Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (16 page)

Chapter 11

“You haven’t slept a wink. Are you sure you can drive?” Oliver examined her with a critical look on his face. He looked funny with his mussed hair and tired eyes, Freya thought. She wasn’t feeling too chipper either; her body complained at the lack of sleep, and even her coffee sat in her stomach like a lead brick.

“I’ll manage.”

“It’s over five hours to Glasgow.”

“Bam and I can take turns.”

“She can’t drive at the best of times, let alone without sleep.” Oliver frowned at her, and Freya fought a surge of annoyance.

“Ollie, we’ll be fine.”

“I could drive her.”

“No, I need you to oversee the builders. Besides, I think Bam could use a little girl time right now. I owe her that much. I feel bad enough for sending her away.”

“Are you actually sending her off?”

“Sort of. It’s… it’s just complicated.”

Her words froze him for a second, then he tilted his head and slid to the chair next to her around the breakfast table. “You’re not telling me something, Frey. We’ve never had secrets before.”

“Yes we have, you ninny.” She tried to laugh it off, but she wasn’t that good an actress.

“Not like this. What’s going on?” He leaned in, and she could smell the bitter mixture of coffee on morning breath. “Bam had a nightmare and suddenly she’s shipping off to LA?”

“It goes deeper than that, Ollie. I’m sure when Bam’s ready to tell you she will. But it’s not my place to talk about this with you.”

“But it’s bad though?”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s bad. And I think if Bam stays here, she’s going to keep having these panic attacks.”

“Do you believe she saw a ghost?”

“In a way, maybe. Not a real live ghost, but I think she’s being confronted by her own ghosts from the past. Add a house in the middle of nowhere, a lot of stress, and a dollop of creepy stories, and you have the recipe for a nervous breakdown.”

“Please don’t you go have one on me too, okay? I need you here.”

She looked at him over her coffee cup, one eyebrow raised and a sneer curled around her lips.

“I think I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“What’s Bam going to do with her car if you’re driving her?”

“She’s leaving it here. No sense in paying the parking costs, and she can’t take it with her. You can drive it if you like.”

Oliver couldn’t manage to keep the mild disgust off his face and Freya giggled into her coffee. A sound caught their attention and they turned to see Bam pulling her pink suitcase across the threshold into the kitchen.

“I didn’t get everything, but I have enough to keep me in clothes for a few weeks. I can buy stuff in LA too. I’m sure Mom will take me shopping if I ask her nicely.” She gave them a smile that didn’t reach her dark-encircled eyes.

Freya jumped to her feet and grabbed a cup from the counter. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Bam abandoned the case on the floor and squeezed in around the table. “I need caffeine. We might have to pick up a couple of cans of Red Bull on the way.”

“They make my heart explode,” Freya said with a hint of drama in her voice. Bam snorted into her coffee and rolled her eyes.

“You look better than you did last night.” Oliver grabbed Bam’s shoulder, and Freya noted a strange expression on her friend’s face when he touched her.

“I think I’m just relieved that I’m going away for a bit. I guess it’s just all too much for me right now.”

“You’ll be back though?” Oliver arched his eyebrows and gave Bam his best impression of puppy eyes, which made her giggle.

“As if I could stay away from you.” She punched him playfully in the shoulder.

Freya’s coffee cup made a hollow sound when she put it on the table. “We should get going soon. It’s a long drive and we still need to find a hotel.”

Bam held up her own half-filled cup. “Let me finish this and I’m ready to go.”

***

Logan woke to the sun shining through the thin, grey canvas of his tent. The night had been hot, despite being low to the ground. He had zipped open his sleeping bag hours ago, and was now lying on top of it wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers covered in printed pink lips – a present from an ex-girlfriend. The tent was stifling, his back and face sweat-soaked, and he decided he couldn’t wait until they moved into the house. Luckily, the East Wing had several showers the Chancers could use, and Logan intended to make good use of them that morning. He pulled a t-shirt and a pair of joggers from his rucksack and wrestled them across his limbs. His muscles were stiff from working, and he groaned when he crawled out of the tent and into the morning. He was pleasantly surprised to see most of the guys already up and about. John was handing out plastic cups of coffee that Oliver filled from a large thermos. He stretched his back and scratched his hair with a satisfied groan.

“Morning, Logan. Sleep well?” John handed him a cup, and Logan inhaled the aroma.

“It was a bit hot.”

“Aye, that it was.”

“Where’s Jim?”

“He’s looking for Mace and Farrow.”

“What do you mean looking for them?”

“They weren’t in their tents this morning.” There was a look of worry on the older man’s face. “I don’t mind Farrow not being there. The worst he would do is smoke a joint. It’s Mace I’m worried about. That kid is bad news.”

“Roger needs tough love.” Logan ran his hand through his hair and cursed inwardly. Roger had been a bit of a risk to bring along, and it hadn’t taken long for him to act up. Logan had hoped that by taking him away from his normal surroundings, he would behave a little better. “Is Terrence accounted for?” He scanned the young men and saw Terrence’s face sticking out from one of the tents.

“Aye, I’m glad to say that Jones and Mace aren’t up to their usual mischief. To be honest, I really think Terrence is trying to make something of himself here. I’m proud of the lad.”

Logan nodded in agreement. He too felt a certain glowing pride at the way Terrence had behaved during this project. So far, he had worked harder than all the other boys, and even his usual rowdy attitude seemed subdued. The only thing Logan worried about was the eyes he cast at the little blonde girl, but he could hardly blame the guy. Logan himself was having less than appropriate thoughts about the other female.

From a distance, he saw Jim approach, holding an unlit torch as if it were a weapon, his face expressing his dark mood.

