Taking one of his frozen hands back out into the cold he patted the dog’s head. ?Good boy, Teach. Good dog.?Briefly, the dog brought his nose up to lick Jason’s fingers, and then got back to his task. Jason’s skin burned where the cold saliva had touched, but he didn’t care. For the first time in a long time he felt whole again, and he even managed an uneasy smile, as the constant rattling of the

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  machine far away inside told him he was probably physically a fucking long way further away from being whole than he’d ever been in his so-far sorry life.

  Realizing Teacher had stopped, Jason halted alongside his four-legged friend. ?What’s the matter, Teach? Are we lost??

  Stroking the dog, he realized that Teacher’s head was tilted, all his muscles stiff and taut with concentration. What was he listening to? Straining hard, trying to shut out the noises both inside and out, Jason sought for the sound that had grabbed the dog’s attention, but to no avail.

  ?What can you hear, boy??His whisper was more to himself than the dog, but the words broke Teacher’s freeze, and the dog started trotting forward, making Jason jog alongside him in the dark to keep up.

  The wind picked up, whistling around them, an invisible, bitter assailant trying to push them backwards, forcing Jason to lower his head to protect his stinging eyes, but as the two of them kept moving, the air feeling as if it was shredding his skin, Jason felt his adrenaline rising. He could hear it. Only just, but he could hear the sound that had attracted Teach. It was the sound of quiet crying, but unlike all the other noises that surrounded them, this one seemed real. He pushed on faster, putting blind faith in his feet not to stumble in the blackness, and Teacher easily matched him.

  Behind them, a deep rumble started, probably way back where all the corridors met, where Teacher had brought them in, and as the mass of resonance grew, the ground beneath them started to vibrate, gently at first, but growing rapidly more violent, shaking Jason’s whole body, making him weave unsteadily as he ran. What the fuck was going on? It felt as if they were in the middle of an earthquake.

  Stumbling sideways, he fell into the wall, his hand slipping into a wide crack. A wide crack that was getting

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  wider. Earthquake. He paused momentarily, letting the information sink in, before a belch of dust hit him from the bowels behind them.

  The corridor is collapsing. That’s what is happening. The corridor is collapsing and it’s rapidly catching them up.

  ?Go, Teach, go!?he yelled as he burst into a sprint, his panic overcoming the unsteadiness beneath him, ducking instinctively as the bricks began to crash down a few paces behind them. Feeling his muscles stretch as he ran, and knowing that this wasn’t funny, this wasn’t funny at all, he couldn’t help the wild laughter that rose from his throat. What was the house trying to do? Didn’t it understand? It couldn’t hurt them, no matter how much it might want to. Because we aren’t really here. Not real flesh and blood here. He was strapped up to some god-awful machine in a hospital somewhere, and Teach? Well, Teacher was dead. We’re here but not here. Figure that one out, Robster, you’re the brains. But Rob wasn’t here with any answers, and Jason’s legs pumped quickly toward the small glimmer of light that appeared as the corridor veered round to the right. This was no time to take chances, because here or not, all this shit was feeling pretty real to him.

  Following Teacher into the golden glow, he brought himself to a halt as the ground spread out into a place he vaguely recognized. The awful noise of destruction that had been chasing them stopped abruptly, and glancing behind him, Jason saw the space they had come through knitting itself into a solid wall, within seconds no longer any evidence remaining that a corridor had ever existed. He didn’t feel any surprise. He didn’t think there was anything this house could do that would surprise him.

  But he did feel a vague sense of disquiet. Something was niggling him. How would they get out if they couldn’t get back to the core of the house? That was the way they came in. Somehow, he didn’t think that the front door was

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  going to work for him and Teach. They were operating on a different level.

  The dog whined, and he turned away from the wall, leaving the thought with it. They could worry about getting out later. Anyway, he smiled to himself, maybe Teacher had a plan. He’d had most things sussed so far. Pulling a cigarette from the battered packet in his top pocket, Jason found his lighter and lit it, inhaling hard before looking around at their surroundings.

