The Haunting of Blackwood House (4 page)

Breathless Jenny turned out to be a surprisingly staunch ally in Mara’s fight to move house. With her rental contract ending with the month, Mara’s days were filled with phone calls to arrange inspections, pay taxes, chase up forms that were moving sluggishly, beg for expedition whenever it was possible and, of course, the eternal search for a new job.

They cut it close. Mara was on the last day of her contract when Jenny dropped off Blackwood House’s keys with an anxiously whispered, “Good luck, honey!”

Mara waved to the hot-pink car as it crawled out of her alley then opened her fist to grin at the tarnished, rusty key.
My own home. It may be a dump, but it’s
my
dump.

She fished her mobile out and left a message on Neil’s phone while she climbed the stairs to her apartment. He was at work and likely wouldn’t finish until late that afternoon. Mara would have to be patient. She needed his car to move her few possessions.

Mara wiggled the doorhandle until it opened, and entered her room for the final time. It felt incredible that, after four years, she’d finally have a house of her own. The incessant sacrifices and innumerable cut corners had paid off.

She owned very little that she wanted to take with her besides her wardrobe. Just her phone, toiletries, a collection of gifts from Neil, and a small bag of tinned food she’d bought to get her through her first day at Blackwood. She hadn’t seen the building since the inspection two weeks previously and didn’t want to commit herself to any large purchases until she had a better feel for what she needed.

Mara crossed to the window and sat in the small plastic chair. She tried to immerse herself in an ebook on her phone to pass the time but couldn’t stop checking the clock every few minutes. After half an hour of futile half distraction, she put the phone down and leaned on the sill to watch the alley. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the silver car parked at the curb below.
Neil. He must have gotten my message and left work early.

The car wasn’t idling, which meant Neil was coming inside. Mara grimaced as she turned around. In the six months they’d been dating, Mara had never invited Neil into her room. She’d seen his house; his family wasn’t quite wealthy, but they were very comfortably upper-middle-class, and their home had been decorated with a great deal of care. Rows of photos hung on the walls and cluttered the lace-coated mantels. The furniture had a quaint, homey vibe, and there were bowls of potpourri in the bathroom. It was the polar opposite of Mara’s apartment.

Mara knew Neil wouldn’t like her home, and she’d been hoping to avoid an uncomfortable scene by never letting him see it.
Maybe I can head him off on the stairs.

A brisk knock made her cringe.
Damn. Too late now
. Mara crossed to the door, took a breath to brace herself, and pulled it open.

“Hey, I got your message. Ready to—” Neil paused in the entryway as his eyes roved over the one-room home. Mara’s mattress—a bed frame would have been too expensive—was propped against one wall. A portable cooker, single pot, plate, and spoon sat opposite. The foldable dining table and plastic chair sat below the window, and a cardboard portable wardrobe held her clothes.

Mara felt colour rise in her face. She kept her home clean. Her clothes were arranged neatly and washed often. She’d painted the windowsill with a half bucket of white paint someone had thrown away. But she still knew it was a pathetic living compared to what Neil enjoyed, and mingled embarrassment and injured pride scorched at her insides.

Neil took a step into the room and swore. That startled Mara. She’d never heard anything harsher than fake swears—
cripes
,
shoot
, and
sugar
were his favourites—leave his lips.

“Mara—” He broke off and pressed one hand to his mouth. His voice was thick. “Have you seriously been living here?”

“Of course I have.” Mara crossed her arms defensively.

Neil’s eyes scanned the seeping cracks that ran up one wall and the exposed wires clustered in one corner. His mouth turned into a hard line. “I had no idea—you should have said something—”

“And what?” She knew an aggressive note was crawling into her voice, but she couldn’t fight it.

Neil blinked at her, brows constricted. “You could have stayed with me. I know you don’t like Mum’s home, but we could have gotten an apartment together—”

“I don’t need you white knighting your way into my life and solving my problems,” she snapped. “I’ve been quite comfortable on my own, thank you.”

Neil didn’t reply, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Her anger deflated like an eviscerated balloon.
Crap
.

He wasn’t judging her, she knew. He was berating himself for not having helped. Neil was a fixer; the desire to solve problems was as central to his personality as Mara’s love of hot chips was to hers. And seeing a problem he could have fixed, but hadn’t, was agony for him. More than that, he worried about her. Even after six months of dating, Mara still wasn’t used to having another human altruistically interested in her welfare. It unsettled her almost as much as she liked it.

