It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) (2 page)

BOOK: It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries)
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Chapter Two

 

I’d
been dreaming. Someone was standing over me, watching me while I slept. It
wasn’t a reassuring-angel-watching-you kind of dream. It was a scary, some-lunatic-wants-to-kill-you
kind of dream.

I woke with a start.

The hair on my
arms and back of my neck stood on end as I sat up and had a good look around. Everything
was just the way I’d left it. Everything except the bedroom door. It was wide open,
swinging on its hinge. I knew I’d locked it before I got into bed. So why was
it open now?

I felt fear run
through me, ending its journey in my stomach, where it swirled around, mixed with
anxiety, and left me feeling sick. I looked out onto the darkness beyond the hallway.
I knew I’d left every light in the house burning.

Thankfully my
bedroom light was still on, so I reached for my phone and pulled back the
covers. My toes curling into the dirty carpet, I grabbed my handbag and quickly
looked through it for a weapon. I came up with a can of deodorant. Oh well,
it’s the best I was going to get right now. I shook the can and walked towards the
door, my heart pounding against my chest. What I really wanted to do was run. Run
through the door, down the stairs, out to my car and drive as far from here as
I could get. But I guess I should grow a set and deal with whatever opened that
door. The closer I crept, the harder my heart pounded.

With the dream
still lingering, I peeked into the hallway. It was dark except for the light
coming up the stairs. The staircase leading up to the attic looked darker than
ever. I really wished I’d turned the light on up there before going to bed.

I stood very
still, held my breath and strained to listen for any unfamiliar noise. Unfortunately—as
this was my first night in this old house—every noise was unfamiliar.

I couldn’t see
anything or anyone that shouldn’t be there, so I relaxed just a little bit. Not
too much though. I still needed to walk down the stairs to check the kitchen and
lounge. Shit, I hated this.

Hearing the
wind rattling the old windows, I wondered again why I hadn’t bought a brand new
house.

The stairs
creaked under my weight, alerting any intruder I was on my way. I also forgot
one of the treads was loose and nearly sped up my descent as it slipped when I
trod on it. Grabbing the railing I regained my balance, but not before a small
scream escaped my lips. Well, I guess I could cross
Spy
off my ideal career list.

 
“Hello! Is anybody there?” I yelled,
giving up on the creeping bit. I’m not really sure what I expected to get back.
I didn’t really think any intruder would jump out yelling “surprise!” but I’d
never been in this situation before, so who knew?

Waiting for
what felt like an eternity, the only response I got was the sound of the wind. I
continued making my way to the ground floor. Reaching the bottom stair I
paused. I didn’t know which way to turn. Should I check the kitchen or the
lounge first? I could see the lock on the front door was firmly in place, so
that was comforting, at least. I thought I should check the kitchen first. It contained
the only other exit.

I pushed myself
as close to the wall as possible and slowly peered around the corner. The light,
thankfully, was blazing. Well, blazing was a bit of an over-statement, but it
did give me enough light to see the room was empty and the back door was
closed. I walked over quickly to check the lock.

I let out a
breath knowing it was secure. Now all I had to do was check all the windows and
all the other rooms and I could go back to bed and back to sleep.

Taking a deep
breath, I entered the lounge. The only thing I found there was Cat snoring
loudly on the couch. He didn’t seem upset by anything so maybe my door was only
open because the house was old. Timber moved didn’t it?

Picking up Cat,
I walked back into the hall and checked the switch for the upstairs light. No
matter how many times I flicked it, it didn’t work. I guess the bulb had blown.

My heart rated
decreased.

Continuing my
rounds of the house I felt the loneliness creep in and threaten to smother me. Earlier
in the day I thought it was just because the house was unfamiliar but now I
feel like the house is watching me, letting me feel its sadness. I hugged Cat
closer to me as the lump sat in my throat and made my way back to bed, once
again shutting and locking the door behind me.

 

* * * *

 

I
did manage to doze just as the sun was rising but woke up with a start and let
out a scream as something big, ginger and fluffy jumped onto my chest.

Cat.

Sitting there,
yellow eyes staring into mine, he started to howl. Obviously it was breakfast
time.

Jumping up out
of bed and shaking myself off I looked back at Cat fighting the shaking
threatening to take over my body. The sun was streaming in through my open
curtains and even though I thought I had closed them last night, after the
dream and then my early morning search of the house, I wasn’t sure of anything
anymore.

Taking some
deep shuddery breaths I checked my alarm clock and saw it was already 6.20am. I
reached over and gave Cat a pat, noticing my hand was still shaking.

“You scared the
shit out of me,” I said, listening to it purr. I should pick it up and check
what type of privates it had and then give it an appropriate name. Maybe after
I’d had breakfast, I thought, as looking at a cat’s genitals was not something
you should do on an empty stomach. Deciding a shower would probably make me
feel much more human, I put my brave girl pants on, opened my bedroom door and
headed to the bathroom.

It wasn’t the
most pleasurable experience I’ve ever encountered, but after a quick finger
scrunch of the hair and a five-minute makeup routine, I dressed in jeans,
t-shirt and my very comfy flat shoes, and called my sister Molly to ask if she
would meet me in town to help me buy some furniture.

Of course she
would, she loved spending other people’s money.

 

* * * *

 

Ok,
I admit it. I wasn’t really paying as much attention to the road as I should
have been as I reversed out of my drive and only narrowly missed the black
sedan parked on the opposite side of the street. For some reason I just
couldn’t shake the dream and it had left me feeling anxious. I probably
shouldn’t have had the three cups of coffee either. Caffeine is not the best
thing to have when anxiety levels are high to start with. Slamming my foot on
the brake pedal, my handbag sailing off the seat, spilling all of its contents
on the floor, I put my hand to my heart as I felt the shot of adrenalin surge
through me.

