Chapter 10
‘So,’ Ellis says as they walk out on to the street. ‘Fairground’s this way.’
‘Great.’ Sadie turns in the opposite direction.
‘Where are you going?’
Sadie glances back over her shoulder. ‘I said I wanted to see the cemetery.’
Ellis rolls her eyes. ‘You’re serious?’
‘Yep.’
‘Haven’t you had enough of dead bodies?’
Sadie smiles sweetly. ‘I can always find room in my life for one more.’ She picks up her pace.
‘Wait!’
She doesn’t wait.
‘You’re still going the wrong way.’
Sadie stops and turns.
Ellis half jogs to catch up. ‘Look. Sorry. It must have been rough, finding Frankie like that.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Was he like, gross?’
And suddenly Sadie sees him again. Lying by the pool in the sodden armadillo costume, so very pale, those fucking bright balloons bobbing obscenely on the pool’s surface.
‘Not gross,’ she lies. ‘Just dead.’
Ellis nods and squints at Sadie through her glasses. ‘What d’you think happened?’
She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I guess he tripped and fell in – and the costume dragged him down. The sheriff guy said he couldn’t swim.’
‘Yeah, he hated water.’
Sadie’s ears prick up. ‘Did you know him?’
Ellis nods. ‘Most of the kids round here knew Frankie. He worked at the diner—’ She cocks her head as if assessing how much to tell Sadie. ‘You won’t tell your dad this, will you?’
‘Depends on what this is …’ Seeing Ellis hesitate, she adds: ‘But no, not unless you’re going to say you pushed him in.’
‘Funny. Okay, between you and me, he was the go-to guy for weed.’
So, Serenity isn’t quite as perfect as it likes to make out.
‘Did you go to him?’ Sadie asks.
Ellis shakes her head. ‘Nah. That stuff makes me puke. But a couple of my friends did.’
‘Right.’ Sadie frowns. ‘I guess if Frankie was high, that might be why he drowned—’
‘Maybe,’ Ellis says. ‘Still fucked up, though.’
‘Yeah.’
Ellis sticks her hands into her shorts pockets. ‘So, why do you want to go and look at a load of old headstones?’
Sadie appraises her. She’s pretty; the glasses suit her.
And she’s obviously not the cheerleader type.
Anyone who wears a Bring Me the Horizon band T-shirt is hardly Miss All-American sweetheart.
However, the jury’s still out on whether they can be friends.
Sadie’s certainly not going to tell her why she really wants to visit the cemetery.
‘Cemeteries can tell you a lot about a place,’ she says. ‘Plus, they’re usually quiet … and I like solitude.’
She pauses. This could be Ellis’s cue to say, You know what, that’s fine. I’ve got better things to do than traipse around a graveyard with some annoying British newbie.
But she doesn’t. She shrugs, and says, ‘Fine, let’s go mingle with the dead. This way.’
Okay, first test passed, girl.
They walk up the road, turn a corner and walk down another wide, tree-lined avenue. More grand houses with giant pillars and balconies. Sprinklers drench lush green grass. The smell of exotic flowers and plants fills her nostrils.
‘So, what do you make of Serenity so far?’ Ellis asks. ‘Aside from dead bodies in your pool, obviously.’
‘It’s … okay.’
‘High praise.’
‘I guess I’m still taking it all in.’
‘My dad says you inherited your house here?’
‘Yeah,’ she says carefully. ‘From my grandma. We didn’t even know she owned a house in Florida.’
‘You had no idea?’
‘Nope.’
What the hell did you have going on, Grandma? Sadie thinks again. You used to recycle teabags. And all the time, this?
‘And you just upped and moved?’ Ellis asks.
‘We didn’t have much choice. We either had to live in the house or lose it.’
Ellis nods. ‘Yeah, the rules are really strict. That’s why there are so many ghost houses.’
‘Ghost houses?’
‘It’s what we call the empty houses in Serenity.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re all looked after. Grass cut. Windows cleaned. Curtains opened and closed. Lights go on and off, just like someone is living there, but they’re not. Your house was a ghost house for years.’
Sadie stares at her. ‘That is … kind of weird.’
Ellis shrugs. ‘It’s all about appearances. The Conservators are pretty hot on appearances.’
‘Who the hell are the Conservators?’
Ellis gives her a look. ‘Don’t you know anything about Serenity?’
‘Well, considering we only arrived here yesterday, no.’
‘You didn’t look it up before you moved?’
‘Yeah. A bit—’
Of course she’d googled it. But there was surprisingly little information about the town. Just a lot of pretty pictures and gushing realtors’ descriptions.