Mara’s pride still stung, but the expression on Neil’s face cooled the burn. She stepped close to him and reached up to lace her fingers around the back of his neck. She pulled his head down until their foreheads met, then she smiled into his wide blue eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry I snapped. But I survived three and a half years without you—remember? And I’m proud that I did. I want to make my way through this world on my own two feet.”

Neil sighed heavily. His arms wrapped around her lower back and pulled her closer, capturing her. She found she didn’t mind at all; his large hands stroked her back, and she shivered at the sensation.

“I know,” he said. “And I admire that. But I could’ve helped if you’d said something.” He shuddered. “Did you even have enough to eat? Crap, no wonder you always seemed hungry—”

Mara kissed him, hard, to stun him into silence. When she pulled back she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Jeeze, no, it’s not
that
dire. I just hate cooking, and your food is freakishly tasty. Listen—I could have had a nicer apartment if I’d wanted it. But I’ve been saving instead. I wanted my own place. The more money I spent on useless things like televisions and curtains and… I dunno, white-picket fences or whatever fancy housewives spend their money on… the longer it would have taken to buy a house. I was comfortable. Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Neil. I’m finally getting everything I’ve wanted, all on my own efforts, and I feel damn good about it.”

Neil studied her eyes, testing for honesty, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you to that new house, then. Do you need help packing?”

“Hang on a second.” Mara pecked his lips a final time then ducked out of his grip, picked an empty cardboard box off the foot of her bed, and went to the window ledge. She’d arranged Neil’s gifts there to brighten her room, and she swept them into the box in a smooth motion. “Grab the wardrobe, and we’re ready to go.”

Neil hesitated. “You don’t want anything else?”

“Nah. It all sucks. C’mon. I’ve got a somewhat larger but equally sucky house to move into.”

Finally, Neil smiled. It was what Mara had been waiting for, and she felt all of the tension melt away. He picked up the cardboard wardrobe in a fluid motion, braced it against his shoulder, and followed her out of the door. This time, Mara didn’t bother kicking it closed.

“Holy crap. I don’t think I could
buy
a boyfriend as good as you are.” Mara, nestled in the car’s overly large passenger seat, dug through the brown paper bag Neil had given her. She found it impossible to choose just one item. She pulled out both the chocolate and the meat pie and began alternating bites of each.

“There’s some muffins Mum baked, too,” Neil said, not trying to disguise his delight as he watched Mara out of the corner of his eye. “And there’s a really nice apple-and-walnut salad—”

“Dear, sweet Neil. Will you never learn?” Mara found the salad container and smiled at it fondly. “You can eat this later.”

She tossed the plastic packet into the backseat then turned as it made a strange thudding noise. “Hey, what’s with all the boxes?”

“Just some equipment.”

“From work?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Thanks for picking me up so quickly, by the way.” Mara returned to the chocolate with gusto. “Did you have to cut your shift very short?”

“Not too badly. Autumn’s usually a slow time of year anyway, so Joel doesn’t mind me reducing my hours.”

Neil was a partner in his carpentry business and had a small crew working under him. Mara had met the other partner, Joel, a few times and thought he was a little too affable for his own good.

“So…” Neil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

He was trying to sound casual, but Mara knew him too well. She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking…”

“Give it to me straight. I’m a big girl.”

Neil chuckled, and the tension dropped from his shoulders. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I? All right. I know how important being independent is for you. And I really, really like that. But—”

“But you want to help.” Mara took another large bite of the meat pie to hide her smile as Neil exhaled deeply.

“Yeah. We’ve been together for a while. I want to be able to do things for you once in a while.”

Mara dropped the uneaten food back into the bag and folded the top over. “You already do way more than you should. You’re constantly buying me food—it’s going to make me fat, by the way—and you’ve already offered to help with the house’s repairs. I’d say that’s plenty.”

“The house is kind of what’s bothering me actually.” Neil kept his eyes fixed on the road, but Mara could tell he was distracted. The speedometer was hovering slightly over the legal limit.

“Go on.”

“It’s a mess, Mara. The roof is collapsing, it’s full of rotting furniture and dead bugs, and there’s no phone reception. If something happened to you—”

“You checked the house out yourself and said it’s sound. It’s not about to collapse on me.”

