The Nurse (11 page)

“Never let him come back into the house,” Mum whispers from nearby. I turn, but I'm not entirely sure where she's standing. “Do you understand?” she continues. “You're not to invite anyone inside, not under any circumstances.”

“Where are you?” I ask. “Were you hiding from him?”

“Don't ask dumb questions.”

“There's nothing wrong with Aidan!” I continue, shocked by the hint of suspicion in her voice. “Mum, what's going on? Were you in the house all along tonight? Were you there when I was...”

I pause, feeling as if my mind is racing.

“Mum -”

“Come through to the front room,” she mutters darkly, and a moment later I hear her walking away. “You don't need my help. Come on, move your ass. You know the way by now.”

I hesitate for a few seconds, before realizing that I don't really have a choice. Holding my hands out to ensure that I don't bump into anything, I start making my way carefully to the front room. I can already hear Mum pacing about, as if she's anxious about something. I desperately want her to explain what's happening, but I'm not entirely sure that I know the right questions to ask.

“Why are you so against Aidan?” I try finally, stopping in the doorway. “Mum? You're acting weird. What's wrong with you?”

I wait.

No reply.

“Mum?” I call after her. “Why won't you tell me the truth?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Alice - Twenty years ago

“You could never have a family,” Father sneers as I finish checking the machine next to his bed. “Do you hear me? No man would ever touch you. The only way you could have a child is if you stole one!”

“Everything's looking good here,” I reply, trying to ignore his latest barbs. I feel very calm now that I've decided what I have to do, and the last thing I want is for him to unsettle me again. “Are you in any discomfort?”

“You're a miserable failure,” he continues, his upper lip curling a little as if the sight of me fills him with disgust. “I honestly don't know how I raised such a pathetic excuse for a daughter. Your brother turned out just fine, he's a doctor, but you? You were just a waste of time.”

“Well,” I reply as I turn and head out of the room, “I'm sure that gives you a lot to think about. Perhaps you'll even come up with a few ideas soon.”

He calls after me, but this time I don't even listen. Instead, I walk calmly down the stairs and into the kitchen, and then I sit at the table.

The pills are still laid out in front of me, along with a knife. On the other side of the table, little Anthony Harper is still watching me with those awful, dark eyes.

“Are you finally brave enough to do it?” he asks.

“I am,” I reply, feeling a tightening sense of anticipation in my chest, “but not quite the way you're expecting. I've thought it over, and I believe death would be too easy for me. Too quick. I deserve a longer punishment.”

“You deserve pain,” he says firmly. “I won't ever leave you alone. I want to watch you die.”

“I understand that,” I continue, forcing a smile even though there are tears in my eyes, “and that's why I've come up with something else. Something that I think will satisfy you and make you go away forever. I just want you to leave me alone...”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rachel - Today

“You are
never
to invite that boy into this house again!” Mum yells, pacing past me and then slamming something against the table. Whatever it is, it's something hard and heavy. “I can't
believe
you let him through the door!”

“I'm sorry,” I reply, genuinely shocked by the anger in her voice, “but -”

“After everything we've done over the past few years,” she continues, making her way around the sofa, “and all the work that we've had to put in, how could you jeopardize it all for some dumb boy?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “We're just -”

“You don't get it!” she sneers, and now she's coming closer again, approaching my right side. “You're too stupid and naive to understand what's at stake here! It took so long to get back to this house!”

“Get
back
?” I ask. “Mum, what -”

“It's just for us,” she adds, and suddenly she's on my left side. I don't get how she's moving around me so fast, but I can feel her breath against my neck. “It only works if we keep everyone else out! I thought you understood that, you dumb bitch! I thought you knew how much I've sacrificed for us! How much
we've
sacrificed, for each other!”

“I know you work hard, but -”

“It's not about working hard!” she yells.

I step away, startled by how loud she just shouted.

“You
really
don't get it, do you?” she continues, her voice dripping with anger, maybe even contempt. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do I have to spell everything out?”

“Mum -”

“You're driving me crazy!” she hisses, and suddenly she steps closer.

Before I can react, she shoves me, sending my stumbling back until I bump against the wall. Too shocked to say anything, I listen to the sound of her stepping toward me. I flinch as she gets closer.

“Mum, please -”

“Twenty years!” she yells. “Do you know what it's like to wait twenty years for one chance?”

“Mum -”

“And you want to jeopardize it all for some stupid neighborhood boy? He's not going to want to touch you, anyway! What the hell would he want with a blind girl with a fucked-up face?”

“Mum, I just -”

Suddenly she grabs my throat, forcing me down until I let out a gasp and slip to the floor. She lets go, but I can tell she's still towering over me. I've never known her to get this mad before, and I feel as if somehow I've accidentally unlocked a hidden side of her personality. I want to get back up off the floor, but I'm pretty sure she'd just push me back down. Struggling for breath, I wait for her to make her next move.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asks finally.

“What... What do you mean?” I stammer.

“I thought we were on the same page,” she continues. “I thought you understood.”

“You keep saying that,” I reply, slowly starting to get up, “but -”

“Stay down there.”

I pause, trying to work out what's wrong with her.

“What did he tell you?” she asks.

“Who?”

“That boy. The one from next door. Did he talk to you about the house?”

I hesitate for a moment, as I feel a growing sense of fear starting to ripple up from my gut to my chest.

