L. Maynard - Black Cathedral

‘This is pointless,’ Johnson said. ‘She’s not here. Let’s go back to the bar.’

‘ To do what?’ Bennett said. ‘Sit there and get pissed?’

‘That’s better than roaming about the house aimlessly,’ Eddie Farrant said. ‘We’re not going to find her.’

‘What makes you so bloody sure, Eddie?’ Casey Faraday said. Her voice had a hysterical edge. Bennett looked at her sharply. She was on the edge and the slightest thing might push her over.

‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ Farrant said. ‘This is the second time we’ve searched this place. The staff has gone, Jo’s gone. We’ll be next. One by bloody one.’ He said it calmly but the fear was evident.

‘That’s enough, Farrant,’ Bennett said. ‘ We don’t want to hear your opinions.’ He went across to Casey and wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders. ‘Take no notice of him, Casey. He’s just sounding off. All wind and piss,’ he added, remembering Jo Madley’s graphic description earlier.

Eddie Farrant glared at him. ‘I resent that,’ he said, his temper flaring. ‘I’m entitled to express my opinions.’

‘Not when it’s upsetting others.’ Bennett stood upright and his posture dared Farrant to take it further.

‘I need a drink,’ Farrant said.

‘So you’re just going to sit in the bar and lose yourself in a bottle. Is that the plan, Eddie?’ Sheila said.

‘Yes,’ Farrant said. ‘That’s the plan.’ He shoved past her and made his way down the stairs.

Andrew Johnson looked at the others, then shrugged and followed Farrant. Michael Bennett stood at the top of the stairs with the two women. ‘Did either of you see a radio transmitter in any of the rooms? They must have had a contingency in case the phones went down.’

Casey and Sheila exchanged looks, and then both shook their heads. ‘There could be one on the boat Lomax has down at the jetty,’ Sheila said after a moment.

‘You’re probably right,’ Bennett said. ‘Let’s go down and tell the others. One of them might know how to use it.’

‘Don’t you?’ Sheila said.

Bennett’s cheeks flushed. ‘No. I don’t. Outside my sphere of experience.’

‘My dad had a CB radio,’ Casey said. ‘Years ago when it was all the rage. Breaker one nine…all that nonsense.’

‘Did he let you use it?’ Sheila said. She’d seen the films and found them boring, preferring her dad’s old tapes of Tony Hancock and The Radio Ham .

Casey shook her head. ‘But I used to watch him. I’m sure I could pick it up if I had a bit of practice.’

‘Then what I suggest is that we all get in one of the Land Rovers and drive down to the jetty,’ Bennett said.

‘Andrew and Eddie won’t want to leave the comfort of the bar,’ Sheila said.

‘That’s up to them. We can still go,’ Casey said.

‘I’d prefer it if we all stayed together,’ Bennett said. But he didn’t relish another run-in with the two men, especially as they’d have drunk quite a bit by now.

‘But you can’t force them to go to the boat,’ Casey said. ‘And if we try to argue with them we’ll just be wasting time. I don’t know about you two, but I want to get off this bloody island as soon as possible.’

‘Amen to that,’ Sheila said.

‘Well, let’s go and see what they say,’ Bennett said, although he had no intention of trying very hard to persuade them.

Eddie Farrant reached the bottom of the stairs. He’d had enough of Michael Bennett. It was bad enough having to suffer his pettiness and rank-pulling at work without having to endure it here.

‘Eddie.’

He glanced round, peering along the corridor, which led to the kitchen. Jo Madley was standing there, her back to the wall. As their eyes met she beckoned him with a quick motion of her hand, then peeled away and disappeared into one of the rooms. Johnson was already in the bar and he could hear the others as they made their way down the stairs. He wasn’t going to wait for them, and Bennett’s inevitable order couched as a suggestion that they all go after Jo together. There had been something in her eyes; something that his mother would have called a come hither look. He’d lusted after Jo ever since she started at Waincraft, though not as obviously as Andrew, and he felt an unmistakable stirring between his legs. That look!

He took off down the corridor, walking quickly, found the room she had entered and slipped inside.

It was dark. The drapes were pulled. His hand reached for the light switch.

‘Leave it!’

He let his hand drop. ‘Where are you? I can’t see.’

And then he felt her body press against him. ‘Here,’ she said, her mouth closing over his.

His hands slid over her back, pulling her closer, whilst his tongue tasted the sweetness of her mouth. Her hands were in his hair, fingers entwining themselves, gripping tightly, almost painfully, her lips bruising his. Finally he broke away. ‘Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere.’

‘That doesn’t matter now,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Eddie, I don’t want to die.’

‘Die? What are you talking about?’

‘I want to show you something,’ she said, and grabbed his hand, tugging him across the room.

‘What?’ he said, wanting her back in his arms, wanting to feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest.

She didn’t let go of his hand; instead her fingers closed more tightly around his, making him wince. They reached the window. He could hear her breathing heavily, but still could not make out her features in the gloom. He sensed rather than saw her hand reach out and pull open the drapes. Twilight nudged its way into the room. He peered out through the window at the Manse’s sprawling grounds.

‘I can’t see anything.’ It was too dark outside to see anything clearly.

‘Not out there. Here!’ Her voice was insistent, almost impatient.

He turned to her and saw her face for the first time.

The scream bubbled in his throat but refused to leave his lips.

Maggots. Hundreds, thousands of them, covering Jo Madley’s face. The nose had gone, eaten away. Fat white bodies dropped from lips that bare seconds ago had been pressed against his. They writhed over and under her skin making it ripple and pulse. They moved under her eyelids, dropping from her eyes like white tears.

‘Pretty, eh?’ The words sounded thick, and they triggered the scream.

The scream brought the others running.

Farrant spun round as the door was flung open and Bennett, Sheila and Casey ran into the room.

‘Eddie, what’s wrong?’ Bennett shouted.

‘That!’ Farrant shouted back and turned back to face Jo Madley, but she’d gone.

‘What?’ Sheila said.

‘She was there…right there,’ Eddie Farrant said. ‘Horrible. Maggots.’

Bennett turned to the women. ‘Have you any idea what he’s talking about?’

Sheila shrugged, went across to Farrant and put an arm around his shoulders. ‘It’s all right, Eddie. Come back to the bar and have a drink. A stiff brandy will help.’

‘She was here in the room with me, Sheil. Jo. Her face was alive with maggots.’ He clutched his stomach and convulsed, vomiting on the floor.

‘Charming,’ Bennett said quietly to Casey. ‘How many has he had anyway?’

Farrant wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I know what I saw. And no, I’m not drunk. Jo was here, in this room.’

‘Well she’s not now,’ Bennett said, his voice more terse than he intended, but fear was getting the upper hand now and he was no longer as controlled as he would have liked. ‘Back to the bar. We need to talk this through and make some decisions.’

When they were all seated in the bar with more drinks Bennett began, ‘Casey thinks she might be able to work the radio in the boat. We could then call for help.’