Before There Were Angels Read Free Page A

The function of the rooms was obvious. To scare us, probably.
    But they were fantastic too, all freshly painted, and there was a trapdoor into the attic. I wasn’t going up there, nor into the cellars.
    “Looks excellent,” I said as we came back downstairs again, leaving the boys to continue arguing over what bedroom they would each like to have.
    “I am glad you like it,” Sandra replied. ‘Relieved’ might have been a better word.
    “Do you really like it, darling?” Belle asked me.
    “Sure. So far.”
    “So far?”
    “Yes, so far. You know what I mean.”
    “Oh that.”
    “Yes that.”
    “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to the apartment. It’s a really interesting story.”
    “Bet it is.”
    There was a series of very loud bangs upstairs. Was that the boys, or …? Well, whoever the ghost was, he was going to have his work cut out making his presence known over the din of the boys. It was going to be ‘The Canterville Ghost’ all over again.
    “Come on, boys,” I shouted upstairs, only to realize that they were already downstairs beating each other up in the dining room.
    OK.
     
    *  *  *
     
    “You see,” Belle started, “there was once this family, two parents, two sons …”
    “Is this us or them?”
    “ Them … well, both really.”
    “And … ?”
    “The husband had a psychotic ex-wife …”
    “Rings a bell.”
    “Who lived close by … ”
    “At least we don’t have that.”
    “And somehow she got the keys to the house, probably by copying the keys of one of the boys.”
    “OK.”
    “And she turned up one morning, really early, around six o’clock, let herself into the house, and went up to their bedroom …”
    “And shot them.”
    “She shot the woman first, in the head. It wasn’t clear if she was planning to kill her husband, but then the children came running in wanting to know what was happening, and she shot them dead too. After that she had no choice, but she only gave him a gut shot and he took a long time to die, several hours.”
    “Charming. And what happened to her?”
    “Nobody knows. She disappeared.”
    “You don’t think she is still in the house, do you? We didn’t check the attic or the cellars.”
    “No, I don’t think so, but nobody knows. She made a clean getaway. There again, this only happened two months ago …”
    Belle liked her ghost s like I liked my steak, still breathing.
    “So what do you think?” she asked expectantly.
    “It’s a lovely house.”
    “It is, isn’t it? A great old Victorian,” she enthused.
    “And it’s cheap, isn’t it?”
    “Very cheap. A real steal.”
    “And it comes with a ghost or four, although George didn’t seem too troubled by anything.”
    “No, he was walking around and he seemed fine with the place.”
    I turned to George, grabbing his head. “What do you think, George?”
    It was clear what he thought - it was time for a gin and tonic. We would all need those, and in about the same large quantities as George tossed them back.
    It was the second worst decision of my life agreeing to live in that house, the worst one being to have ever married Rafaella. But the house had seduced me - what can I say? - and Belle was so happy, and I loved making Belle happy. And the sex with Belle would be good that night, as it always was. We had spectacular sex.
     

Chapter 5
     
    You must have stood in front of a new house when you are on the threshold of occupying it for the first time, wondering what level of happiness you will find on the other side of the front door.
    A new house is, after all, a commitment beyond money - it is a commitment of the next segment of your life - and somehow the house plays a living part in that. It is not just bricks and mortar, it is someone you hope will be an accommodating friend, generous in the joy it will extend to you.
    So I stood there.
    There were the usual steep steps and a dark blue door. Sure, I had seen those before when we viewed the house, but