“It's a straightforward question,” she continues. “What did he say? Did he talk about the people who used to live here?”

“He told me about the woman,” I reply. “The nurse. She... I think her name was -”

“And what did he say about her?”

“He said that some bad things happened. Her father... It was to do with her father, wasn't it?”

I wait, but now she seems to have fallen silent again.

“She killed him,” I continue, trying to choose my words with care. I wish I could see Mum's face right now, to see how she's reacting. “And her brother too. That's what Aidan said, anyway. He said she killed them both and then she was dragged off to some kind of psychiatric hospital.”

Again, I wait.

Again, silence.

“Why are you so mad at me?” I ask finally. “I thought you'd be
pleased
that I started talking to people. Do you want me to just stay locked away in the house for the rest of my life? I mean,
so what
if I found out that the woman who lived her before us was some kind of murderous psycho bitch? It doesn't really matter, does it?”

No reply.

“
Does
it?” I ask again.

“You don't understand,” she replies, and now she sounds far less angry. A moment later, I hear a rustling sound, and I realize she's crouching in front of me. “If only everything was so easy.”

“Please, Mum,” I whimper, hoping that she might finally tell me the truth. “I don't understand what's going on. You've been lying to me, though. I figured
that
part out. You haven't really been going out to work at night. And I...”

I pause for a moment, wondering just how much I should admit.

“I think strange things are happening in this house. I've heard things, and felt things, and something just seems really wrong. Like, majorly wrong, deep inside, and...”

My voice trails off.

“Mum?”

“I thought I could protect you from the truth,” she replies, sounding sad now. “You can't blame me for that. I was worried about what would happen if you realized what was really going on here. I promised to protect you all those years ago. Do you remember that? I swore I'd keep you safe.”

“Because I'm too young?” I ask. “Is that it? You think I'm too much of a dumb little kid to understand bad things?”

“Too young?”

“Is that why you've been protecting me? Because you don't need to. Whatever it is, I promise I can handle the truth.”

She pauses.

“Too
young
?” she asks again. “Oh... You poor thing. Don't you realize who you are yet?”

I freeze, feeling a flash of pain in my chest.

“Get away from me!” I shout, suddenly filled with a sense of pure fear.

“Rachel -”

“Leave me alone!” I scream. “Don't say another word!”

“Rachel, it's time to remember.”

I open my mouth to ask what she means, but after a moment I understand what I have to do. There's one thing I've been avoiding ever since we came home. I reach up with my trembling right hand and place it on the side of my face. Immediately, I realize that my flesh isn't young and smooth as I'd expected; instead, it's old and leathery, and heavily wrinkled in places. Moving my hand further up, I run my fingers around the edge of my scarred eyes and onto my forehead, where I find that my brow has deep creases running from one temple to the other.

“Oh you poor, wretched thing,” Mum's voice whispers, suddenly sounding as if she's all around me. “Exactly how old do you think you are?”

Chapter Thirty

Alice - Twenty years ago

The pain is intense, but I know I can't stop. Not until the task is complete.

Letting out a gasp, I lean forward as the tip of the knife's blade slices through my left eyeball. Blood is flowing down my face and spattering onto the bare dining room table, and after a moment I feel the metal tip scraping against bone at the back of the socket. I had supposed that I might have to entirely gouge the eyeball out, but now I realize that the damage is already done, so I carefully pull the knife out and stare with my remaining eye at the blood on the blade.

One down, one to go.

“Do you think this will get rid of me?” Anthony sneers, still sitting on the other side of the table. “Are you so stupid? Do you think that if you can't see me, I'll be gone? Do you think the guilt will be gone?”

“I have to do
something
!” I gasp. “You're always there, always watching me. I can't stand to see you anymore.”

“You'll still be able to hear me. I'll make sure of that.”

I stare at him one final time, before slowly driving the blade into my right eye. I feel a vast, rupturing pain as more blood runs down my face, but at least now everything is dark and I can focus on slowly turning the knife and making sure that the eye has been completely ruined. My hands are still remarkably steady and calm, and I'm rather surprised that I've been able to contain my screams thus far.

I'm sweating, though.

I'm sweating a lot.

Lowering the knife, I sit completely still at the table, focusing on the need to block out as much pain as possible. After all, I still need to remove what's left of my eyeballs, so as to avoid them rotting and potentially causing an infection. It's good to focus on practicalities, to keep the mind from wandering. Fortunately, I have plenty of pairs of tweezers, along with antiseptic lotions and stitches, and I feel certain I can sew the two wounds shut again. I might not be the greatest nurse in the world, but I can patch myself up.

“I'm still here,” Anthony says, and he sounds much closer now, as if he rose from his chair and has come around to join me on this side of the table. “I told you I wouldn't leave you alone.”

Ignoring him, I reach over and grab a towel, which I use to dab my blood-soaked face. My hands are starting to tremble now, just a little, which I guess means that I'm slowly losing control. Soon I might be a sobbing, screaming wreck, so I need to get my ruined eyes cleaned and sewn shut while I'm still able. The lotion will sting, I'm sure of that, but pain is the least of my concerns. I let out a faint, unintentional whimper as I reach over and grab the bottle, but I know I've done the right thing. At least I won't ever have to see that angry, ghostly little face again.

Once I've removed what's left of my eyeballs and sterilized the area, I start stitching the wounds shut. I'm finally prepared for the review hearing tomorrow morning. And I'll never see another ghost again.