Adam Nevill - House of Small Shadows

But finishing the valuation begged the question, what next? In the months ahead the catalogue would need approval, contracts would require signatures, and arrangements would have to be made for an auction. Her visits to the Red House would be endless, her exposure to this madness limitless.

She also suffered a persistent anxiety that Edith wouldn’t let her go. That her firm’s contract would be dependent on her staying at the Red House for weeks, even months. Her role had already fallen into being led to curious rooms, introduced to their interiors and inhabitants, before being whisked away. Boundaries upon her freedom to roam and work independently had been set in stone that morning. The idea of enduring even one more day of the obsessive supervision and tormenting felt like it would break what little spirit she’d summoned to get herself out here in the first place.

But the prospect of the Red House experience continuing was also unhealthily intriguing. She couldn’t fully suppress her fascination. Part of her was recklessly and guiltily eager to stretch and reach for the enigmatic here, for all that was undisclosed about this weird family. She wanted to throw open doors and see everything at once, while being desperate to flee every other minute of the day.

Catherine swapped her hands on the steering wheel and bit her nails until the fingertips on each hand were sore. Inside her mouth the chips of polish tasted like pear drops.

Two miles beyond Magbar Wood, her phone revealed two blue bars of a reception signal. There was nowhere to pull over on the narrow road, so she stopped the car in the middle of the lane to call Leonard. She tried his desk phone; she’d never known him leave the office before eight.

‘Hello, Leonard Osberne. Hello. Hello?’

Such was her relief to hear Leonard’s voice, she had to clear her throat of emotion before she could speak. ‘Leonard, it’s me.’

‘Kitten! How lovely to hear from you. Are you OK? How was your first day?’

‘Insane.’

‘How is the charming Edith?’

‘Well, like most sticklers for good manners, she’s as rude as they come. But it’s not just Edith, it’s…’

‘Go on.’

‘I just need a second pair of ears, Boss. Because… well, today has been… They’re crazy, Boss.’

‘Mad as snakes. We know that. It won’t make it any easier to start with, I understand. And you’ve gone out there after a truly ghastly experience. To be frank, I’m glad you called because I’ve been worried sick.’

‘I would have called earlier, but there’s no signal at the house.’

‘Well I’m all ears now, Kitten. So what’s on your mind? Or is it your heart?’

How could she even begin to explain her day? Or more precisely, how it made her feel? ‘I’m genuinely not sure about this, Leonard.’

‘Oh?’

‘Edith and Maude. I really do not know what to make of them. It’s like they’re only interested in trying to conjure all of this mystery and reverence around Mason.’

‘Has anything been said about the contract?’

‘Nothing. I’d say any mention has been deliberately avoided. I’ve escaped for a bit, but it’s only convinced me that other motives are at work out here, disingenuous motives. I think she might just be playing with us.’

‘Edith will dance about like a spider and keep changing her mind. I know that much. And sometimes we must suffer in our trade. But unless she’s thrown you out, she’ll come round eventually. I’m sure of it.’

‘Even if we get to that stage, it’s going to take a lot of stamina to endure her, Len. You really should come out. I could do with some backup.’

‘Of course. I plan to.’

‘Glad to hear it. There’s a stairlift here too, so you can get round easily.’

‘Tomorrow’s full. Maybe I’ll come the day after. But what has upset you? Can you be specific?’

‘Something… is just not right. Edith won’t get to the point at all about what’s available for auction. Which is why I’m just not convinced there’s ever going to be one. I haven’t even started the inventory. Haven’t seen a single bloody item. Instead, I’ve seen the most awful film and had this big history lesson about a puppet tradition that I’ve never even heard of. Henry Strader? Ring any bells? And Mason’s old puppets. She talks about them like they are children, you know, living. They sleep in a room next to her. She just seems intent on disturbing me. She’s such a bully. And this man, this Strader, who her uncle was obsessed with, they have this film of him being broken on the wheel. A cruelty play, that’s what she called it. Edith claims the play is hundreds of years old. It’s worse than a horror film. I’m supposed to be here for the tableau, the dolls. But it’s like they’re already out of the picture. Irrelevant. So I’m not even sure we’ll ever get to a contract, and if we do, it could be cancelled on a whim.

‘But where does she think it will all go, I mean is there a will? Any surviving family?’

Leonard was silent for a while, save for the little sucks on his pipe stem that she could hear through the phone. She could visualize his frown while he considered what she’d said. ‘Perhaps she can’t help herself. It’s in her nature, after so much time alone out there. Maybe she can’t resist you. Who can? And she’s making the most of you. Testing you with a load of nonsense. Though I have heard about Strader. He was supposed to have been executed for witchcraft, I think. Or maybe it was treason. Or both. He was put to death while touring London. But the authorities let a mob do the dirty work. His plays were supposedly highly seditious, and mystical. Apparently, a huge unwashed mob of peasants used to follow Strader around, if my memory serves. Orphans mainly, lepers, cripples. They thought he was a healer, a saint, the second coming or something, a saviour.’

‘That seemed to be the gist of it.’

‘And he was a local lad too, from out your way, so maybe that’s why it took Mason’s fancy once he’d killed everything on four legs and dressed it up. I’ll look Strader up for you but I also wouldn’t be surprised if Edith has also become attached to you, my dear. It’s why she wants to share all of this with you. She won’t show her hand, yet, but I am sure it will come. Dependency on new company is a hard thing to acknowledge when you’ve prided yourself on isolation. I mean, Kitten, you might just be the first guest they’ve had in that house in decades. You’re like the sole friend who came over for a sleepover and she wants to show you all of her toys. And she wants a passive audience too, for all of her jumbled-up stories. But she’ll keep the upper hand by playing hard. I’ve seen it all before, my dear. Maybe in not such a colourful way, but it goes with the territory.’

‘Maybe.’ She did feel as if she was an unwitting player in a performance, one born from decades of routine, tradition, and the stifling hierarchy of a servant and mistress, now gone from the world beyond Edith’s isolation within those red walls. But the more she considered the woman, now she was out of her grasp, the more the whole idea of Edith troubled her. ‘No woman still dresses like that, Leonard. The hair, the bleached face. It’s impossible. A costume? Is Edith playing a role? And Maude’s total silence, is that a performance too? She still hasn’t said a word, nothing. No explanation about the note. The two women function, but it’s like they’ve gone completely mad. It’s like some crazy prank.’

Her instincts suggested she was being prepared for a greater revelation. Now she was free of the building, the idea was hard to suppress. Or maybe, like Leonard claimed, they were merely apportioning out their helpless strangeness because they had nothing else to offer. She wanted to believe that.