Keep My Secrets by Elena Wilkes (management books to read .txt) 📕

wildly scanned the black gap opening up before her. She gripped the covers closer to her chin. The door stopped. The moonlight replaced the blackness in a stripe of grey light.

There was only silence.

She held her breath.

Still silence.

A gust of wind moaned again, the rain smacking the glass, harder this time. The edge of the door juddered a little, shivering in the draught, as it moved gently back and forth. She let her breath go.

The bathroom window… It didn’t close properly, did it? That was all. Just the bathroom window and the doorcatch not latched.

Swinging her legs from the side of the bed, she reached for Vanessa’s dressing gown and pulled it on. Tiptoeing onto the landing, she waited a moment, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone. The house was quiet. She glanced toward the bathroom door; she could feel the chill even from here. She took a careful step, trying to remember if any of the boards creaked. One tiny tiptoe as she eased her bodyweight forward, the carpet cushioning each tread.

Two more, and she’d be at the top of the stairs.

Her fingers brushed the wall to steady herself. She reached the doorway of Charlotte’s room but something made her look round.

An eye looked back at her.

It was red and blazing, a hooded outline beneath it hung there, long and shapeless, its silence dark and black and staring.

The shock sent her stumbling forward, her hands flailing for the bannister as she slipped with a shriek down the first few steps, skidding and juddering until she landed in a heap at the bottom.

There was an immediate blaze of light as Peter appeared, bleary but wide-eyed, scrambling down the stairs after her.

‘Oh my god, Frankie!’ He reached down to grab her, but she was already hauling herself to her feet. Vanessa was close on his heels.

‘What’s happened? What’s the matter?’

She immediately scooped her up, arms around her, holding her up, smoothing her hair and the tears from her face.

‘Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,’ she kept saying.

‘I saw…’ she blubbered. ‘I saw…’

‘What did you see? Are you hurt?’ Vanessa kept checking her up and down. ‘Another nightmare – was that it?’

‘I wasn’t dreaming – I wasn’t.’

She saw Peter and Vanessa exchange a look as they both began to lead her into the living room to the sofa where they banked her up with cushions and a throw that Peter pulled over her knees and tucked in.

‘What’s going on?’

Jack appeared in the doorway rubbing his eyes.

‘Another nightmare.’ Peter looked over at him. ‘That’s all.’

Jack knelt at the side of the sofa and took her hand. ‘What did you see, Frankie? What was it?’

‘Let’s not go there right now Jack, shall we?’ Peter snapped. ‘She doesn’t need interrogating.’

Frankie saw something in the glare that passed between them.

‘I saw an eye.’ Frankie looked from one to the other. ‘An eye staring at me. In Charlotte’s room. The door was open.’

Peter looked up at Vanessa. ‘Go and see what it could have been, could you, Nessa? Just to put Frankie’s mind at rest.’

Vanessa nodded. The three of them stayed silent as they listened to her soft footsteps creaking their way up the stairs. There were several minutes, and then the sound of her coming back down again.

‘No, that door is firmly closed.’ Vanessa came to stand in front of her. ‘As in, pulled shut.’

‘It was open,’ Frankie insisted, staring up at them. ‘I swear to you, that door was open.’

Peter bent and put his hand on her knee. She could feel the heat through the blanket.

‘Well, it’s not now. Do you want to go up and check for yourself?’

She felt the pressure of the squeeze. Her eyes caught his, but his expression stayed the same: kind and concerned as ever.

‘No,’ she said with a little shake of the head, sniffing. ‘No, I don’t. Thank you, though.’

‘Good. That’s good.’ He patted her hand and straightened, smiling round at Vanessa and Jack. ‘There we are then.’

She felt her cheeks colouring.

‘It was my fault,’ Jack said suddenly.

They all looked at him.

‘I told Frankie a ghost story earlier. Well, kind of a ghost story. Something Charlotte once told me.’ He looked at his father. ‘I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault.’

‘A ghost story?’ Peter’s eyes narrowed.

‘Stupid, really.’

Peter opened his mouth to say something else but Vanessa interrupted. ‘Hey, look, we’ve all got a heavy day tomorrow so let’s not get involved in a fight. Now, are we all ready for bed?’

‘Would you mind if I didn’t?’ Frankie suddenly blurted. She couldn’t face the thought of going back up there. ‘Would it be okay if I stayed down here? I don’t think I’d be able to sleep anyway.’

‘Of course you can!’ Vanessa soothed. ‘I’ll bring the duvet and pillows down and we’ll make you a nice comfy bed on the sofa. No problems at all.’ She disappeared upstairs and then came back with armfuls of bedding.

‘Here.’ She slotted one of the pillows behind her. ‘You can watch TV if you want, too.’ She picked up the remote.

‘I’ll stay with her,’ Jack said firmly. ‘To keep her company for a bit.’

He sat, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Vanessa smiled uncertainly. ‘Okay then. If you need anything, Frankie, you know where we are.’

‘Thank you, I’m fine.’ She smiled back.

‘We’ll say goodnight, then. See you in the morning.’

Peter stooped forward and kissed her briefly on the forehead. She was aware of his breath, the sudden closeness of the stubble on his chin. There was a smell about him: strangely sweet, like rotting apples. She felt herself go pink.

‘We’ll look after you, Frankie. That’s all you need to remember. You’ve given us so much just being here. Never feel embarrassed about feeling overwhelmed – our home is your home.’ He stood, surveying her for a moment before collecting himself. ‘Okay then. Night-night you two.’

She and Jack waited, listening to them making their way up the stairs and the click of their bedroom door. Frankie hugged her knees and Jack let out a massive sigh.

‘I warned you, didn’t I?