‘Okay,’ Ellis continues, a little impatiently. ‘So, the Conservators are the people who run Serenity. They look after the town, make the rules, and so on. “Conserving the serenity” they call it.’
‘Nice. See what they’ve done there.’
They reach the end of the road and turn right. Ahead of them, poking out over the rooftops, Sadie can see a thin spire with a cross on the top which she guesses must be Serenity Falls chapel.
‘Are there many ghost houses?’ she asks.
‘A few. There’s one on your road.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. The house opposite yours.’
‘Home and Spry?’
Ellis nods. ‘That’s been empty a few years now.’
Sadie frowns. But what about the face at the window? ‘You know who lived there?’
Ellis pulls a face. ‘This mean old bitch. Everyone hated her.’
‘What happened? Did she die?’
Ellis frowns. ‘Nah, I don’t think so. My friend Dax might know – he knows almost as much about Serenity as my dad.’
Sadie considers. ‘Could you show me the other ghost houses?’
Ellis gives her an odd look. ‘Why? I mean, they’re just empty houses and they look just like all the other houses. Well, except Harold’s cabin—’ She breaks off. ‘Which I’m not supposed to tell you about.’
Sadie smiles. ‘And now I’m interested.’
‘Seriously, my dad will be pissed if he finds out and he’s paying me twenty bucks to give you the guided tour. I don’t want to lose it.’
‘So, you’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart?’
‘What do you think?’
Sadie thinks she likes Ellis better now she knows she’s only in it for the money.
‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’
Ellis sighs but gives in too easily. She wants to tell her, Sadie thinks.
‘Okay. There’s supposed to be this creepy cabin deep in the woods.
It’s kind of a town legend. Apparently, Harold Winsom had it built so he could hide away there.
He’d take a boat into town early in the morning and after dark when no one would see him.
Then Harold Winsom died and the cabin in the woods was deserted and just left to rot. ’
‘The Conservators didn’t conserve it?’
‘I guess not. Anyway, it’s supposed to be haunted and all that shit. Kids dare each other to go visit it.’
‘You ever gone?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not an idiot. It’s made up.
It doesn’t exist. Even if it did, the woods are big, and there’s like, lethal areas of wetland and swamp.
There are a couple of rivers that run in and out of the lake.
If you don’t pick the right route, you’ll end up grounded or stuck in the marshes.
Years back, some kid got into trouble trying to reach the cabin and got attacked by a gator. ’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah. He survived. But he was all mangled up, limbs bitten off.’
‘Really?’
Ellis raises an eyebrow. ‘That’s what people say. Anyway.’ She holds an arm out. ‘We’re here. First stop on the doom tour. Serenity Falls Chapel and Cemetery.’
Sadie looks up. The chapel could have been lifted straight from colonial America.
It’s white, like a lot of the buildings in Serenity, and square, with a tall spire topped with a cross.
It’s surrounded by a small picket fence and neatly tended lawn.
She can see the cemetery stretching out behind the building.
Ellis pushes open the gate, and they step into the grounds.
Sadie isn’t given to all that spine-tingling, premonition-type crap.
But she can’t deny a strange feeling. Not a tingle in the spine.
More a shift in her guts. A rolling, like vertigo, or a sensation that she might suddenly throw up. She grips the fence.
‘You okay?’ Ellis asks, looking concerned.
‘Yeah. Just cramp.’
Or bad air. Just as quickly, the feeling passes.
Ellis gives her an odd look. ‘O-kay. Well, it’s round here.’
They walk around the side of the church.
‘It’s pretty small,’ Ellis says. ‘Serenity isn’t that old, so I guess not that many people have died here yet.’
That yet seems to hang a little heavy in the hot air. She surveys the cemetery. Neat rows of pristine headstones, each with at least one bouquet of fresh flowers. She wonders if this is down to caring relatives or done for appearances. Cynical or what?
She wanders around, bending down and looking at the names on the headstones.
Most of the people buried here are old. She guesses that’s a good thing.
She remembers the graveyard near their house in Manchester.
It was huge and ancient. A lot of the graves dated back to the 1600s and she always used to feel sad at how short people’s lives were back then.
Bet they would have killed for a vaccine, or even a fucking paracetamol, she thinks.
‘You looking for something in particular?’ Ellis asks, trailing after her.
Sadie doesn’t reply. She’s still scanning headstones.
Maybe he’s not here. Maybe he was cremated.
Maybe Jules made the whole story up … and then she sees it.