  They were on the wide landing at the top of the beautiful, curved staircase that Gina’s grandfather had built with such care for his family. It was just as Jason remembered it, except that its beauty was now destroyed by the spider webs and dust that hung languidly from the ceiling and covered the banisters. There were patches of damp on the walls, and an unpleasant smell rose from the rotting carpet. He looked around with disgust. Had time done this? He didn’t think so. Gina had people to look in on it. They wouldn’t let it get into this state. The house had done this to itself. But why? Why? Or maybe Gina had done it from wherever she was.

  A glow of light touched the landing from downstairs, and through the gloom he picked out the figure of a tiny girl, hugging her knees tight to her chest and peering through the banisters. Something about her was familiar, and a vague memory tickled at the back of his mind, but when he pushed to recall it, all he could think of was pain. Shooting, agonizing pain eating at his back and neck.

  The little girl, her long hair hanging down in untidy curls, whimpered, a small mewling sound she seemed unaware of, and Teacher whined in response, nudging Jason’s leg gently with his damp nose.

  ?Okay, okay.?

  He walked over to her and she looked up at them silently, her face impassive apart from a slight flickering in her eyes as she glanced at Teacher who sat beside her,

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  panting his hot breath into her face. Cautiously, she raised a small hand and stroked him, as if to confirm that he was really there.

  Jason crouched down leaving Teacher between him and the child, so as not to frighten her.

  ?This is Teacher. I think he likes you. I’m Jason. What’s your name??

  She kept her eyes on Teacher. ?Tabitha. But my mummy calls me Tabby.?Her voice sounded dry from crying and Jason had to strain to hear it as she continued. ?Are you the reason the voice is so angry??

  Jason lowered himself down so that he was sitting cross-legged.

  ?What voice, Tabby??

  She shrugged, her face tilting up to meet his. ?It lives here. It made me come here and now it won’t let me go. I thought it was nice, but now it frightens me. It won’t let me go.?She leaned forward slightly. ?It says it doesn’t want to be alone anymore. It says it wants her to come back.?Her voice trembled. ?I think the loneliness has driven it mad. That’s what I think.?

  Tabby’s talking about Syracousse. The voice is Syracousse.

  Jason’s head swum as he listened, the memories closing in around him. Carrie had been right. They had gotten it wrong. So wrong. It had never been Gina at all, not Teacher, not Philip Grace, not even the broken glass on the kitchen floor. None of it. None of this. Wherever Gina was, she was innocent. Lost in the awful realization of it all, of the hate he had wasted, he felt bile rising, burning his chest.

  It was only when Tabby tugged at his sleeve that he realized she’d asked him a question.

  ?What did you say, honey??

  ?Can you take me home. Can you??

  Jason glanced at Teacher who slid downwards until he was lying with his nose between his front paws. The dog

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  didn’t look up. He looked back at the pleading little girl and smiled gently, pushing a curl out of her face.

  ?No. No, we can’t.?

  Her face crumpled, small tears glinting in the half light, and Jason realized suddenly why he and Teacher were there.

  ?No, we can’t take you home, but someone’s coming soon who can. We’ll keep you company until they get here, and then we’ll make sure you get home.?He patted the head of the toy she clutched under one arm. ?You and your teddy bear.?

  ?You won’t leave me??

  He shook his head. ?No. We won’t leave you.?

  Tabitha looked back between the banisters. ?It keeps showing me the same thing over and over like a film that’s gone funny. It shows me again and again, but I don’t understand it.? Her head tilted slightly, confused little furrows forming at the top of her nose. ?I think the man’s my granddad. He sounds like my granddad, but he looks different.?

  Jason peered between the carved wooden poles to see, and the full canvas opened up below him.

  The glow that was filtering its way up the stairs was sunlight, and Jason could see the Graces’ mahogany sideboard with the old-fashioned rotary phone sitting on its neatly polished surface, as it had done all those years ago. His eyes rested there for only a second before being drawn in wonder to the delicate figure sitting on the second to bottom stair.

