In his studio, Jason and Emily Danes stood, hugging each other tightly.
‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘Why is nothing going right for us since we moved here?’
‘I don’t know, Em. But we’ll deal with it.’
‘You heard what Claudette said in the pub. About the three families here who have died. What if the whole development is cursed or something?’
‘By what?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. By some malign spirit that doesn’t want us here. That thing – woman – we both saw.’ She nodded at the gesso board on the floor.
‘I don’t want to believe in any curse. Coincidences, yes – to me it’s just a terrible coincidence those people dying, if Claudette was right. Frankly I think she’s bonkers – probably made it up.’
‘And if she wasn’t making it up?’
‘I’ll call the estate agent, what was his name – Paul Jordan – in the morning and ask him.’ He kissed her. ‘Look, that horrible old man in the pub, that farmer, Albert Fears, made it clear he didn’t like this development. Maybe he and a bunch of other like-minded locals decided to play silly buggers and try to spook the shit out of everyone moving here?’
‘By killing three couples?’
‘Let’s find out the truth about all of it tomorrow.’
‘You really think that old farmer could be capable of playing tricks in our house? Conjuring up a hologram that could speak? Come on, step out of denial-mode and get real,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget what they said in the pub about the history of this place.’
‘I am trying to get real, Em. I love this house. You love it, too.’
‘I did love it. I don’t any more. I wonder if we shouldn’t go and stay with my parents until—’
‘Until?’
‘Until we’ve cleared out whatever the hell is in here that shouldn’t be.’
From out in the hallway a sharp, furious female voice laced with menace rang out.
‘Just try.’