5 Books For Eveline

37

37

Expecting the taxi to stop in a squeal of brakes, Purdy braced herself. Only for the driver to check his mirrors, indicate and come to a slow stop some way down the road. Looking back, through the rear window, Purdy swallowed her comment, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait here, please." The door opened and a biting wind washed across her face.

"Have you forgotten something?" The most cautious taxi driver in history looked over his shoulder. "I can drive back, but we can't take too long or we'll get caught in traffic."

"Just ... please, wait here." Almost breaking her walking stick as she tugged it free from the footwell, Purdy climbed out of the car. "A few minutes."

Moving as fast as she could, Purdy made her way back up the street until she stood outside Raya's house. Light had started to creep in, pushing away the darkness and she felt as though she stood before a haunted house. No light, in any of the windows, gave any indication that anyone occupied the house.

Hesitating, she fumbled with her phone, tugged from her pocket and checked the time. The appointment letter asked her to arrive early and she had made sure she gave herself enough time to reach the hospital, but that didn't anticipate this situation. Biting her lip, she laid her hand upon the ageing gate to the property.

It squeaked, once again, as she pushed it open, letting it swing back with a clatter and Purdy approached the door with caution. The letters still hung from the letter box, at the bottom of the door. Peeling paint showed that the place had not seen much attention, at least since before the old couple had died.

Purdy felt certain that she had seen a light in the window above, but she could see nothing, now. No twitching curtains. No movement. Despite her certainty, she began to doubt what she had seen, moving to the side and trying to catch a glimpse through the nearest window, but thick curtains blocked her view.

She could not let this pass. Not now. If she left it, returned to the idling taxi, condensation smoke rising from the exhaust, she knew she would regret it. No. She had seen something. Someone had switched that light on, inside the house. Purdy only had to knock upon the door. Ask whoever resided inside if she could take a quick look. Even if they said no, at least she could say she had tried.

Her hand raised, fingers curling into her palm and she made a light knock. She gave a little 'tut' to herself and then knocked again, louder, heavier, stood back and waited. She continued to wait until she began to doubt what she had seen once again. The light, she supposed, could have come from somewhere else, reflecting in the dirty windows.

She could have imagined it altogether. The stress of failing to complete the list, added to the tension of anticipating the hospital appointment, and the surgery, could have made her see something that was not there. It could have. With still no movement inside, Purdy stepped back, looking up towards the window where she had seen the light.

Down the road, the taxi driver tapped his horn. Not an impatient tap. The horn did not resound around the empty street. Only a little reminder that they had somewhere to go. About to turn away, Purdy heard another sound. Something falling, muted by intervening walls and windows. A sound that came from within the house.

Her head whipped back around and she held up a hand to the taxi, one finger raised, telling him she'd only take another minute. That was a lie. Purdy had become intrigued, now. Whoever occupied the house had made two mistakes. First, allowing the light to shine from the window above. The second, not showing enough care while moving around inside.

She returned to the door, knocking once again, even louder than before. When still no answer came, and with great difficulty, Purdy dropped to her knees, pulling out the old, weather beaten letters from the letterbox and dropping them to the side. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her hip, she leaned down, flicking the flap of the letterbox up and trying to look inside.