Tamicka thought that she could make something out in the darkened corner of the room. It looked like a pale green, shapeless mist. The fear became stronger as she cast her gaze directly at the apparition. There was a long silence while she waited for the child to speak again, but the voice remained silent.
"Who are you?" Tamicka could hardly hear her own voice.
"Don't go out there," the voice replied.
"What do you want?"
"If you go out I can't protect you," the voice pleaded.
"How did you get in here?"
The mist faded like a poorly projected picture until there was hardly anything left of it.
"Whatever you do, you must not trust her."
"What are you talking about?" Tamicka asked.
"Don't believe her lies."
Tamicka climbed out of bed and slowly shuffled over to the spot where remnants of the mist still lingered. As she neared it the light from her torch dimmed, the temperature dropped and the air was filled with a damp, earthy smell.
"Don't trust who?" Tamicka whispered. "How will I know if you don't tell me?"
"She will pretend to be your friend but she will only end up hurting you."
Tamicka was right at the corner now. The beam from the flashlight made little impression on her surroundings as she reached out towards the traces of mist. When her fingertips made contact with it, they went numb. The sensation quickly spread through her hand and all the way up her arm. She looked at the limb as if it wasn't her own. The veins appeared swollen and black against her pale skin in the poor light. She tried desperately to pull her hand away from the mist but she was no longer in control. A wave of nausea swept through the young girl as the numbness spread right through her body. Tamicka's legs gave way. She was like a puppet whose strings had been severed; all but the one that worked her left arm and soon that too was cut as the invisible grip released her, allowing her to crash to the floor.
"I'm the only one that you can trust. She will only lie to you." The voice seemed to come from a million miles away. "You mustn't believe her. She will hurt you. She will kill you."
Then everything went black.
3
Tamicka was trapped somewhere between sleep and insomnia. The stench of rot filled the air and everything around her was hidden in a shroud of darkness. After a moment of adjustment, her eyes became aware of a pinhole of light. It was miles away from where she stood, yet at the same time so close she was sure that if she reached out she would be able to touch it. All sense of feeling had returned to her. She was standing; her bare feet covered in something cold and slimy. The air all around her was icy but she didn't shiver. Even here – wherever here was – she had no control over her movements. Without thinking, she started to make her way over to the light, one soggy step after another. It grew quicker than her approach as if trying to meet her. The smell of decay grew stronger as the light closed in.
She heard the voice emanate from the glow. It was the voice she had heard in the bedroom but now it sounded stronger. The light was about the size of a large beach ball now and inside it a picture started to form before her eyes. Tamicka looked into it as if spying through a window as the vision became sharper. Inside the light, there was a room dimly illuminated by candles, which had been carefully placed on the ground. To her right, she could see a grubby old mattress on the bare floorboards. There was nobody in the room but she could hear the voice of a little girl. She was crying so profusely that it was hard to make out any of the words. The sound of multiple footfalls descended an unseen flight of wooden steps.
A door to Tamicka's left flew open and the child fell through it, crashing down onto the makeshift bed. She had no shoes or socks on her feet. Her white dress was covered in brown and green smears and was ripped in several places from where she had obviously been dragged across the ground outside. She got to her feet in seconds and ran the few short steps to the door but it was slammed shut before she could get there. Tamicka watched the girl as she frantically beat her tiny fists against the door.
"Please let me out of here. I want to go home now." Her desperation was clear as she threw her tiny frame at the door time and time again. "Mummy, help me. Please come and find me mummy, please."
Tamicka could feel the tears building up in her own eyes as she watched the sorry scene. Then something unexpected happened. The little girl stopped crying and turned her head to look straight at Tamicka through dead eyes. The same eyes she had seen in the painting earlier that day.
"She wants to hurt you."
Tamicka tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry.
"Who wants to hurt me? Why won't you say?" She was amazed at the rasp in her own voice.
"She wants to kill you."
"Please, just tell me who," Tamicka pleaded. "How can I protect myself if I don't know?"
"Don't worry, I can protect you, but you must do exactly as I say."
"But why can't you tell me?"
"It's time to wake up now Tamicka."
4
Tamicka awoke on the floor; a worried Mrs. Hughes knelt down beside her. She quickly closed her eyes and covered them with her hands against the bright sunshine that blazed through the two huge windows.
"Where am I?" Tamicka asked as she tried to move.
"It's all right little one, I'm here with you," said the old woman.
"What happened?"
"Can't you remember dear?" Mrs. Hughes asked as she touched Tamicka's forehead with the back of a craggy hand.
"No," replied Tamicka as she rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. When she finally managed to open her eyes against the brightness she could see that she was no longer in her bedroom. Instead, she lay surrounded by easels and half-finished paintings. "How did I get down here?"
"Hush now," the old woman said in a kind voice. "Let's get you up from this dirty old floor shall we?"
With the help of Mrs. Hughes, Tamicka managed to sit up. Her head throbbed as she tried to cast her mind back. She could recall the darkness of her bedroom and the thunderstorm but everything else was a blank. Somehow she had managed to wipe out an entire night from her memory.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"It's coming on for seven o'clock dear."
Tamicka's head spun and her stomach felt queasy. "I'm sorry but I don't feel too good."
"Come on then sweetheart," said Mrs. Hughes as she helped the girl to her feet. "Let's get you into bed. I think you might be coming down with something."
Tamicka was surprised at how weak she felt. If it hadn't of been for the old woman she seriously doubted she could have made it back over to the door of the art studio. It was then, as her head lolled towards the floor that she caught a glimpse of her own feet. They were covered in dried mud. She didn't know why but at that moment she looked back over her shoulder towards where she knew the painting of the little girl hung. Tamicka couldn't be sure but it almost looked as if the painted features were smiling at her.
Author's Note
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