“I could have made a mistake, though. What if the floor gives out, or you step on a rusty nail, or the boiled cabbage stalker is still hanging around?”

“
Boiled cabbage
—you’re mixing up my metaphors, Neil.”

“My point is, it’s at least five hours’ walk to town, and you don’t have a car. If anything goes wrong, you’d be trapped with no way to communicate with the outside world. I’m not asking you to move in with me or anything. Just let me arrange a hotel room for you until the worst of the issues are fixed.”

“You’ve got a better chance of convincing me to eat one of your salads.”

Neil sighed heavily. “Mara—”

“I know.” She squeezed his arm. “You want to help. And I really, truly appreciate that. But I’m also really, truly excited to live in my new house. The damage isn’t anywhere near as bad as you’re making it out to be, and I’m confident in my ability to defend myself if I bump into a geriatric stalker. Please,
please
don’t be anxious about me.”

Neil worried at his lower lip. The car was coasting nearly ten kilometres faster than it should have been. “Would you be open to a compromise?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Could I stay with you tonight? Just in case.”

Mara tilted her head to one side and tried not to grin too broadly. “A sleepover? That’s not a compromise at all. You’re more than welcome.”

The car began to slow down. “Great. I can stay until eight the following morning, but then I’d have to get to my work. Is that all right with you?”

“Absolutely.” A thought struck her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Will your mother be okay with it?” She quite liked Neil’s mother, Pam, but the older woman held what Mara could only describe as
traditional values
.

“I already ran it past her—she’ll be fine by herself for tonight.”

“But we’ll be all alone.
Together
. It’s absolutely scandalous.”

Neil grinned. “Let me put it this way. I’m her only child and still unmarried at twenty-six. I think I could take up residence in a bordello and she’d turn a blind eye provided it produced some grandchildren.”

Mara had to laugh.

They left the main road and followed the incline into the country area. Another turn moved them out of the farming land and into a heavily wooded landscape. The road, which had been sealed until then, turned to dirt and narrowed so much that Neil had to pull over to let vehicles driving in the opposite direction pass.

Blackwood’s driveway was a long stretch from any other signs of habitation. Mara couldn’t help wondering what had prompted the original owner to choose that plot of land. She knew that, if she followed the dirt road farther, it would eventually lead into the next town. But Blackwood House had been built nearly halfway between the two points of civilisation and didn’t seem to have any close neighbours.

Her driveway was a little over four kilometres long. The path was potholed and rough, but Neil’s car managed it without trouble. Partway along, green and autumn-yellowed trees gave way to the spindly, grey-trunked monsters that surrounded Mara’s house.

They turned around a final bend and found Blackwood looming ahead of them. Mara dug her fingernails into the car’s seat as an almost electric excitement rushed through her. The house looked even better than she remembered. It was hardly going to win the Cosy Home of the Year award, but it had personality, and it suited Mara perfectly.

Neil pulled up in the scrappy yard and squeezed her hand. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

Neil opened the boot while Mara followed the white-stone path to the front door. She took the bronze key out of her pocket and fit it into the lock. The metal scraped, and when the door opened inwards, Mara felt pulled forward like a morsel of food being sucked into a monstrous fish’s mouth.

The entry room was exactly how she remembered it. The aged wood groaned around her as she turned on the spot. To her left, the long-unfinished meal still sat on the table. “Home Is Where The Heart Is” hung on the wall in the room to her right.

Home
. It was such a warm word. Mara had lived in houses before but never a true home. Blackwood felt innately good—innately right—as if she’d found the one place on earth she actually belonged.

Footsteps behind her announced Neil’s arrival. He carefully placed her portable wardrobe into the corner of the room then crossed his arms as he surveyed the entryway. “We should have hired someone to clean the place out a bit.”

“I didn’t legally own it until this morning,” Mara said, shrugging. “Besides, no point in wasting money on something I can do myself.”

To call the house a bargain was an absolute understatement. Mara’s savings, which she’d expected to almost entirely lose on an apartment, had covered Blackwood and left plenty to spare. Even after she paid for spare wood and tiles to repair the aging building, she’d have enough to last her at least four months, provided she didn’t buy too many frivolities. Four months was plenty of time to find a job, and she could spend her spare hours making Blackwood more comfortable.

“What’s first, boss?” Neil asked.

Mara twirled then faced the stairwell. “There’s no electricity, so we’d better pick a bedroom before night sets in. Somewhere that will get moonlight through its window.”

