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They drove through a set of large, rusted iron gates, the pillars either side surmounted by gargoyles. It was a moment before the care home came into view. When it did, she feared the onset of another panic attack.
As they pulled up, she stared out the window, hoping the sight might soften on further inspection.
Gingerly, she climbed out, gazing up at the ornate gothic construction, with its multitude of grey stone walls and rectangular windows silhouetted against the darkening November skyline.
Another crackle of lightning split the smouldering clouds above, connecting with the top of an east-facing turret. The Rose Court Care Home wouldn’t look out of place in aHammer House of Horrorproduction.
Another deep rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.
Jesus, this place was creepy.What next?Vincent Price laughter? Dracula flapping the reins of a horse-drawn hearse? She had to question whether working here was really going to solve her problems, or instead send her resolve plummeting into further despair.
Calvin appeared next to her with her suitcase. ‘Head inside, the door’s unlocked. There’s something I need to do first.’
‘Sure,’ she said. It wasn’t like anything else had been normal so far tonight.
Dragging her suitcase up to the wooden door, she glanced back and watched Calvin jog back to his car, his gait athletic and effortless. He didn’t seem to fit in with this place any more than she did. It was certainly a strange place for a famous footballer to be residing, even if it was only temporarily, while he dealt with his uncle’s estate. She would have thought he’d be staying in a nearby five-star resort with spa facilities and a gym. Maybe there weren’t any in this part of the world.
As she watched him, a man’s face suddenly appeared at the back window of the Mazda. It gave her such a jolt that she screamed and jumped backwards. Her ankle buckled under her and, for the second time that evening, she found herself landing on her bum.
Calvin came racing over. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’
She waved a finger at the face, recognising the red coat and the wild black hair. ‘Who… who’s that man?’
He looked over to where she was pointing. ‘Oh, that’s Rowan Blakely, the care home resident that went missing tonight.’ He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. ‘Are you okay?’ His soft Yorkshire accent was at odds with the panic racing through her.
No, she was not okay. But as Calvin seemed completely unperturbed by the sight of a gruesome creature sitting in hisvehicle – face twisted with pain, eyes crazed and searching – who was she to comment. ‘Why is he dressed like that?’
‘Rowan gives talks at the local pub, he’s an expert on the ghosts of Pluckley. He had a bit too much to drink tonight, so the landlord called me and asked me to pick him up. By the time I got there, Rowan had gone walkabout. I found him staggering down the lane where I picked you up.’
‘Right.’ So it hadn’t been a ghost then – it was a real person. She could relax, she wasn’t going crazy… if you ignored the strange noises and birds flapping manically in the woods.
Calvin opened the front door for her. ‘Welcome to Pluckley.’
Welcome, indeed.
Chapter Six
Friday, 26thNovember
It was gone eight a.m. by the time Calvin headed upstairs to check on Kate. He hadn’t had the best start to the day and was running late. Geraldine’s hip was playing up, so he’d offered to take Suki for a walk, intending to combine exercising the dog with his morning run. He’d envisaged jogging through Screaming Woods with the dog obediently trotting behind him. Instead, the damn creature kept stopping to sniff, pee and dig up random pieces of wood. All this was followed by rolling in several muddy puddles and then disappearing into the forest like a blonde bullet, when she’d picked up the scent of another animal.
What had started out as a low-impact jog turned into a full-on sprint as he tried to keep track of her. He could only imagine the grief he’d get from Geraldine if he lost her precious dog, or his heart consultant at his next check-up when they reviewed the data from the implantable loop recorder inserted in his chest. He’d religiously stuck to his permitted exercise regime since being diagnosed, but the structured plan drawn up for him hadn’t taken into account the unpredictability of chasing after a blessed dog.
By the time they arrived back at the care home, they were both covered in mud, soaking wet and in desperate need of a bath.
Tying up his damp hair, he pulled on his green Nike hoodie and climbed the stairs to the second floor. The top floor was reserved for the staff team, and it was where they stored all the linens, drugs and medical equipment. The first floor was the nursing floor, where the residents slept, and the ground floorwas the communal area, where the kitchen, dining room and living room were. It was also where his room was situated.
His late uncle had lived on site when he’d been manager and had converted a section of the east wing into a self-contained apartment, consisting of a snug bedroom and a living room with an open fire and a huge bay window. It was rustic and draughty, and a far cry from the plush hotels he’d stayed in as a footballer, but it didn’t bother him.
After all, it was only temporary. He’d be back home in Leeds soon, enjoying the comfort of his new-build house, with its latest gadgets and stark white decor – something Ainsley had insisted on. He could only imagine her reaction if she saw where he was living now. Not that she’d care. And besides, maybe he preferred period and rustic to magazine contemporary. It was certainly less clinical. All that white had strained his eyes.
Punching in the security code, he let himself into the staff area, which appeared to be deserted. It wasn’t surprising. The residents would have been washed and dressed by now, and would be eating breakfast, either in their rooms or downstairs in the dining room. The staff would be administering medications and doing their nursing rounds.
He hadn’t seen Kate in the dining room or in the library, so he assumed she was still in her room. He wasn’t sure whether knocking on her bedroom door was appropriate, but after last night it seemed wrong not to check on her. She hadn’t seemed overly enamoured with Pluckley. Her nervous state hadn’t been helped by the stormy weather or being left stranded at the train station. Encountering Rowan Blakely dressed in his period costume had been the final straw and he’d feared she was about to have another panic attack.
He’d become accustomed to the weird noises and strange behaviours of the village, but Kate hadn’t had the opportunity to adjust. She was probably hiding under the covers, shivering andquestioning her decision to work here. Or worse, she’d already packed up and left.
He tapped on her door. ‘Hello…? Kate…? Are you up yet?’