  Camilla Grace’s blond hair was piled up in a loose bun at the back of her head, and she looked as beautiful as she ever had to Jason, despite the red that was smeared across her face, and the deep crimson that stained the bottom of her shoestring cotton summer dress. Her hands clung to the ornate, thick banister below and she rested her elegant head against it, like a child seeking comfort.

  Lost in shock, she didn’t flinch when the air was filled

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  with Gina’s voice shouting, ‘NO, NO, NO’ over and over again, and watching the past being played out before him, Jason knew that somewhere off-stage, a younger version of himself, and Carrie and Rob were running as fast as they could as far as they could, away from Gina, away from the leaking body on the kitchen floor, away from each other.

  After a few moments, Gina’s screams turned to wails, long soulless sounds that were a thousand times worse than her shouts of denial, ripping at Jason’s insides. He reached for Teacher and found a tiny hand clinging to the shaggy fur. Covering it with his larger palm, he heard the large brass knocker on the front door calling out three times. This, and not the sound of her daughter’s agonized voice tearing through the house, roused Camilla from her seat, and she stared at the door for a few moments, with what looked to Jason like hope in her eyes, before hurriedly rushing to open it.

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  Jack Hollingsworth pressed the Play button on the answering machine for the second time, listening as Kelly’s tired voice repeated itself.

  ?Dad, I’m at Rob’s. Gina Grace is here, too.?She paused, and Jack could almost see her fiddling nervously with her hair at the other end. ?Something really strange happened up at Syracousse and Gina seems to think she’s got something to do with it, that it’s got something to do with Tabby going missing.?Another pause. ?I don’t know. I think I’m going crazy. Anyway, I’ll be back a bit later, but I’m here if you hear anything. Anything at all.?

  The long beep started and Jack turned off the machine. Staring into space, he couldn’t bring himself to move, his insides hollowing out with so many mixed emotions. Gina was back. Gina and Kelly were together at Rob’s. It was so hard to believe, but deep down he knew he’d always expected this day to come. He’d only hoped it would be later. Always later.

  His heart ached in ways it hadn’t for years, the old memories coming back as if they’d never been away. It seemed

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  that the truth was determined to come out; it had always been determined to come out. Anger at the stranger he was all those years ago bubbled up inside him. He should have let the truth come out when it was meant to, on that awful afternoon. He should have faced up to it then. He should have done what Camilla wanted. He should have listened to his heart. Leaning back against the wall, ignoring the pain in his hip, he shut his eyes and let the memory loose, let his guilt play with him one more time.

  Camilla had said there’d been an accident, and the alarm bells should have started ringing then, but his heart was too busy thumping in his chest, reminding him that some things were never over, no matter how much you pretended they were.

  He glanced backwards, a force of habit from times gone by, before rapping the knocker three times. It was a few moments before she pulled the door open, and then the bells kicked in hard. He stood frozen, staring at the blood that laid trails across her cheek, at the way her whole body trembled, and then into her eyes that seemed open far too wide.

  ?Oh sweet Jesus, Camilla.?

  She tried to smile, her mouth twitching terribly. ?You’d better come inside.?

  Moving past her, and shutting the door behind them, he paced into the hall, his guts churning. He tried to keep his voice calm. ?Tell me what’s happened. Whose blood is that on you? Whose?? Coming from the kitchen behind him, he could hear someone sobbing, a girl crying, and relief flooded through him. It wasn’t Gina’s. Thank the Lord for that. It wasn’t Gina’s.

  Camilla tugged at her hands as she sat on the stairs, and Jack noticed the streaks of blood that were drying on the banister. Oh Christ, what the hell had happened now?

  Her voice was as soft as a child’s. ?It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t me. He was shouting at me again, calling me

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  selfish for not wanting to sell the house, and I was just wishing that he’d shut up, thinking how much easier life would be if he’d just die, and then … and then it was like the knife was tugged out of my hand and all I could see was it stabbing him. Stabbing him over and over.?She gazed up at him, pleading with those beautiful eyes that were almost purple.