At the far edge of the cemetery. A small white headstone with the carved figure of a cowboy leaning against it.
Poignant yet weirdly kitsch all at once.
It’s set apart away from the other memorials, in the shade of some flowering bushes, almost like someone wanted it to be hidden.
She walks over and kneels to read the inscription:
Davey ‘Junior’ Henderson
July 25th 1992–May 19th 1997
Beloved son and grandson. Too precious for this place.
Dream of the day we meet again.
Sadie traces the words with her finger. A small shiver ripples through her. There are no flowers beside the grave and moss is starting to creep over the inscription.
‘Sad,’ Ellis says from behind her. ‘He was just a little kid.’
Sadie turns. ‘Do you know anything about him?’
Ellis shrugs. ‘No … why?’
Sadie considers and then decides – in for a penny, in for a pound.
‘Okay,’ she says. ‘This is going to sound weird, but—’
‘EXCUSE ME!’
They both jump at the sound of the man’s voice.
Ellis turns. ‘Shit!’
A figure is walking towards them. Tall and angular, dressed in a black priest’s cassock and white collar.
His hair is white and shorn so close to his skull the sunlight illuminates his pink scalp beneath.
He walks with a slight limp. As he gets closer, he smiles, but the gauntness of his face makes it seem more like a snarl.
‘Can I help you two young ladies?’
Ellis flushes. ‘Err, hello, sir. I mean, Father Miller.’
‘Ellis.’ The priest’s face softens a little. ‘I didn’t realize it was you. I should have put my glasses on. How’s your dad?’
‘Good, thanks.’
‘And who’s your friend?’
‘Oh, this is Sadie. She’s just moved here.’
Another of the not-quite-smiles. ‘Ah, of course. One of our new British residents.’ He extends a long, bony hand. ‘Miss Barker, isn’t it?’
Sadie feels her skin prickle. Does everyone know their business here? She accepts the hand. Dry and oddly cool in the sticky heat. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘I was just showing Sadie the cemetery,’ Ellis says.
‘Then you should have come to see me, Ellis. I would have been happy to show you around.’ Miller stares at Sadie. She notices now that his eyes are two different colours, one blue, one brown. ‘Are you religious, Miss Barker?’
She holds his gaze. ‘No. I’m an atheist.’
‘A religion in itself, some might say.’
‘Not my dad.’
‘And what would he say?’
‘Atheism isn’t replacing one crutch with another. It’s living life standing on your own two feet.’
As soon as she says it, she remembers the limp. Shit. But Miller just bursts out laughing.
‘I think I’m going to like your dad.’
I wouldn’t bet on it, Sadie thinks.
‘So, you like cemeteries?’ Miller asks.
‘I guess – they can tell you a lot about a place.’
‘And what does our cemetery tell you about Serenity Falls?’
Sadie looks around. ‘Most people buried here are old. Their families care about them – every grave has fresh flowers … except this one.’
‘True.’ He glances at the grave, and the mismatched eyes darken.
‘I heard Davey drowned in a swimming pool.’
Miller turns. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Not me,’ Ellis says quickly.
‘The guy who came to clean our pool,’ Sadie says.
Miller nods. ‘A tragic accident. It devastated his family.’
Sadie frowns. ‘So why does no one leave flowers?’
‘Man, you ask a lot of questions,’ Ellis mutters.
Miller regards Sadie more intently. ‘Davey’s mother left Serenity. She couldn’t bear to stay in the house where it happened.’
‘Doesn’t she come back, to visit his grave?’
Miller shakes his head. ‘No. Nobody has heard from her since.’
‘Your mum loved you very much, Sadie.’
‘So why did she leave?’
‘Do you think she’s still alive – Davey’s mum?’ she asks.
A look crosses Miller’s face. Sadness. Displeasure. It’s there and gone so quickly it’s hard to say. ‘I really don’t know. Perhaps you should talk to Ellis’s father. He’s the font of all knowledge on the history of Serenity – and he does love to share it.’
Ellis rolls her eyes. ‘That’s the truth.’
‘And now,’ Miller continues, ‘much as it’s nice to have some young people show interest in the cemetery, I have a sermon I must finish writing … and Serenity has many other beautiful sights.’
‘We were just going to meet my dad for lunch,’ Ellis says.
‘Well, that sounds like an excellent plan.’ Miller smiles, hand clasped patiently. Their cue to go. But Sadie can’t quite leave it.
‘What was his mum’s name?’
Miller watches her with those strange, mismatched eyes. For a moment, she thinks he isn’t going to answer. And then he says curtly: ‘Serena.’