The Case of the Haunted Cot

Chapter One

Chapter One

Sophie Fullwood threw back two more ibuprofen, hoping this batch would be the one to diminish her throbbing headache. Replacing the pack on the kitchen work-surface, Sophie left it where it was obvious, fully expecting to return to it later. She was lightheaded, feeling out of touch with reality, but not enough to escape its pain. Maybe if she took a few more pills it would help. Maybe if she downed the whole pack.

Forcing her head up, Sophie was unsure how long she’d been standing in the kitchen staring at the painkillers. She tried to look away from them, but there was little else to focus on other than the cracked kitchen wall tiles.

It was too quiet. For the last several days Sophie had switched between turning on the TV or radio, occasionally both when she was desperate to escape her thoughts. What was on was irrelevant; she never paid attention. What mattered was the noise, the distraction. And conversation was out of the question; the only person she could speak to here was her husband, and there was nothing but awkward silence when they were in a room together. There was simply nothing to say. Although fairly certain he was in the bedroom now, Sophie wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Keith had actually left the flat and she’d failed to notice.

Drifting into the living room, Sophie intended to switch on the TV, to whatever was the loudest channel she could find, most likely a music one. She was almost within reach of it when she heard the first noise. It was difficult to tell what it was, but it sounded akin to several people whispering at once.

It was barely audible, and wouldn’t have been heard at all if the flat hadn’t been utterly silent.

She turned around, the noise having come from that end of the room. There was nothing to see; the room was its usual dark, shadowy self. She’d left the kitchen light on, so there was some light coming through the open doorway, but little of it reached the opposite side of the room where the stereo sat. There were a couple of windows in the living room, but the curtains were drawn for both — and had been almost constantly for the last week — and only a small amount of twilight came through the edges. The only thing that stood out within the room, and she hadn’t noticed it immediately, was the small red light from the radio.

Did she leave that on? No, she was certain she hadn’t. And Keith wouldn’t have turned it on; he preferred the silence.

She started towards the radio. It was large, and almost old enough to qualify as a family heirloom. Soon, with the death of tape and the digital switchover, it would be completely useless, as even the CD player was struggling to do its job.

Less than three feet away, she heard the static, and stopped. It was quiet, but it wasn’t staying that way. As she stood there, she could have sworn it became louder. And why static? If it was still programmed for the last station she listened to, she wouldn’t have been listening to empty static no matter how much she liked noise.

And there was something else.

There.

In the background.

She took the last few steps to the unit, unconsciously placing her hand to the volume knob, turning it up further.

Yes, there was something beneath the static — a strange but familiar sound. Sophie listened carefully. The static increased, but so did whatever was behind it. Was that the radio station she’d listened to last? No, it wasn’t the sound of music. Neither did it sound like somebody speaking, at least not coherently.

As the background sound became clearer, Sophie felt weaker. She started to sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard it might have broken a second time.

It was the sound of crying.

A baby’s crying.

And not just any baby.

No.

Sophie collapsed to the floor, tears rolling down her face. She tried to speak, to shout out to her husband, but it was impossible.