  ?You know it wasn’t me, don’t you, Jack? You believe me, don’t you? It was just one of those things. Those things that happen. You remember them, don’t you, Jack??

  He sighed and rubbed his face, fighting the urge to throw up, fighting the pain of hearing Gina sobbing over the body of the man she thought was her father. Yes, he remembered those things. Those strange events. He looked at Camilla and shook his head slightly. ?I heard about the dog, Camilla.?The flinch in her face told him everything he needed to know. ?I think these things are getting out of hand, don’t you??

  She said nothing, and Jack felt his duty like lead inside him. ?Is he in the kitchen? I’d better go take a look. We’ve got to get Gina out of there.?

  Leaping from the stairs as he tried to pass her, Camilla grabbed his arm. ?Not yet, Jack. I need your help.?

  Stroking her hair, trying to calm her down, Jack felt his heart breaking inside. ?I can’t help you, Camilla. No one’s going to believe any of your strange stories, true or not. No one’s going to believe you didn’t do it.?

  She shook her head impatiently. ?No, no. I don’t want your help for me. Not for me. I want it for Gina. Take her home with you. Tell the truth about her. I don’t want her to go to Philip’s family. If she goes there, she’ll hate me for the rest of her life. Please, Jack. Please.?

  Jack felt numb, listening to her words but not really hearing them. There’d been a time when he could have done what she wanted, but not now. Not now.

  ?I can’t. You know I can’t. I’ve got my own wife and daughter to think of. I can’t do it. It’s better this way.?

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  Tears shimmered angrily in Camilla’s eyes. ?Gina’s your daughter, too.?

  ?I would have left my wife for you.?He took her by the shoulders so that they were face to face. ?When you were pregnant, I gave you the opportunity. We were both going to leave and have our own family. Do you remember? Do you remember how happy I was? But you couldn’t do it, Camilla. You were too afraid. And now things are different. I’ve got Kelly.?He pulled her gently to him and kissed her on the forehead. ?I would have done anything for you, Camilla, and I still would. But I won’t hurt Kelly. The moment for the truth has passed, you know it as well as I. I have to think of my family now. Gina doesn’t even know who I am. I’m a stranger to her. To tell her the truth now wouldn’t be fair to her.?

  He stepped backwards, letting Camilla go. She didn’t resist, but stared blankly at him. ?And now I’m going to get your daughter out of the kitchen, and then I’m going to call the police. Okay?? Hearing his own confident, even footsteps ringing out beneath him, Jack was amazed at his exterior calm. Inside he was numb and twisting in the throes of dawning comprehension. Philip Grace was dead, and Camilla was going to go to prison. There was no get-out clause, no happily ever after.

  ?I love you,?Camilla whispered as he walked away, and Jack paused for a second, unable to turn back, feeling in that instant as if it were he who had been stabbed in the heart.

  ?I love you, too.?He wondered whether she noticed how his voice cracked with the words.

  When he came back out of the kitchen, leaving the awful scene behind him—although never to be left behind in his mind, it would live there forever—Camilla was sitting back down on the stairs, humming to herself, and nothing he said could rouse her. Gina was still crying, and getting no response from her mother. Jack pulled her close and

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  rocked her gently as they hugged. It was the first and last time he’d cuddled his eldest daughter.

  The memory tasting bitter in his mouth, Jack opened his eyes and felt the time that had passed from then till now settling in his joints. Robert Black’s words from the night before echoed in his head. Strange things at Syracousse. What had he called them? Gina things. He stood thinking for a few moments more, before turning the answering machine back on and picking up his car keys and coat. He knew where he needed to go. Somewhere he should have been before, but he’d been too busy running away. Well, he was too old for running now, and if the truth was on its way, then it was time to stand and face it.

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  The three of them had drunk their steaming coffee laced with brandy while Rob slowly retold the story of Teacher to Kelly—the real version this time—and then found the rest all coming out in the same dull monotone: Carrie, the judge, the computer, the last day of that summer, the Gina things. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d spoken, but the sip of coffee he took when he finished was cold and greasy.