Christopher Fowler - The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror. Volume 10

“I love it, I love it,” said Elsa Beth. “I love it, I love it,” said she.

Uncle Mose came two days later.

“My God, Uncle Mose,” said Vlad, “what is that you’ve got with you?” It was grey with reddish lights in its pelt, and it was huge, and it panted at them and lolled its tongue. “It’s big as a cow!”

Bella said, “ That’s no cow, that’s a big dog.”

“You’re right little Belly. A St Hubert Hound named Nestor. Fine with kids, but burglars watch out! Where’s some iced tea? Where’s our new house? Settle down Mose,” he advised himself. Moses Stuart Appleby had been rather tall and his shoulders still hinted at broadness. He was, as always, immaculate. “I’m all packed and weighed and ready for freighting, soon as I’m sure. Ready to go? I’m ready to go. Let’s fill a big thermos with iced tea, Elsie Bessy.”

They stopped in town for him to mail a letter, and an aged black man rose to confront them in clothes washed threadbare-clean. “You the folks buyin’ ol’ Rustler house nigh the river?”

“Was that its name, Russel? I didn’t know that,” said Vlad. “It’s on old River Road, though. Yes.”

The old man nodded. His skin was gray and his eyes were glazed with age. “That’s it. I born here, call me Pappa John. Can I pleased to give you folks some kindly advice? They is three warnings. Firstly, get you a cat. They hates cats. Nextly, keep you a fire. They feared o’ fire. And lastly, please folks, never get between one o’ them and the wall.” He nodded his ancient head. Vlad, understanding not one word, thanked him and went on into the post office. And then the town sped by. and a country lane, with old oak trees dripping Spanish moss.

“There it is.”

Uncle Mose looked and said nothing, until they went up on the wide verandah which ran all around the house. “Hey, look there. A tree. A lilac tree. Some old-time housewife planted a lilac bush, and now it’s grown taller than the house. Well, let’s open her up.”

Faint broom tracks showed that some attempt at house-cleaning had been made more recently than the planting of the lilac bush. Faint tremors and echoes in the old, old house. How old? Maybe in the title-deed. Maybe not. Were the Russels that old Pappa John mentioned the original owners? What was Uncle Mose doing? Uncle Mose was leaning over with his ear against the wall. Catching Vlad’s questioning eye, he gestured for Vlad to do the same. At first Vlad heard something like the sound of the sea in a seashell. After that came fainter and odder sounds. A rustling… a far-off clicking.

A breath lightly brushed his neck and Vlad jumped. It was Uncle Mose; “Hear anything?”

“Rats, maybe.”

“Rats don’t rustle. Rats don’t click. We’ll put out some rat-traps, then we’ll see.”

Attempts, rough and rude enough, had been made to keep the old house in order. In one room the ancient roses of the wall-paper bloomed faintly, almost evoking a ghostly perfume. Elsewhere the walls were papered only with yellowing, tattered newspaper. In one large closet, “Whew, kind of musty in here,” said Vlad.

“Whew is right. Worse than that.”

“Dead rat under the floorboards, or inside the wall?”

Uncle Mose shrugged. “Old houses, Lord, how they retain. Maybe the moldy diapers of a baby who died a hundred years ago. Well, no problem. Open all the doors and windows, have the place scrubbed down from attic to cellar.”

Back home, and effusively greeted by the great hound Nestor, and by Bella fresh and pink-cheeked from her nap. They had drinks. They discussed the house. They all agreed they loved the house. Discussion had reached a pleasantly high level when there was a piercing scream.

Tonight at the Murrays’ it was Anna’s turn to scream.

Vlad hastened to speak. “Say, why don’t we have a cook-out somewhere? A picnic?”

“Oh, good!” said Elsa. “Hey! why don’t we have it at the new house?” Then Elsa had her great and wonderful idea: “Why don’t we sleep out there tonight in sleeping bags? To celebrate, I mean.”

“All in favor, say Aye,” directed Uncle Mose, and he insisted that everything was to be his treat. And they got lots of everything.

At the old house: “The steaks are doing just fine,” said Uncle Mose. “I want to check something out. Bring some flashlights and come along.” He walked into the house with long strides, and what he wanted to check out was soon revealed. “Nothing in this trap, nothing in that one. Let’s take a look in the cellar. nothing. Traps are clean as a whistle. As near as I can see, there isn’t a rat in the whole place.”

Elsa said, of course, that she was delighted to hear it. “And I’m pleased to see how thick the walls are. It’ll stay cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter. My mother always said that high ceilings and thick walls are healthy.”

Nestor moved his huge head delicately. Nestor had been doing his own checking-out, and was still alert.

Bella said, “This is our new house.” The grown-ups were pleased. Yes, they said, this was their new house. Without changing her slow and level tone, Bella said, “I don’t like it.” Then she repeated, “I don’t like it.” Nor did she say anymore.

When the steaks were ready, they took their seats on the front steps. The steaks were tender and very, very good.

Later, upstairs in the rose-papered room, sleeping bags side by side, Elsa said, “You know, for an old bachelor, my uncle knows a thing or two. The gentle way he convinced Bella to share the downstairs room tonight, without a single protest. He must know this is a sort of special honeymoon thing. You and me.”

Vlad did not immediately answer. He rolled over so his sleeping-bag slightly overlapped hers. “Your place or mine,” he whispered.

Afterwards, Vlad went down to use the antique toilet behind the stairs. The door of one room opened a crack; lamplight and shadow. “Vlad?” said Uncle Mose.

The door opened wider. The great St Hubert hound appeared, his master close behind. “Would you be kind enough to let Nestor out the front door for a minute? Same errand as you. Let him back in when you’re ready. Didn’t want to leave Bella alone in case she woke up, first time in a strange house.”

“Sure. Let’s go, Nestor.” The dog came forward, gave Vlad a sociable sniff, waited until the front door was opened, and ambled off into the night. Vlad turned back, flashlight in hand, toward the water closet under the stairs.

“Oh, by the way, Uncle Mose; that funny sound we heard that time, when we were listening at the wall? The rustling and, uh, clicking? I heard it again a few minutes ago, when I happened to have my ear against the floor.”

“Look into it in the morning. On about your business now, your wife might be nervous alone upstairs. G’night.” The older man nodded, retreated into his chamber. Those two words were the last ones Vlad would ever hear him clearly say.

The plumbing rushed and gurgled loudly. Vlad stood by to make sure the ancient equipment suffered no overflowing; then went to the front door. Nestor appeared at once. “Good boy.” Light still showed beneath the closed door of Mose’s room.

Then the things began to happen.

In what order did the things happen? Some things happened simultaneously, and there was no time to pause and think. The first thing was absolutely astonishing in itself. Nestor flung himself into the air, absolutely vertically; his feet even left the floor. Then he hurled himself, still upright, against the closed door with the crack of light beneath it. Before his immense body slammed against the door, Bella began to scream in a thin and terribly high tone which Vlad had never heard from her before. At once there was an answering scream from Elsa upstairs and, more or less at the same time, Nestor’s body slammed against the door. Uncle Mose roared and his feet ran, tramping, inside the room which had gone dark. Nestor howled and tried to break down the door. Vlad flung himself upon the door, and fell against Nestor instead. He tried to hold his light steady to see and grasp the doorknob.