The House of Wood Page 3

  “I feel like a walk.”

  Rachel had begun walking away over the windswept cemetery before she had even finished her sentence. Her arms hugged her tight, as she walked head down, back to the sleepy little town. The rain was beginning to pour now. Her umbrella sprung into action. Everything was so hard being back home. There was so much anger and frustration that she thought she had buried, sprouting to the surface like dead flowers coming back to life. She knew it was out there, looming in the distance. There was just no way to block the thought of it from her mind, not now that she knew it had survived the fire.

  “Hey gorgeous, need a ride?”

  The familiar voice startled her. She stopped in her tracks not realising that she had already made it to the outskirts of town. She turned to look at the car.

  “Hey Rach, you alright?”

  “Nathan, what’re you doing here?”

  “Ummm, I live here. Remember?” Nathan chuckled. His warm, dark brown eyes, smiled at her.

  “I just thought you would’ve been long gone by now?

  “Nah,” Nathan, replied looking straight ahead. “I’ll be here until they build a monument dedicated to me.”

  Rachel returned the laugh. “Well you’re one person I didn’t expect to see.”

  “I could say the same about you?” Nathan’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry to hear about your folks.”

  She dropped her eyes to the floor. “So am I.”

  There was a moments silence before she spoke. “So, what do you do these days?”

  “I pick up young, drenched women off the street.” His boyish grin had returned. “I’m a deputy sheriff now.”

  “Oh wow, followed your Pa’s footsteps then?”

  “Yeah, it was a natural progression.” There was another awkward silence. The rain was pouring now. “So, where’re you headin’? I can give you a lift.”

  “Oh, ummm, it’s okay, I could do with the walk.”

  “Hey, it’s a torrent out here. Nobody likes getting wet. Hop in.”

  Rachel lowered her umbrella and did as she was told. It was just like old times, as the two drove off in to the rain.

  ***

  Sad faces filled the reception room of the bed and breakfast, as the guests reminisced about the past and the tragic circumstances under which Mr and Mrs James lost their lives. Could’ve happened to anyone; they’ll be missed; it’s such a loss. Rachel did her best to be the perfect host, keeping herself busy by carrying around platters of food and making sure people had coffee, or in some cases, wine. She knew they were talking about her. Gossiping about what happened. Seeing Nathan after her years of self-imposed exile had lifted her spirits a little. He had been very fortunate.

  She looked out over the gathering, searching for him. Thin, wispy grey clouds hung over the heads of the smokers like haunting spectres. A shudder crept up her spine, as she remembered the smell from that night. Fire seemed to be a constant in her life. Now it had killed her parents.

  “You alright, Rach?” Nathan asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “You’ve gone really pale.”

  “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Have you now?” he replied, a slight rising of his eyebrows pulling his face in to a cheeky grin. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “Take me away from here,” she replied staring at nothing in particular.

  “Not enjoying being back in sunny Willows Peak then?”

  “I’d rather be anywhere, but here.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Nathan replied, taking a sip from his coffee. “Not after what you went through.”

  Rachel shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t you start.”

  The two of them stood for a few moments just watching the crowd. Light filtered through the net curtains of the rear windows. Rachel could see Becky talking to Mr and Mrs Phelps in one corner of the room. Every now and then she would look up, giving Rachel a look as if to say, are you okay? Each time, Rachel replied with a smile that said, I’m fine. But she wasn’t. Far from it. She could feel the tension rising in her like a crescendo of a chaotic, classical piece. Every time she tried to force it down, it came back with a vengeance.

  “I am sorry you know,” Nathan said, breaking through the silence that had built up like a wall between them.

  Rachel hadn’t even remembered he was there. “Sorry? For what?”

  “For not being there that night. If I had, maybe I could’ve stopped him.”

  She didn’t get a chance to reply. Two of her parent’s friends were heading straight for them. They greeted her with open arms. Fake sympathy.

  “Oh Rachel dear, you must be simply distraught. Such a tragic loss.”

  The smell of cigarettes and wine filled Rachel’s nostrils, as Mrs Krupp leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

  “Your Daddy’ll be a big loss down at the golf course,” Mr Krupp added, placing himself behind his wife.

  “Thank you.”

  “Have the police found the cause of the fire yet?” Mrs Krupp asked, aiming the question at Nathan.

  “The official line is that it was faulty wiring,” he looked at Rachel. “But the investigation isn’t quite finished yet.”

  Mrs Krupp took Rachel by the hand. “You poor thing, having to deal with all this on top of everything that happened to you here. Jack and I feel you’re so brave coming back.”

  The tension was rising in her again. “Stop.”

  “The horrendous time you had,” Mrs Krupp continued. “They never did find the bodies.”

  “Please stop.” Her body was shaking. Becky was trying to force her way through the oblivious mourners.

  “Poor kids. Although I never did like that Chelsea.”

  The words were drilling in to her pounding head.

  “I think Rachel’s had enough, Mrs Krupp. It’s been a long day,” Nathan butted in.