Shit, that was close.

But seriously, what idiot parks there?

Swearing under
my breath, I put the car into forward and planted my foot, heading off in the
direction of the shops, thinking how I would have to be more careful.

By the time I
reached IKEA, my opinion had not changed. I really should have left my car at
home and caught the bus. It seemed to be every car on the road was out to get
me. Either that or it was just plain invisible. I’m positive that van was not
there when I indicated and changed lanes! I mean, how could I not have seen a van!

Reaching the
car park, I thought I was only minutes away from another coffee and free from
the car for a while, but boy was I wrong. As this was my first time to IKEA, I
will admit I was very naïve. First of all, I thought it would be easy to find a
park. Wrong! The car park maybe huge but so was the number of shoppers. After
driving around and around for what felt like years, I finally stalked some poor
elderly lady to her car and waited, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel,
while she slowly unloaded her trolley into her car and then slowly returned her
trolley to the trolley bay. At which point she slowly rummaged in her handbag
for God knows what before slowly reversing out of the park! By which time, my
foot and fingers were tapping a very fast beat. I was feeling pretty agitated
that if I didn’t get in there soon, not only would I miss my coffee but Molly
would have bought me everything in the damned shop.

I don’t know
whether or not you’ve had the pleasure of shopping at IKEA. If you have you will
understand my amazement and if you haven’t, this will prepare you for when you
do. Yes, this place was awesome, but it was also a bit daunting to the
uninitiated. Upon entering the store I looked around and realized it was like a
maze, and as Molly was already ahead of me I feared for my credit rating, took
a deep breath and followed the path around the store, being totally mesmerized
as I went. I eventually found Molly with a trolley that already seemed to be
full.

Well I guess I
could hardly blame her.

“Molly, do I
really need all this stuff?” I asked, unwilling to show her I actually
understood her enthusiasm. She turned and glared at me. Today she was dressed
in a very tight fitting dress and had her long dark hair piled on top of her
head so nothing obstructed the view of what was concealed inside her Victoria’s
Secrets.

“Well hello to
you too, Lizzie.”

“Sorry. Hello
Molly. But what is all this stuff?” I asked, my voice rising into the
stratosphere.

“It’s
necessities, Lizzie,” she said, placing her hand on her hip and raising one
eyebrow, almost daring me to argue with her. “Are you questioning my ability as
a house wife?” she asked.

“Molly, you’re
a photographer who lives alone and who doesn’t know how to cook. Of course I’m
questioning your abilities as a house wife.” Maybe I should have called my
brother Danny for help instead.

“I will have
you know I am very capable of looking after myself. And of course you need all
of this. I mean, just look at this really cute bowl,” she held up a stripy red
cat bowl. “How could you possibly own a cat and not allow him to eat out of
something so cute?”

“Well, he
didn’t seem to mind the old Chinese container I fed him with this morning,” I
huffed. This was easy for her. It was not her budget she was spending.

Sniffing
indignantly, she turned her back on me and marched to the next section of the
store, leaving the trolley for me to push. I could almost feel her rolling her
eyes, even from back here.

By the time we
reached the registers, I was only narrowly avoiding a breakdown. It was with
shaking hands and unsteady breathing that I handed over my credit card and
asked for all the big stuff to be delivered, putting all the smaller stuff back
in the trolley, ready for me to take home.

“Molly, I
really need a drink,” I said, my voice betraying my sudden fatigue.

“There’s a
coffee shop over there,” she said pointing towards a large food court.

“No, I need a
real drink. Caffeine just isn’t cutting it today.”

Laughing, Molly
walked ahead of me as I was left to push the huge shopping cart through the
crowds of people milling around.

“I’m not
joking!” I called after her. “Remind me to come alone next time,” I sulked,
speaking to myself, as Molly was way ahead of me already. Molly walks with an
air of authority and somehow the crowd just parts as she approaches, so it was
no surprise that by the time I caught up, (sadly, I did not inherit her ability
to part the seas) she was already seated.

“Thanks for
waiting for me,” I moaned as I sat down.

“What? And miss
out on a table. Snoozers are losers, Lizzie.”

“Christ Molly,
have a bit of sympathy! My back is killing me from all the cleaning I did
yesterday. I thought holidays left you feeling refreshed and relaxed, not sore
and cranky,” I said, rubbing the knots out of my shoulders.

“You know, you
would think you would be grateful for my help. But all you’ve done since you
got here is wine. What the hell is the matter with you today?”

“I’m sorry,” I
grouched. “I’m just tired. I had a really bad night’s sleep last night. I swear
that house is watching me. If houses had feelings I’d say this one is
depressed,” I said thoughtfully. I could see Molly roll her eyes but her tone
softened.

“Lizzie, houses
do not have feelings. You just have an over active imagination,” she sighed. “Anyway,
how long are you on holidays for?”

“Two weeks. But
as I’m working from home now it won’t feel like I’m really going back to work
at all.” This was a very scary thought. Looking at the attic this morning, I
doubted my ability to get it finished in time. “That I’m excited about it. I
won’t have to make the trip into the city every day and I’m not really going to
miss the people there. Scott can keep me up to date on the gossip.” Scott is my
boyfriend. He’s not the perfect boyfriend but he is mine. “Plus, I get to work
my own hours and best of all I won’t have to attend those stupid bloody
leadership days our Boss is always organizing,” I said with a smile. This last
thought totally energized me and I could feel my irritability start to fade.

“Two weeks
isn’t much time to get your office organized. Have you found a cute handyman to
help you yet?” she asked, grinning.

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