“Good plan. We might find something on the second floor; it’s less cluttered than downstairs and should hold its heat better. I’ll grab some more stuff while you start exploring.”

“Meet you up there.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway up the stairs that Mara questioned Neil’s last phrase.
More stuff? Does he mean my box of trinkets? Or maybe he brought something for dinner. I wouldn’t complain if he had; tonight feels like it needs something more special than tinned tuna.

On the second floor, the wide hallway branched to her left and to her right. Mara searched through it and found three empty rooms. The first two had shattered windows, but the third’s glass was only cracked. Mara held her hand near the pane and felt a whistle of cold air.
Maybe I can find some cardboard to cover it.

All of the other bedrooms were furnished, and Mara didn’t want to imagine the insects and cockroaches that might be living amongst the old wardrobes and under the decayed rugs. Her new room wasn’t large, but it was at least clear and didn’t have many cobwebs lurking around the roof. Floral wallpaper—shabby, peeling, and discoloured—coated the wall around the door.

“Mara?” Neil called.

“In here.”

He backed into the room, two stacked boxes filling his arms. Mara recognised the cartons from the back of his car and frowned. “I thought you said that was equipment from work.”

“Some of it is.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “But I brought some extras just in case.”

“Just in case of
what
?”

“In case my beloved girl didn’t bring anything to sleep on, for instance.” Neil dropped the boxes into the corner of the room. “Or anything to cook on.” He caught hold of Mara’s wrist and tugged her close. “Or to heat herself when it gets cold at night.” Kisses peppered her cheeks, forehead, and nose.

Mara, laughing, squirmed against him. “I swear you’re like the paranoid mother I never had. I don’t need you fussing over me.”

“Really, truly?” Neil quirked an eyebrow. “Were you just going to sleep on the floor?”

Mara tried to worm herself free, but Neil’s grip was too solid to escape. “Of course not. I was going to take one of the house’s mattresses and flip it over.”

“Ma-
ra
!”

The abject horror in Neil’s voice made her laugh uncontrollably. Neil seized on her moment of vulnerability and pulled her closer, pressing her to his chest and lifting her from the ground. His arms wrapped around her, seeming to engulf her. Mara, breathless and delighted, stopped fighting and allowed herself to be held.

Before meeting Neil, she’d hated feeling vulnerable. To be weak was a source of shame and fear. It made her a target. It
hurt
. But Neil could make her feel entirely powerless in a way she loved. His arms never squeezed too hard, and his words were never harsh. To be vulnerable around him was to be safe. So she draped her arms around his neck and let her body fall limp as he held her and kissed her hair.

“Mara, Mara, Mara…” he murmured. The adoration in his voice was almost too sweet to endure. “I love you. So damn much. Please be safe.”

Mara opened her eyes at the final words. There was a pang of fear in them as though some deep, anxious emotion was inches from escaping its restraints.
He seemed so cheerful today. Was it just a cover for this worry?
She raised her hands to run them through his hair, and he pulled her closer in response. “Neil. Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I know.” Neil took a deep breath, kissed her hair a final time, then gently lowered her back to the floor. He looked a little sheepish but still didn’t remove his hands from her back. “I know. You’re a firecracker. Of course you’ll be fine.”

Mara pulled him down to kiss her. His lips were hesitant, and she took control, pulling him in deeper. She was hungry for more; her right hand gripped his shirt, and her left slipped underneath it to brush across his chest. He shivered in response, and she spread her fingers to press against the muscles.

A clatter startled them apart. They turned, both breathing heavily, to see that one of Neil’s boxes had toppled from its partner and spilt its contents across the floor.

“Huh.” Neil, still flushed, squeezed Mara’s hand before crossing to the box. “I can’t have stacked them properly. We’d better unpack before it gets too late, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Mara’s heart raced, partly from the thrill of the kiss and partly from the startle. She followed Neil and knelt to open the first box. As she sorted through the contents, intrigue grew into incredulity. There were two sleeping bags—he’d clearly planned to stay with her that night—and pillows. Below those were rolled foam mats and a small gas heater. Then a portable stove and a heavy icebox, toiletries, a compact first-aid kit, and duct tape. “Where’d you get all of these?”