  But she was in full flow now. “Such a nice boy, who’d have thought he

  could -“

  “For God’s sake, shut up,” Rachel screamed. The room stopped dead, as if someone had flicked a switch. “Just shut up. I know the bodies weren’t found. Chelsea was my best friend, do you think I’d ever forget what he did.” She was shrieking now. Mrs Krupp stood there as if she had been shot. “He wasn’t a nice boy, he was the devil. He took everything from me. My friends, my home, almost my sanity. Everything. So, I left, hoping to forget. Forget him, forget this hell hole. Instead, I find the house rebuilt and everyone treating me like a freak with a disease.” The tears finally broke. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my parents.”

  She made a bolt for the stairs. Condemning eyes bored in to her, as she fled the now silent room. She wanted to get out, get away from people. She wanted to hide herself somewhere and disappear.

  “Hey, Rach, wait. Come back,” Becky called after her.

  Rachel just ignored her friend and continued running up the stairs to their room.

  ***

  Rachel didn’t know how long she had been sobbing on the bed; the pillow case was soaked through. The light in the room had dimmed, as the sun made its way around to the back of the building. Nobody had bothered to come up and check to see if she was alright. In a way, she was glad of that.

  She sat up. The constant droning of conversation buzzed through the floor from downstairs. In her hand was the last happy memory she had of her parents. Her raw eyes stared hard at the graduation photo. It had been a bright, sun-filled day that had culminated in a huge party. She could remember being filled with giggles, as she had stumbled home with Chelsea at two in the morning, blind drunk. At the time Rachel had hated them for grounding her. But now she could see it was out of love. It was funny, she thought, how old resentments got buried along with the dead. She’d give anything for them to ground her now; take away her credit cards, her car. Anything.

  Tears dropped off her cheeks and landed with a faint tap on the shiny surface of the photo. A knock at the door startled her
. It was probably Becky come to check on her, she realised.

  “Come in,” she said, wiping her eyes. The door opened.

  “I’m sorry, I was passing and heard crying. Are you alright?”

  It was a man poking his head around the door. One she didn’t know. Rubbing away the tears, she made herself look more presentable. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “No offence, but you don’t look it.”

  Who is this guy? Rachel wondered. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

  “No I don’t think so,” the head replied. “I’m pretty new in town.”

  The man was nothing special, but attractive enough. He had a full head of mousy brown hair sitting on top of a pale, boyish face. “So, what’s up?”

  Rachel had never been in the habit of telling complete strangers her problems, but something in the man’s deep eyes made her want to open up, pour her heart out in an attempt to cleanse the demons inside her. “It’s nothing really,” she said, putting aside the photo. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Sorry, the name’s David. Doctor David Cochrane.”

  “Rachel, Rachel James.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Rachel.”

  She had never felt so awkward in her life. Here was this stranger, beaming at her, and she looked an absolute mess.

  “You still haven’t told me what the tears are for? By the way, you don’t know what the shindig downstairs is, do you?”

  The tears almost started again. “Yeah,” she said, lowering her eyes. “It’s my parent’s wake.”

  “Ah, way to go, David. Excuse me, while I remove my foot from my mouth.”

  David mimed pulling a shoe from his mouth. The laughter it caused scared away any more tears.

  “My sympathies,” he said, a gentle smile forming on his lips.

  “Thank you.”

  Rachel found herself increasingly attracted to the man standing in the doorway. There was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. He had an easy manner. Maybe it was because he was a doctor? She mused. It was as if a dark cloud had been lifted. She had almost forgotten there was a wake going on downstairs.

  “So, doctor huh?”

  “Psychology. I haven’t long finished my four year residency. Hence the B&B.”

  “Ah, I see. Have you been in town long?” she asked, wanting to know more about the stranger.

  “No, not really,” he replied. “Barely over a month.”

  “Wow, that long. And you haven’t run for the hills?”

  David chuckled at her feeble joke. “Nope. I kinda like it. How long have you lived here?”

  “This is where I was born.” The dark cloud had begun to descend again. “I’m just back in town for a while. Until everything is sorted.”

  A painful silence entered the room, like a morbid presence. A spectre of the past.

  “You’ll probably say no, but if you’re going to be in town for a while, maybe we could have a chat sometime?” His cheeks had turned a deep red. “Professional of course.”

  Rachel found his shyness cute. She wanted to say yes. “I think I’m only going to be in town a couple more days.”

  “That’s plenty of time.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can.”

  Out the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a familiar look flash across his face. But as soon as it was there, it was gone. It must’ve been her imagination, she realised. Maybe it was disappointment?

  “Well if you change your mind.” David pulled out a business card and placed it on a small table by the door.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m not much of a talker, so I’d be wasting your time,” she replied, trying to sound sympathetic. “Thank you though.”

  David laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I hope everything works out for you.”

  A slight shuffle behind him drew both their attentions. Becky slotted past and walked in, Nathan not far behind.

  “Oh sorry, didn’t realise you had company,” Becky said with a look of surprise on her face.

  “That’s okay, I was just leaving.” David turned to Rachel with a smile. “Take care.”

  She felt a pang of regret hit her, as he left the room. She spotted Nathan giving him the evil eye.

  “What was he doing here?” Nathan asked.