“Find anything?”

“No sign of the buggers.” Jim’s forehead wrinkled, the wild hairs of his eyebrows making him look owlish. “I’m writing them up for this.”

“Yeah. They’ll be back though. I mean, where can they go?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t put it past them that they made it all the way to Portree or something, the daft little sods.” Jim shrugged. He looked tired.

“How long have you been looking?”

“An hour at least. I was up early and noticed they’d gone.”

Logan slapped the other man on the shoulder. “They’re bound to show up somewhere.”

“Aye, but meanwhile, we’re two men short.”

“We’ll manage.” He looked past the larger man and his eyes spotted Freya making her way out of the house with a pink suitcase, her blonde friend in tow. In a few strides, he reached her and took the case from her hands.

“Going somewhere?” To his pleasure, he saw a soft pink blush touch her cheeks, and she cast her eyes down.

“I’m taking Bam to Glasgow.”

“Day trip?”

“No, she’s going to catch a plane to Los Angeles.” Her eyes looked directly into his, and then she quickly looked away again. He saw something in them… a sadness.

“You’re not going with her, I hope?” He knew he was showing more of his feelings than he should, but he was curious to see her reaction. Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, almost a red colour, and the corners of her mouth twitched.

“No, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Good.” He lifted the pink suitcase onto his shoulder; the wheels would only slow him down on this uneven terrain. “I won’t have to hold your suitcase hostage then.” The other girl stepped up behind Freya, and Logan noticed the nudge she gave her. He walked ahead of them to Freya’s car and put the suitcase down.

“Thanks Logan, I appreciate it.” She smiled at him, and he imagined taking her cheeks in his hands and kissing those heart-shaped lips with all the passion he could muster.

“Drive safely,” was all he managed to say, and he saluted the girls with his fingertips. Then he turned and walked back towards Jim, who was writing notes on a clipboard, his face folded in a grumpy expression. When Mace and Farrow showed up, Jim would have some unpleasant chores for them. He looked over his partner’s shoulder at the retreating car, and he felt a pang of longing.

She’s only going for a day… why do you care?
he wondered.
She shouldn’t be leaving the house. She belongs here.
The voice in his head sounded unfamiliar, and the sound of it caused a chill to crawl down his spine.

Chapter 12

By the time they saw Glasgow’s church spires in the distance, Freya felt as if her stomach was trying to flip itself inside out. She’d been mildly nauseous when they’d left Angel Manor that morning, but as the day progressed, the feeling had only intensified, and she’d been tempted to stop the car several times. The idea of lying down in a hotel room and resting was the only thing that kept her going. Whatever she was suffering from, Bam wasn’t feeling well either, and Freya suspected that the lack of sleep wasn’t sitting well with either of them.

When she finally hauled the pink suitcase up the stairs of the cheap B&B, she was about ready to fall over.

“Maybe we need to eat something healthy.” Bam said, looking dubiously at the plastic bag that they’d used to dispose of the pastie and chocolate wrappers. They’d picked up food from petrol stations along the way, but the dry, sugary treats did nothing to improve their stomachs.

“Yeah, maybe. So, not going out for a curry then?” Freya quipped with a weak smile. She felt as if the saliva in her mouth had dried up, leaving her tongue rough and sandy. Something scratched the back of her throat, and her head throbbed. The thought of food was off-putting at best, but she agreed with Bam that maybe a healthy meal would make them feel better.

The room in the B&B felt oppressive and dark. There were two narrow beds on each side of the cramped space, a wine-red carpet with more than a few dark stains, and walls that were coated in snot-yellow flowers and dark green hummingbirds. A small window looking out onto a busy street let in a hint of light, but did nothing to dispel the sombre atmosphere. The two beds were covered with matching off-white counterpanes, their ruffles hanging to the floor. The room smelled of fabric softener.

“Well this is… um, quaint.” Freya tried to make her voice sound cheery, but in fact she just wanted to lie down and go to sleep.

“This place is horrible.”

“It’s just for tonight. Tomorrow, we’re going to get you your ticket, and then we’ll have you off to LA in no time.”

“I need to lie down. I feel like shit.” Bam flopped onto the left bed, her arms spread out. “That car ride was the worst.”

Freya inhaled deeply and fell down on the other bed. “It really was. Maybe just one nap, and then we can get some tea.”

“Yeah, just a nap.”

***

“You need to go back to the house.”

Freya blinked. She was sure she had only been asleep for a second, but when she opened her eyes, the sunlight from the little window had been replaced by darkness.

“Bam?” Her voice was hoarse and she sat up on the bed, trying to determine exactly where she was again. Bed and
Breakfast. She
knew that much, but why? Then the memories returned, a wave of nausea hit her, and her mind spun. Something pushed at her subconscious. There was something important that she was forgetting. Scraps of her dream returned to her, but not enough to remember clearly. Freya rested her head between her hands.
What am I supposed to remember?
Frustration pounded at her temples and she fought back the tears. An overwhelming sense of homesickness overtook her, and for the first time, she realised she had begun to think of Angel Manor as her home. She never thought she would, but the house had grown on her. She had made it her own. Once it was renovated, it would be free of the stigma that her crazy family had put on it, and it would be all hers. And here she was… in a strange hotel, while she could be home now. It wasn’t even a hotel, just a crappy bed and breakfast, miles away from the beautiful views of Lucifer Falls. Freya wanted more than anything to be home. The emotion was so strong she was having a physical reaction to it, and she had to jump up to make it to the tiny en-suite bathroom. Seconds later, she emptied a sour-tasting mixture of pasties, scotch eggs and chocolate into the murky white toilet bowl. She wretched with such power that her stomach stung with cramps.