The Dead House

Brett slams the counter and sways slightly. “Whatever, Naida. Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”


Naida takes a breath, and the camera tips as though she has leaned against the counter. “Lay off that beer for a while, okay? Looks like you’re going to fall right on your head any second. Forget about her for now. Just enjoy my party. And don’t puke anywhere, or it’ll be the last party I’m allowed to have until I die.”

Brett stares for a moment, then skulks from the room, muttering under his breath.

Naida sighs. “Got trouble brewing.” She pauses for a moment, and though alone, she adds, “Stay away from her, lad. I’m warning you. That one’s a magnet, and not for anything good.”


Halloween Party Clip #6

“Come on,” Naida says, clapping her hands strategically close to Kaitlyn’s ear. “Up. Now.”

Ari is no longer beside her.

Kaitlyn glares at her. “Don’t order me around. I’m staying here. That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not.” She glances behind her, making certain that everyone is occupied with other things. She’s not disappointed, as everyone is standing huddled around Mike by the fireplace, lighting spliff after spliff.

“Carly wanted to come to this party,” she says, keeping her voice low. “She wanted to have fun for once. Fun without thinking of you, how you might react, or what people might say. I started this thing early so she could have a piece, but it’s dark now, which means you get the show.” She sighs. “Look at what you’re wearing. You think she pulled that out of some magic hat? She worked for that—overtime at school for two weeks during free periods. She made that outfit you’re lounging in, and you’re telling me that you’re just going to sit there and sulk and drink your ass off and treat her effort like a big fat nothing?” Naida’s voice, though still low, is barely under control. “No. I won’t accept that. Get. Up. Dance. Act like you’re having fun and quit with the beer. Carly’ll be the one with the hangover, remember? You’re going to do this, Kaitlyn Johnson, so help me God, because when Carly asks me in the morning if you had a good time, I can at least say, aye, she joined in.”

Kaitlyn, whose mouth has fallen open, blinks. “Okay.”

Naida frowns. “What?”

“I said okay.”

“Crickey. I didn’t expect that to work.”

The ghost of a smile plays around Kaitlyn’s lips. “So you can point to this and say, ‘Kaitlyn joined in.’”

Naida nods and straightens up. She seems a little thrown. “And bring that Ari lad, wherever he’s gotten to.”

“Bathroom,” Kaitlyn murmurs, still seemingly dazed.

Naida nods again, then turns to the room. “Right, my people! Change the music already and dance! We’re all sufficiently drunk and stoned to get moving, right?”

Brenda dances over to the stereo and stares at the many dials and knobs.

“Let me,” Naida says, and presses a button. Loud music blares from the speakers.

Maggie whoops and then begins to dance haphazardly, flinging her arms around and wiggling her hips. Brenda bursts out laughing and joins in, followed by Scott and Juliet, each dancing wildly. Mike scoffs from the sofa, very stoned. Brett stands off to the side, watching Kaitlyn as she reluctantly leaves her sofa, downs another plastic cup of beer, and begins to dance, awkwardly at first but then more confidently and fluidly. In a later diary entry, Kaitlyn would remark, It was like Masqued again, Dee. If I closed my eyes and let myself believe, it was like I was back there on the dance floor with the Viking and my shadows, and I lost myself. I lost myself because I didn’t know how free I was away from Elmbridge and away from Claydon.


Halloween Party Clip #7

Some hours later Naida has retreated upstairs with Scott, and the music is slower, more languid. Brenda sits beside Mike, who murmurs under his breath, eyes closed. She leans forward, listening intently—intimately. A hint of her sweater moving is the only indication that Mike is caressing her lower back.

Brett sits on the living room main sofa, head back, eyes closed. He may be sleeping. Juliet and Maggie stand near the main entrance, glancing around sleepily and occasionally saying something to each other.

Kaitlyn is sitting in the armchair again. She laughs at something Ari says—they are the only source of raucous noise in the room.

Maggie exhales, and Juliet releases a soft, nervous cough.

“Too slow for you kidlets?” Brenda asks, her head hanging back, looking at the younger girls upside down.

Maggie shrugs. “Nothing’s happening.”

Juliet folds her arms. “It’s boring.”

“I’m contemplating,” Mike murmurs, a spliff still hanging from his lips.

Brenda rights her head. “Contemplating…?”

“Contemplating livening up this place.” He pulls out a smooth wooden case from behind the sofa cushion. “I found this earlier in there.” He nods at the ancient chest of drawers at the front of the room.

Brenda snorts. “A chessboard?”