Chapter 8

The doctor, Hailey, a lovely middle-aged woman with gorgeous, dark skin with her long black hair tied into an intricate braid, determines that I don't have a concussion. Apparently I'll just have a gnarly bruise on my forehead and she told me to take some painkillers and try to rest for the next few days.

As soon as she was gone, Landon helped me up to bed and tucked me up in the warmth of my duvet. On my request, he stayed in the room with me, falling asleep on the loveseat in the corner of my room. We didn't talk about the girl, or the accident, or the kiss, and I fell asleep straight away, comforted by his presence.

I wake up late the next day, my head pounding with a hangover and the very obvious bump on the right of my forehead. Lifting myself up with a lot of effort, I glance over to the loveseat, slightly saddened to see that Landon is no longer there, his blanket discarded across the floor.

But then my eyes travel to my bedside table and I notice a glass of water, two white pills and a note sitting on the surface.

Sorry I had to rush off. There's work to do on the farm. Take care of yourself and I'll check up on you later. My number is below.

Landon x

P.S. Don't feel embarrassed. About anything.

My lips flicker up into a smile. I've never known anyone like him before, and after spending my life surrounded by people who ignored or tormented me relentlessly, he's a breath of fresh air.

I can't even find it within me to feel bad or awkward about kissing him. I don't know what it could mean, if it even held any meaning, but I don't want to dwell on that. It was a good kiss with a good man. If that's all there was to it, then so be it.

I eagerly throw the pills down my throat, chasing them with long sips of water. I spend about half an hour in bed, waiting for the ache in my head to dull down to a small throb, before I finally peel the duvet away and get out of bed.

Jinx is in the room, stretching out as he watches me go into the en suite bathroom while running a hand through my hair. He follows me in, brushing against my bare legs, and it's then that I notice the injury on my head in the mirror. A good sized bump, bruised and grazed along with a brief cut just under my eye. I should be thankful I didn't break a bone after accidentally throwing myself down those stairs, but my face has definitely seen better days.

I try to hide it behind a layer of make-up then get dressed into tight black jeans, a frilly white top and a big, oversized leather jacket. Tying my hair up in a messy half-up, half-down style, I breathe out a shaky sigh. I'm planning to go and venture out into the village, specifically to try and get a job at Silverstones, but the injury is still noticeable and I brace myself for the inevitable questions I'm going to be asked. Unless they already know, which seems likely in a village like this one.

After giving Jinx one final pet, I grab a small bag and loop it over my shoulder, leaving the house and locking the door behind me. As soon as I'm out in the fresh air, I already feel a bit better, my hangover and painful memories of last night floating away with the tranquil breeze.

I walk down the path that leads into the town, my heeled boots clicking against the cobbled streets. There are quite a few people milling about, sitting at tables in front of quaint coffee shops or dipping in and out of a variety of stores. Some of them give me a small smile in greeting, some going as far as waving or calling out a quick 'good morning' my way. It's such a contrast to where I used to live; where people avoid eye contact and get loud-mouthed at you if you so much as brush past them on the busy streets.

It's not too difficult to locate Silverstones. I step through into the sweetest book shop I've ever seen, with tall, wooden shelves filled with books illuminated by twinkling fairy lights and fake candles. There's a kind-eyed young woman behind the desk wearing a pale pink hijab, with a man in the back sorting through a box of books and another reading one he just plucked from the shelf.

"Hey," the woman says, smiling over at me. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually yes," I say, stepping over. "I was wondering if you had any jobs open? My name is November Bennett, I just moved here, and--"

"Oh yes, November," she says, interrupting me. "You're a new friend of Landon's, correct?"

"Um, yes," I say, the word sounding more like a question.

She smiles brightly. "I got a call from him this morning saying you were looking for a job. And you've come to the right place. Carl over there is about to move to Manchester so we have a spot open," she explains, nodding over to the man sorting books in the back. He sends a friendly grin my way, looking over the top of his circular glasses.

"Oh, that's great," I say. I guess Landon beat me to it.

"All we'll need is a CV and for you to fill out some paperwork, and for you to answer this really important question," she says, her features stern as her eyes turn a bit stoic. "Do you like books?"

I almost begin to laugh, but her face doesn't change as she awaits my answer. "I love them. Have my entire life."

"Hmm, that answer will suffice," she says, holding out her hand. "My names Sadia, welcome to the job."

