Rachel Bennett - The Flood

‘Hello, house,’ she whispered.

She clambered in through the window. Home, she thought, then shoved the idea away. This place hadn’t been home in years. Daniela had assumed she’d never come back, especially after Dad died. In fact, until this morning she’d assumed the place had been sold, and she’d never have to lay eyes on it again. Today was not working out at all as she’d hoped.

She paused with one foot on the carpet and one on the sill. It hadn’t occurred to her how weird it would feel to step into Auryn’s personal space like that. To be honest, the bedroom didn’t look much like Auryn’s anymore. Auryn had always been tidy to a fault, even as a kid. It was strange to see the bed in disarray and clothes scattered across the floor. On a cluttered table next to the bed was a half-empty bottle of wine and a half-full ashtray. Auryn had never been a big drinker, certainly never a smoker.

Daniela took off her boots and carried them so she wouldn’t track mud through the house. On soft feet, she padded across Auryn’s room to the door.

Out on the upstairs landing, there were more obvious signs that the house was neglected. The old wallpaper had turned yellow with age. A faint smell emanated from the drains backing up into the kitchen. The whole place was damp and cold. Daniela tried the light switch but the power was off.

She closed her eyes and breathed. The smell of damp and drains couldn’t entirely overpower the familiar scent of the house. Daniela was grateful the bedroom doors were closed; she couldn’t face seeing Dad’s room. Nothing in the house had been updated, aside from a few new items of furniture. A layer of dust and age covered everything.

The door to the attic room squealed as she pulled it open. It released a waft of cold, stale air, loaded with familiarity. It made Daniela nineteen again. She shuddered.

Up in the converted attic, a window in the gable wall was broken, an inexpertly fixed piece of plyboard keeping out the chill wind. All the furniture had been cleared out and the wide expanse of floorboards was patterned with dust. A leak in the roof had spread patches of damp across the plaster walls.

Daniela wondered if Auryn had emptied the other bedrooms or just this one, which they’d shared as kids. Back then, it’d made sense for her and Auryn, the youngest two, to share a room. They’d been so close in age. As time went on and they’d started wanting their own space, their father promised he would fix up the spare room for Auryn, but it remained as a junk room, with a battered futon shoved in one corner, until Auryn lost patience and moved down there anyway, carving out a neat little space among the clutter.

Daniela stepped into the centre of the room like a sleepwalker. Everything seemed unreal, like pictures in a faded book. Her bed had stood against one wall, with Auryn’s directly opposite, beneath the skylight. An empty wooden shelf was still fixed to the wall beside the window. Back in the day, it’d been laden with Auryn’s paperbacks and emergency supplies – a spare phone charger, AA batteries, and a pen-torch in case of power cuts. Prepared and paranoid, that was Auryn. Even after she’d moved to the spare room, she’d kept a stash of emergency supplies up here.

The floorboards were scratched where the heavy iron frame of Daniela’s bed had dragged. Daniela knelt and located a gap between two boards that was slightly larger than it should’ve been. A short plank that’d been removed and replaced so many times it’d worn smooth at the edges. Daniela used her fingernails to prise up the board.

Below was a musty space. It was a not-so-secret secret; a hidey-hole she and Auryn had used to conceal bits and pieces they considered valuable. As they’d got older, they’d used it less frequently. Daniela doubted anyone had lifted the board since she’d stashed something important there, seven years ago.

So, she was surprised to find a large, rectangular object, the size of a breeze block, wrapped tightly in plastic, taking up most of the room in the hole. Apparently at least one other family member recalled the hiding place.

Daniela reached past the plastic-wrapped object, flinching away when it brushed her arm. Whatever it was, it wasn’t hers, and she avoided touching it.

Right at the back of the concealed space, wedged behind a wooden support, so far that Daniela had to lie down flat to reach it, should’ve been a small bundle wrapped in cloth. At first, she couldn’t find it, and panicked. Had someone taken it? But then her fingers closed on the bundle. It was tucked further back than she’d thought.

Daniela drew it out gingerly. The cloth had once been a blue striped tea towel, but long years in damp conditions had turned it into a formless grey mush, coated in dust and rot. It smelled of decay.

Perching on her heels, Daniela unwrapped the old bundle. The last seven years concertinaed and suddenly she was a teenager again, sitting on the edge of her bed, folding the towel around a slim metal object. The memory returned with such clarity it made her flinch. She’d pictured returning here so often it was hard to believe this was real.

She knew it wasn’t smart to retrieve the object, but she couldn’t stop herself. For years she’d wondered whether it’d remained unfound, awaiting her return. She had to know.

She pulled away the friable cloth to reveal a flick-knife. Rust decorated the once shiny steel, but couldn’t obscure the shape of a snake, inlaid in black, along the dark red handle.

Along with the knife, concealed in the folds of the cloth, were four gold rings, tarnished and discoloured, with precious stones that no longer glittered.

The rings were what she’d come to the house for. Daniela had a rough idea how much they were worth. Not nearly as much as five thousand, but maybe enough. By now it should be safe to sell them. In her palm, they were cold enough to make her skin tingle. Here was another chunk of her past. She tucked them in the pocket of her jeans.

She started to rewrap the knife, but her gaze fell on the plastic-wrapped package in the hidey-hole.

What was Auryn hiding?

Curiosity won, and she lifted the package out. It hadn’t lain there long enough to collect dust. In the slightly better light, the blue polythene became translucent. Daniela whistled in surprise.

The package contained stacks of twenty-pound notes, bound so tightly they’d become a hard brick. Daniela weighed it in her hand. She couldn’t begin to estimate how much money was there.

What the hell was Auryn doing with this?

She hadn’t for a moment expected to find money in the house. She’d come back for what was hers, that was all. And yet, here it was, like a gift from God, left hidden for her in an empty house. Just when she needed it most.

How long would it be until Auryn came back to the house? How long before she checked the hidey-hole? It’d be days at least. Possibly longer. She might not discover the money was missing for weeks.

Daniela hesitated a moment more as she struggled with her conscience. Absently she pocketed the knife. Then she replaced the loose floorboard.

Cradling the plastic-wrapped money, Daniela went downstairs. She closed the attic door behind her.

Rather than clamber down the tree, she figured she could let herself out through the front door if she moved whatever was blocking it. She took her boots and the money and followed the stairs at the far end of the landing down to the flooded ground floor.

Halfway down, she stopped.

The only light came from the round window at the top of the stairs. It wasn’t really adequate to illuminate the hallway. But Daniela could see the shape that lay blocking the front door. It wasn’t sandbags.