  “Nothing, he was just passing by. He knocked on the door. Any objections?”

  “I don’t trust him, that’s all.”

  “Wait. Who is he? Why don’t you trust him?” Becky asked, her head snapping side to side, as she looked at each of them in turn.

  “His name’s David,” Rachel replied, before Nathan had a chance to pipe up. “He’s a doctor, well psychiatrist, and he’s very sweet.” She glared at Nathan.

  “If he’s a doctor, why is he living here?”

  It was a valid question, she thought. “I don’t know, maybe he’s not found a place of his own.” There was a more pressing question ricocheting around her mind. “Why are you so against him?”

  “I just am. There’s something about him. Call it deputy’s instinct.”

  “Well I like him.”

  The trio sat in silence. Rachel was beginning to grow tired of the constant awkward tensions that kept growing between her and other people. “I see you two have met.” She hoped to change the subject.

  “Yeah, Nathan introduced himself after you…” Becky let the sentence trail off. “Anyway, tell me more about this doctor.”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” Rachel replied. “He asked if I needed someone to talk to.”

  “Rachel, I’ve got to get back on duty,” Nathan butted in. “Maybe I’ll come back later.”

  “Oh, okay. It was so good to see you again.”

  “Yeah, and you,” he replied. “Take it easy.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving the two girls alone in the room.

  “What’s up with him?” Becky asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rachel replied, puzzled. It was really unlike him to act like a jerk, she thought, her head racing with so many new emotions. He had always been so sweet and shy when they had been friends in high school. How time changes people, she realised.

  A yawn erupted from her. She felt as though she could sleep for a week.

  “It’s been a long day,” Becky remarked.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “There aren’t many people left, just a few after more free wine. Shall we get back to them?”

  “I suppose I should. I feel like such an idiot.”

  “Don’t worry about it. No one noticed.”

  Rachel let out a small laugh. “Thank you for all this.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Becky replied. She bounced off the bed. “Right, let’s get back then.”

  “Just give me a sec.”

  “Okay.”

  Becky pulled the door to, as she left. Rachel took one last look at the memory she held in her hand. That summer would live with her for the rest of her life. She folded the photo and placed it back in her purse, trying as hard as she could to block out the memories.

  Chapter Four

  The rain hit the black surface of Rachel’s umbrella like rapid artillery fire. Tap, tap, tap. The cloud coverage was so thick, the warm rays of the dawn sun couldn’t force their way through. It felt like night rather than day. A cold wind battered against her, whipping around her legs. It made the going hard. She had the feeling as though it was trying to drive her back on purpose, to stop her reaching her destination. Maybe it was? She thought. But it wouldn’t work. Lowering her head in to the collar of her thick jacket, she pushed on.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been walking. Her feet had just led the way; first through the rain soaked streets, then out over the sweeping fields, along the hard shoulder of the highway. Time just seemed to slip past as she walked. It didn't seem to matter how long she had been gone, or how far outside the town she was, she knew her feet would take her somewhere.

  Her
mind moved forward and backwards between the past and present, trying to weigh up which one was worse. Every now and then, a car would stream past her in a hazy blur, spitting rain water up behind it. But even though her eyes perceived it, she paid no attention. In the back of her mind, she knew where she was heading and screamed at herself to stop, but she just walked, stuck in a dream from which she couldn’t escape.

  Before long, the road began to incline upwards, the grey sky melding with grey treetops, looming larger with every step. Within the next five minutes, it would be there, she thought, as she climbed higher up the hillside. Its pointed roof would stick out above the ridge line, stretching upwards, jagged and dangerous, like a knife jutting into the heavens.

  Her steps were slow. Her breathing shallower than it had been before. The constant drumbeat of blood in her ears was like a marching song, edging her ever closer. She lowered her umbrella and grasped at her hands in an attempt to stop them shaking. This is a bad idea, she thought, still moving forwards, never stopping. Her mind screamed at her to turn back, to go into town and forget about this stupid need that had pounced on her during the fluid waking moments of the dawn. There was some glimmer of false hope buried deep down inside her, pushing her on. Maybe she had made a mistake? Maybe it was just a similar looking place? This was a small town; a lot of the buildings looked the same, especially the farmhouses. Over and over again she tried to convince herself that she had been wrong. Nobody would ever want to rebuild that thing. And houses couldn't just rebuild themselves. Could they?

  Looking up, she realised she had already reached the top of the hill. The air stuck in her throat like a piece of hard food, as she inhaled sharply.

  It was there. The house of wood, renovated to its former glory. Gone was the flaky paint and rotten wood of the porch, replaced by a bright white coat stretching along its walls. The wooden steps leading up to the front door were now perfectly square wooden planks, rather than rough, crooked teeth. The windows were no longer encrusted with years of dirt and grime. It was all a façade. Still they looked out over the countryside like malevolent eyes, dark and dreary, as if it was watching for something, waiting like a coiled cobra for a time when it could strike again. The long shadow cast over her felt frigid and desolate. No amount of cleaning, or decorating, could remove the unwholesome stain that the building had left on the surrounding area. On her own psyche.