Helen Phifer - The Good Sisters - The perfect scary read to curl up with this winter

This was well and truly overstepping the mark. It was beyond their working relationship and he felt like a dirty old man for even thinking about her like that. Instead he went back to the kitchen where he began to make some toast and a pot of tea, banging around loudly and hoping she’d wake up.

As he finished setting the teapot on the table, he turned and jumped to see her standing there yawning. She was wearing a pair of mismatched pyjamas. Her hair was tousled and sticking up and she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on. She looked so sexy. Mortified, he had to turn away before she noticed what a funny shade of red his face had turned.

‘What time is it?’

‘I’m early. It’s only eight o’clock. I thought I’d get started on that second bedroom. I wanted to make a big difference today.’

‘Thanks, Ollie, that’s really kind of you.’ Kate sat down, putting her head in her hands.

Ollie poured her a mug of tea out and passed her some toast. As he reached over he caught a whiff of her perfume. It was the same one his wife had worn. Funny how he’d never noticed that before. Then again he’d never been in such close proximity to Kate in her pyjamas either. Normally they were both covered in plaster dust and muck. She sipped the tea and picked up a slice of toast, nibbling on the corner. She held her head up with one hand. He kept telling himself not to say it, but it came out before he could help himself.

‘Heavy night?’

She looked at him and he saw the faint redness beginning to creep up her neck. He could have kicked himself. It was none of his bloody business what she did so why was he so bothered?

‘Not really, I couldn’t sleep. I tried my best to drift off but then I heard scratching on the wall and I thought I heard noises coming from the bedroom above mine. I had to go and investigate, but there was nothing there.’

‘It’s an old house, Kate. It would make lots of noises anyway as the floorboards settled once the air cooled. With the amount of work we’re doing it’s bound to increase – especially at night when there’s no one banging around up there and you’re here on your own. I never thought to mention it to you.’

She nodded her head. ‘Oh that reminds me: did you leave that bedroom window and door open?’

‘No, I was the last one in. I’m sure of it and I could swear that I shut them both. Why?’

‘They were both wide open when I went up there and it was freezing cold. Oh and I didn’t think the crosses were very funny either.’

He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. His first instinct was that she’d been drunk and didn’t know either, but then it bothered him that the window was open. He distinctly remembered closing it because he’d wondered whether or not he should leave it open an inch to air the room out.

‘How wide open was the window?’

She put the mug down and lifted her hands apart quite some distance.

‘I didn’t leave it like that. I’m positive.’

‘Well someone did. It doesn’t matter now. It just gave me a bit of a fright being on my own and sober for the first time in, well, in a long time.’

‘What happened, Kate?’

‘Not much really, well apart from me deciding that I’d not drink and then I couldn’t sleep because of the scratching and noises.’

She leant forward onto her elbows, managing to knock her mug and spill tea all over the table. He jumped up to get some kitchen roll and mop it up.

‘No I mean exactly what happened that caused you to come back down and finish off almost half a bottle of vodka?’

He could have kicked himself. Now she was going to think he was some weirdo who was keeping tabs on her. This was her house and her life. What right did he have to know how much vodka she had left in the bottle or how much she’d drunk? But she never said anything, because he knew that once more he’d put his size eleven foot in it and embarrassed her.

‘I was lying in bed and heard noises from upstairs – well footsteps to be exact – so feeling brave I went up there to see what or who it was. All the other doors were shut except for that one; it was wide open. So I forced my shaking legs to walk down and have a look inside. That’s when I saw the window open and figured the breeze had opened the door, but it doesn’t explain who put those fucking awful crosses on the wall. To tell the truth I was really pissed off about that last night. I spent ages that first afternoon going round collecting them all. Now I don’t want them in my house and if it was some kind of joke, then that’s enough and we can forget about it; but it was all just a bit too freaky at three o’clock in the morning. So can you tell Ethan and Jack no more, please?’

‘First of all I don’t know anything about any crosses. I’ll ask the lads if they do when they get here, but they left before I did. However, most importantly, why didn’t you phone the police? It could have been a burglar or a tramp.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not a complete wimp, and I’m used to all sorts of people – I had no choice living in that flat – and let’s be honest there’s not much to steal, is there?’

‘Phoning the police doesn’t mean you’re a wimp. You are on your own living in this huge house in the middle of nowhere. Phoning the police is the sensible thing to do. Or you could have phoned me. I would have come over.’

‘I did think about it – ringing the police and you – but the police would have looked me up and seen that I’d been previously arrested for drunk driving. Then they’d have thought I’d had one too many glasses of wine and not take me seriously anyway. I’m sure they have far more important things to do. I didn’t ring you because I didn’t want to disturb you so late. That is way beyond the call of duty as my project manager and builder.’

‘What about my being your friend? I’ve known you a long time, Kate. I’d like to think that we weren’t just in a business relationship.’

He wanted to kick himself. What was wrong with him this morning? He didn’t know whether it was the sight of her sitting there, looking as sexy as hell, or the concerned big brother coming out in him, but he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. She pushed her uneaten toast to one side and stood up.

‘Thanks for my breakfast. I better go and get dressed.’

He watched her leave then stood up himself. He needed to get cracking, otherwise he was going to end up running after her and saying something he might regret later, when he was at home thinking about everything.

This was none of his business. By the comments she’d made Kate had made that quite clear. She didn’t think of him as a close friend. If she had she would have called him last night and she hadn’t, which hurt him, but he’d get over it. From now on he would keep it purely professional: no flirting, laughing or joking. At least the job would get done quicker. The harder he worked the less time he’d have to think about her and her situation – or so he hoped. He put the mugs and teapot in the sink then went out to his van.

***

Last night seemed so far away now and Kate had been dreaming about the last time she’d taken her girls shopping. Amy had come with them and they’d done the full works: Trafford Centre, Nando’s for lunch. Back then she had never imagined how shitty her life was going to turn less than three months later.

She noticed the empty vodka bottle was now in the bin. She needed to get a grip and sort her life out. Ollie was a kind, good-looking, in fact very attractive man, but he was also a married man and there was no way she was going to go there – no matter how lonely or scared she was or how much her hormones were telling her to.

5 January 1933