“What I didn’t already own I bought or borrowed.” Neil was returning the spilt contents to the box that had overturned. Mara caught sight of multiple torches and spare batteries, a radio, an umbrella, gloves, a roll of garbage bags, towels, and spare blankets.

“Do you intend to move in?”

Neil pecked her cheek as she leaned too close. “No, but you do.”

“I was going to buy most of this stuff tomorrow,” she groused.

“And now you can enjoy it tonight. Hang on; the floor is disgusting. I’m going to see if I can find a broom.”

Mara huffed as Neil left, then she turned to explore the icebox. He’d packed meats, breads, fresh and dried fruit, and a bag of salad leaves. “Why does he even bother?” Mara muttered, shoving the leaves aside. She restacked the boxes to clear the floor as much as she could then stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. Neil was right; the floor was beyond gross. She was going to have a fun time cleaning her way through Blackwood’s rooms.

It took Neil several minutes to return. When he did, he carried not only a broom and dustpan but also a rucksack from his car. “The old owners left plenty of cleaning supplies—though the mop would probably make the floor worse. But at least you can make use of the buckets and washtubs.”

Mara took his rucksack and held it off the ground while Neil swept around her feet. “That’s kind of strange, isn’t it? It’s like they abandoned
everything
when they left. Not just the big furniture, but blankets, clothes… even their dinner on the table. What would make a family leave so quickly and never come back?”

He hesitated midsweep. “Maybe you were right about the gas leak.”

“I don’t think so. Jenny was able to arrange for the gas and water to be reconnected while the paperwork was still going through. I had an inspector come down a couple of days ago, and he gave it the all-clear for leaks.”

“Strange.” Neil collected the grime into a tidy pile, and Mara knelt to brush the dust, dead flies, grime, and desiccated plaster into the dustpan. She then carried it to the adjacent room, which had a pane missing in its window, and emptied the dirt into the backyard. When she returned to the bedroom, he had unrolled both sleeping bags and was fastening strips of duct tape over the crack in the window.

Mara approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around his torso. He was so tall that she could barely reach his shoulder blades, but she kissed them and felt the reverberations in his chest as he murmured happily.

“There’s still a few hours of sunlight left,” Mara said. “I thought we could spend it making a list of the major stuff that needs fixing. That way I can order some supplies tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Neil broke his strip of tape off the roll, and Mara released him reluctantly. He dropped the tape back into his box and dug out a notepad and two pens. “Want to work together or separately?”

“We’ll get through it faster if we split up.”

Neil ripped a sheet from the pad and passed the rest to Mara. “Let’s divide it by floors, then. D’you want the top or ground?”

“I’d love to see more of downstairs while there’s still light. Just note the major stuff like missing windows or rotten wood. We can worry about cosmetic issues later.”

“On it.” Neil headed into the hallway. Mara went the opposite direction and took the stairs down to the ground floor. She started in the dining room and jotted down the broken windows and where one section of the wall was decaying from water damage, then she followed the entryway into the kitchen.

“Cripes,” Mara murmured. The room was a mess. Rat and cockroach droppings littered the benches, and pots, plates, and baking pans lay askew. Judging by the dark stains in the dishes, the house’s old owners had been saving the washing-up for after dinner.

She’d have to throw the dirty pots out, but the collection in the drawers looked to be high-quality. She thought she could use them after giving them a good wash. The same went for many of the plates and the cutlery.

Mara turned from the kitchen. Other than the mess, the room’s structure seemed to be sound. She’d have to check if the gas stove still worked, but she could worry about that later.

Past the kitchen was a laundry. An ancient washing machine and dryer sat against one wall. Mara opened the washing machine’s lid then dropped it back in place as she gagged. Clothes had been left to mould and decay, and the smell was appalling.
Looks like I’ll be using the town’s laundromat until I can afford a new machine.

The laundry had a door leading into the backyard, but it was falling out of its frame. Mara examined it and thought it might only need new hinges and a fresh lock. She noted them in her book.

She retraced her steps to the kitchen and took its other doorway into what she guessed was a recreation room. It had very little furniture—just a tiny boxy television with antenna sticking out of its hood, two crumbling lounges, a wooden table and two chairs, and a cupboard. Mara opened the cupboard door and gasped as a rat shot past her and scurried into the kitchen. She made a face as she watched its tail whisk out of sight, then she turned back to examine the small collection of games inside the cupboard. She recognised Monopoly and Battleship, but the others weren’t familiar.