I shake her hand, smiling brightly. That was easy.

"If you come back tomorrow at twelve, we'll sort out your wages and shifts etcetera and I'll show you how this place works. And bring your CV, we'll get everything up and running so you can start as soon as possible."

I nod along to what she's saying, before thanking her genuinely and leaving the shop. Now that I have a job secured, a tiny weight that has been clinging to my chest disappears and I feel a little lighter. So I decide to browse some of the shops, planning to treat myself to something with the very little money I have left.

I'm in some charity shop, looking through the vintage clothes, when I notice Keely is in here, too. I approach her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and her face brightens tremendously when she notices I'm there.

"Ember!" she says excitedly, pulling me into a gentle hug. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too," I smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

I can barely contain my thrill at getting a new job in a cute village bookshop so I have to tell her immediately. "I just got a job at Silverstones," I say, a little smugly.

Her smile widens further, if possible. "Ember! That's so cool, I love it there."

"Maybe I'll get you some discounts," I smirk, leaning in closer as if telling her a secret. She laughs, a beautiful sound. "Anyway, what are you up to?"

"Just... shopping," she says, returning to rummaging through the railings stacked with clothes. "Don't get me wrong, I like how many charity shops there are around here, but I wouldn't mind a Primark or something nearby."

"When I get some money we'll go on a road trip to the actual shops," I say, already excited at the idea.

Keely gives me a smile and gives up on trying to find any clothes,  before her doe eyes zero in on the injury on my forehead. "Hey, what happened to your head?"

I sigh, a sequinned dress hanging on the rack catching my attention. "Let's go for a coffee. I'll explain it all there."

Keely accepts the offer and takes me to a cute café situated on the other side of the street. We walk in, hearing the slight jangle of the bell on the door while the man behind the counter greets us. Since the place is pretty much empty, it's not difficult to find a seat and we order our drinks, before I tell Keely everything happened last night.

"Wait, you fell down the stairs?" Keely repeats in disbelief, her concern evident in her face. "Are you okay?"

I shrug. "I'm fine. Just hit my head pretty hard."

"Oh Emby," Keely pouts. "That must have hurt. If you need anything my brother and I would be happy to help."

"Thank you," I say, touched by her words. "I just can't believe it happened. One second I was kissing Landon and the next... there was that girl."

Keely giggles out of nowhere. "I can't believe you snogged him after only a day of knowing him. That's bold."

"I was drunk, and I haven't met someone like him before," I say bashfully.

She holds up her hand. "Hey, you don't need to explain yourself. I get it. He's irresistible."

I think of the kiss and the note this morning and find myself smiling. But then... the little girl, falling down the stairs, seeing her again in the doorway. How am I meant to spend another night there with those memories rattling through my aching skull?

Keely is watching me intently, her gorgeous face softening. "You'll be okay," she says after a long moment, as if she read my mind. "You've only been living here for a few days now, and moving house and town can be a big change. When you get settled you'll feel a lot better."

Landon said pretty much the same. I'm praying that they're right, that as soon as I've been living in Windchime Manor for a few weeks I won't feel quite so paranoid. This was meant to be my fresh start, I don't want some hallucinations of a girl in the house scaring me away so soon.

Once Keely and I have finished our drinks, I decide to head back to the house to get working on my CV to show Sadia tomorrow. I take my time walking up the path alone, listening to the wind rustling in the trees and the birds tweeting as they flutter overhead. There's a butterfly that lands on a nearby dandelion, and I take a minute to watch it, marvelling at the burnt orange and deep brown of it's wings. Then it flies away, spooked by my presence as I realise I stood too close.

I make it to the house, take off my jacket and hang it up, before there's a noise from upstairs.

Oh God. Not again.

Jinx is screeching, as if in a fight with another animal. His shrieks are loud and piercing and I find myself running up the stairs in search of him, frantically opening doors and entering rooms. Flashbacks of last night come flooding back as my head throbs and my heart thuds.

I find him in an abandoned bedroom. He scurries away from the room, charging out of the door as soon as I've opened it.

He's not the only thing I find in the room.

There's a woman.

She's stood on a stool.

There's a noose around her neck.

She steps off the stool.

Her entire body drops like a stone, the sickening crack of her neck echoing through my piercing skull so harshly that it makes me scream out in horror.

Then she disappears.

The woman. The noose. The stool. All of it gone within seconds, as if it was never there at all.

WC: 1951