Sweet Damage

Also by Rebecca James
Beautiful Malice

REBECCA
JAMES

First published in 2013

Copyright © Rebecca James, 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian
Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone:   (61 2) 8425 0100
Email:    [email protected]
Web:      
www.allenandunwin.com

A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the
National Library of Australia
www.trove.nla.gov.au

ISBN 978 1 74237 301 0

Cover and text design by Kirby Armstrong
Cover photo by B2M Productions
Set in 12/18 pt Dante MT by Midland Typesetters, Australia

Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

For Charlie

I
STILL DREAM ABOUT
F
AIRVIEW
.

In my dreams the house is more than it was in life; the building taller and more imposing, the hallways longer and more labyrinthine, the inside colder and darker than the real thing ever was. In my dreams Fairview is a maze of dark passages and shadows, steep staircases that twist and turn in nightmarish knots. I run through the house in a panic, never knowing whether I'm chasing or being chased, trying to escape or wanting to be found. All I know is that a scream echoes loudly through my head – a scream prompted by what I'm about to discover, what I know I'm going to see around the next corner, or the next.

Anna is sometimes in these dreams, lingering, ghostlike and elusive, ahead of or behind me. No matter how much I chase her or call her name, I can never reach her. She'll appear for a moment, smiling, her arm reaching towards me, only to disappear around a bend, or into a shadow, like an illusion or an apparition. A wisp of smoke, dissolving into air.

In my dreams it's as if the house itself has sinister intentions, as if its very foundations contain a malign force that seeps into the floors and walls and contaminates the air within, changing the lives of all who enter.

In real life, though, it wasn't Fairview that was responsible for what happened. It was the people who did the damage.

CONTENTS

PART 1

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

PART 2

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PART 1

1

‘T
IM
,
YOU
'
RE GOING TO HAVE TO GROW UP
,' L
ILLA SAYS
. ‘G
ET A
real job.'

‘I do have a real job,' I say. ‘I go to work. I do stuff. I get paid for it. Seems real enough to me.'

‘Okay.' She sighs. ‘Maybe real's the wrong word. You need a more sustainable job. One that will at least cover your rent and food. A job that means you can be independent.'

‘What you're really saying—' I raise my eyebrows at her. ‘Is hurry up and move out.'

‘Yeah.' She shrugs. ‘Since you mention it, you can't stay here forever. Sleeping on my couch isn't exactly a viable long-term plan. Not with Patrick here.' She reaches across the coffee table and grabs her laptop, opens it on her knees. ‘And if you refuse to get a proper, I mean, a more
lucrative
job, we're just going to have to find you some kind of dirt cheap alternative.'

I close my eyes and hope that she'll get distracted. Stop trying to fix my life. I know I have to sort myself out and I fully intend to. Just not today.

After a moment she elbows me. ‘Listen to this one. It actually sounds quite good. And it's in Fairlight.' She reads aloud: ‘
Large furnished room in spacious house. Share with one other. One hundred dollars a week.
A hundred bucks, Tim. Cheap
as
.'

When I don't reply, she turns, nudges me again. ‘Are you going to call or what?'

‘Must be a dump,' I say grumpily. ‘Mould. Rats. I can imagine it.'

‘You have no money, Tim,' she says. ‘You'll just have to take what you can get. Dump or not.'

She picks up my phone, stabs numbers into it. ‘Come on.' She pushes the phone against my ear so I'm forced to take it. ‘Just ask. It can't hurt. Stop being such a loser.'

Some bloke called Marcus answers and we exchange information. He asks me how old I am, if I'm employed and whether I'm willing to take a trip to Fairlight to see the room and meet my potential housemate, a girl called Anna. I wonder why Anna isn't taking the call herself. He gives me the address and I tell him that I'll head up there later this afternoon.

‘Can I just ask one question?' I say before I hang up.

‘Of course,' says Marcus.

‘Why's it so cheap? What's the story?'

Lilla elbows me, makes a face. I ignore her.

‘It's a large house,' Marcus says in a smooth tone. ‘Very large. Too big, really, for one girl to live in all alone. You'll understand what I mean when you see it. And Anna's only twenty. It would be helpful to have someone around. That's all I want to say over the phone. If you meet me up at the house we'll be able to tell you more in person. But rest assured, there's nothing to worry about. The conditions are very reasonable.'

Conditions. The word has an ominous ring to it. I wonder why the room hasn't been taken and conclude that the ‘conditions' can't be as reasonable as Marcus promises. There must be some kind of catch. If something seems too good to be true, it's usually because it is.

*

Though I'm suspicious of the insanely low price, I decide to go and take a look. Lilla's boyfriend, Patrick, comes home, and the air of hostility that seeps off him is almost as thick as the stench of his aftershave. Suddenly the space feels far too small. Lilla's right. I have to find somewhere else to live. I jog downstairs and out into the burning heat, just in time to catch the next bus to Fairlight.

The house is enormous. Built of sandstone and brick, it stands two storeys high and is the biggest and most impressive house in a street full of pretty flash houses. It's the kind of place you can't help but notice as you drive or walk by. The kind of house that makes you wonder about the people who live there. It's surrounded by lush green gardens, big lawns and beautiful trees and is so unexpectedly grand that I wonder if I've made a mistake. It even has a name.
Fairview
is engraved in fancy writing across a sign on the front gate.

I double-check the address. It's definitely the right place, and most definitely not the dump I expected to find.

The front door opens as I'm walking up the path, but it's so bright outside and so dark in the house, I can't immediately see who has opened it. When I reach the top of the steps I find a man waiting in the doorway. He's neatly dressed in a shirt and pants and he looks me up and down as I approach. I'm scruffy in my shorts and T-shirt, and for a moment I consider apologising, until I remember that I'm looking for a place to live, not applying for a job.