“I changed you already, you cheap piece of crap.” He reached over the banister and managed to switch on the hallway light to see into the kitchen. “Where’s the fire? Piece of junk.”
As he scanned the kitchen for smoke, he caught a glimpse of the kitchen chair. That feeling of dread he had experienced at lunchtime returned. He tried to shake it off but couldn’t. So he decided to do the one sensible thing he could think of. He reached over the banister again, turned off the hallway light, and ran as fast as he could up the stairs and back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
“Is everything all right?” Nicky asked, half asleep. “Any fire?”
“Everything’s fine,” he whispered, as he crept back over to his side of the bed. “No fire. Go back to sleep.”
“Then why did it go off?”
He climbed back into bed. “Good question.”
“Must be the battery. You should change it.”
“I did.”
“Good thinking, babe.” Her voice was now faint and her eyes were closed.
“Yesterday.”
“What was yesterday?”
“The battery. I changed it yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because it went off yesterday—and the day before.”
“Oh, right.” She pulled the quilt up to her neck. “Good night, babe. See you in the morning.”
Leaning on his elbow, Richard peered over her. “You don’t think that’s a little strange?”
“What’s strange?”
“That it went off three times without any smoke—and with a brand new battery?”
She opened her eyes and scowled. “Babe, I’m trying to sleep. I’ve got to be up in the morning.”
“Sorry, Nic. I think it’s weird, that’s all.”
“Look, I know what you’re thinking.”
He frowned. “What am I thinking?”
“You think it’s a bloody ghost doing it, don’t you?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s just a mystery.”
“Look, was it the same smoke alarm all three times?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well then.” She turned to face the other way. “We’ve got two others. So it’s just faulty. It’s only weird if one of the other ones went off as well. Now go to sleep. There’s no such thing as ghosts—good night.”
Richard put his head against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t say it was a ghost, he thought. I don’t even believe in ghosts. It’s just weird, that’s all. A mystery. I’m not scared of anything. Especially not bloody ghosts. And nothing under my roof.
Now he was wide awake and in desperate need to urinate. He could feel his bladder ache as he stared at the darkened landing through the bedroom door that was ajar.
Dying for a piss.
I think I’ll hold it.
Best not disturb Nicky.
Chapter 5
Day 5: Saturday
Saturday arrived at last, but to Richard it was just another day not at the office. He watched the rain hit the road as he waved Nicky goodbye. Her younger sister had walked out on her husband again, so Nicky had decided to pay her a visit in Worcester.
He hadn’t slept a wink the entire night. His eyes stung and his head ached. Stupid smoke alarm.
Closing the front door, he stepped back into the silent house. The quietness filled him with dread—so much so he almost trembled. But this time it wasn’t just the dread of solitude, it was something else, something that he had not felt in years. And it was barely something he could even admit to himself. The feeling of terror as a child. Believing, without a shadow of doubt, that something horrible lived under his bed. And no matter how many times his father would check, try to reassure him, nothing would douse those awful feelings of vulnerability.
Shaking off the sensation like a cold shiver, he walked into the kitchen.