Steven Grant lay back in the bed, panting heavily. His brow, chest and back were covered in a thin film of sweat from the exertion. Mary flopped down beside him in the bed and slung an arm over his naked torso.
‘Fuck. Me,’ she said, through laboured breaths.
‘I thought I just did.’
He looked over at her and smiled. She pecked him on the lips, then got up from the bed.
‘Just going to freshen up,’ she said, before sauntering seductively into the en suite.
Grant watched her the whole way, enjoying the view. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh.
He didn’t intend to, but before she’d come back out, he drifted happily off to sleep.
Not for long though. Grant’s eyes shot wide open when he heard a shout. His head jumped up off the pillow. He spotted Mary – her dressing gown now on – standing by the window, a hand over her mouth. Grant looked at the bedside clock, then back at Mary. It was only ten p.m. He’d been asleep for all of five minutes, though it was long enough for his mind to be foggy.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘There’s someone out there.’
‘This again?’
Grant pushed himself up in the bed, leaning the weight of his torso on one elbow. He was still trying to overcome his sleepiness, nowhere near as alert or bothered as Mary wanted him to be.
‘Well don’t just sit there!’ she yelled.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming.’ Grant forced himself out of the bed. ‘Why were you at the window anyway?’
‘I wasn’t at the window! I heard a noise. Banging. I went to look.’
Grant was still struggling to believe this was all happening again, but Mary certainly seemed adamant. He grabbed his dressing gown before heading over to her. He pushed the curtains aside and peered out. He really couldn’t see a thing; it was too dark out there. The security light at the front of the house hadn’t tripped.
‘Probably a cat or a fox or something,’ he said.
‘It wasn’t a damn fox. I saw someone, on the drive.’
‘You’re sure?’ Grant felt a glimmer of doubt; Mary was so insistent.
‘Yes, I’m sure!’
‘Fine. Let me go and take a look.’
Grant slung on his clothes and fetched the baseball bat, which this time was more conveniently placed underneath his side of the bed. He made his way downstairs, slipped on his shoes and headed out through the front door, holding the bat behind him as he walked across the gravel so that he wouldn’t look like a lunatic in the bright glare of the security light which he knew he’d trigger.
Except the light didn’t go on.
What the hell?
After a few steps Grant tensed and he pulled the bat up in front of him, holding it in striking pose. He turned this way and that, searching in the darkness, the illumination from the streetlights beyond not reaching the drive at all. With every slight gust of wind, and every swaying branch he heard, he became more jittery and on edge.
But he could see no one at all.
Really not wanting to be out there in the dark any longer than necessary, Grant turned and walked with more purpose back to the open front door.
That was when the thought struck him: I left the door open!
He rushed into the house and quickly closed the door behind him, still holding the bat at the ready.
‘Mary!’ he called, not far from panic.
‘What?’ she said, coming into view at the top of the stairs. The strain in her voice matched his.
But she was fine and Grant relaxed a little.
‘Did you see anything?’ she asked.
‘No.’
Grant was about to put the bat down when he heard a noise in the kitchen. His anxiety level peaked once more.
‘Mary, wait there.’
Grant squeezed his hands tightly around the bat and edged forwards. The sound came again. Like a gentle rattle. Something tapping on glass? On a window? When Grant reached the doorway he stopped and peered around the space in front of him. The lights in the kitchen were off and he stayed there for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the dark.
There was no sign of movement. No sign of anyone.
He took a hand off the bat and quickly flipped the lights on.
The kitchen was empty, everything as they’d left it. There really was no one there. It was all in his mind. He was making an issue out of the natural creaks and strains of the house, and the noise of the wind outside.
But then the sound came again, and this time Grant could place it more clearly. He looked over to the patio doors and saw that a loose branch from the ivy at the back of the house was gently swaying in the wind, and tapping on the window every now and then.
Then a voice came from behind him…
‘What is it?’ Mary whispered.
Grant jolted at the shock of her standing right there behind him. He spun and his heart thumped so hard in a sudden wave of panic that he thought it might actually burst out of his rib cage.
‘Sorry, did I scare you?’
‘Yes, you bloody did!’ he hissed. ‘There’s nothing here. Just a branch on the doors.’
‘Did you check out the back?’
‘No.’
‘Could you? Please?’
Grant let out a long deep sigh then nodded. He knew it wouldn’t be that difficult to quickly check, but the fact was, he was genuinely rattled. He moved over to the patio doors and turned the key, then pressed down on the handle. The door released and Grant pushed it open and stepped out into the cold, though only a couple of inches from the threshold. He really wasn’t intending to venture too far.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye… A dark shadow moving towards him… For the second time in a few moments Grant thought his heart might actually explode, but this time he was ready. Almost. The bat was in his grasp. Grant turned to where the shadow was. He crouched, moving into a defensive position and pulled the bat behind his head, ready to uncoil his arms and attack…
The figure came forwards. Split-seconds moved ever so slowly as Grant’s brain worked to decipher what was unfolding in front of him. The bat began to arc forwards…
The shadowy figure loomed, but then, all of a sudden, it was out of the shadows, lit up by the light seeping out from the kitchen.
Grant could now see his face clearly. He pulled his arms back, abruptly stopping the bat’s trajectory.
‘You?!’
Ethan Grant said nothing, just gave his father a crooked half smile.