Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 1: Midnight, Blood Brothers, Songbird

Settling her into bed, she switched on the nightlight. Libby knew only too well how her mother feared the darkness. Not for the first time, she wondered about this fear. ‘Maybe there isn’t a reason,’ she thought. ‘Maybe it’s just one of those instinctive, irrational fears that can never be explained.’

Libby wondered if there had ever been a time in her mother’s life when there was no fear of the night, or the shifting shadows; no pressing need to have a light on in her room. She knew her mother was not the only one to fear the dark. Still, it was a curious thing, all the same.

Exhausted, she climbed into her own bed and slid down under the duvet. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

While her daughter slept soundly, Eileen was beginning to toss and turn. Waking with a start, she lifted herself up against the pillow, her wide eyes scouring the room. Everything seemed as it should be – so what had startled her awake? What was it? Who was it?

Apprehensive, she glanced about the room until her gaze was drawn to the window. With her heart pounding, she got out of bed and ran to open the curtains. ‘Go away. Leave me be!’ She whispered it over and over, her voice trembling uncontrollably. ‘Please . . . go away.’

She told herself there was nothing to be afraid of, but the dark memories – crippling images engrained in her soul – tormented her. He was out there, watching her. Wanting to hurt her. She knew it.

In the adjoining room, Libby was woken by the screams. Scrambling out of bed, she raced next door, only to find the bed empty and her mother nowhere in sight.

Hurrying onto the landing, she called out, ‘Mum!’ She checked the stair-gate, but it was intact, just as she had left it.

‘Mum, where are you?’ Stepping over the stair-gate, she ran downstairs to quickly check the doors back and front. All was secure. She searched all the rooms – even the toilet, where Eileen had hidden before – but there was no sign of her anywhere.

Covering the stairs two at a time, Libby headed for the bathroom. That too, was empty. Returning to her mother’s bedroom, she searched again, under the bed and in the cupboards – but still there was no sign of Eileen.

Intent on calling the police, she turned towards the door – and it was then that she heard the low, whimpering sounds.

They were coming from behind the long curtains at the window.

‘Mum?’ She went forward, speaking softly, knowing how quickly her mother’s mood could change. Confusion became fear. Fear escalated into violence – against others, and against herself.

‘It’s all right, Mum. I’m here.’

Easing back the curtain, she found Eileen crouching on all fours, her stricken eyes peeping over the low window-sill.

‘He’s there,’ Eileen whispered hoarsely. ‘He’s out there . . . waiting for us!’ She made a shivering sound. ‘Get back, child! He mustn’t see you!’ Frantically clawing at her daughter’s bare feet, she tried desperately to draw her back. ‘Come away from the window!’

Libby tried to calm her. ‘There is nothing out there, Mum,’ she coaxed. ‘Please believe me. You’re safe enough here – we’re safe enough.’

‘No! He’s hurt. He knows we’re here. He’s been here before.’ When she swivelled her gaze upwards, Libby was shocked at the terror in her mother’s face.

Reaching up, Eileen grabbed hold of Libby’s hand. ‘Close the curtains,’ she implored. ‘I don’t want him to hurt you – it’s not your fault. Come away, child – come away!’

She drew Libby down beside her. ‘Ssh. Ssh, now. He’s listening. He can hear us, you know.’ Her whole body was shaking with fear.

Grabbing both ends of the curtains, Libby swished them shut. ‘Come back to bed now, Mum.’ Shaken by the experience, she coaxed Eileen to her feet. ‘Has he gone now?’ Eileen whispered. ‘Are we safe?’

Choked with emotion, Libby assured her that she was safe now, that no one could see them, and that there was no one out there.

‘Mother, listen to me,’ Libby said as she lay on the bed beside her. ‘Just now, when you thought you saw something – will you tell me about it? Please, Mum – describe what you think you saw.’ She had to get her talking, opening her heart and mind. That was the way. Over the years, she had been advised by the people who knew best that it was all right to gently question.

Visibly nervous, Eileen mumbled, ‘No, it’s a secret. He’s listening. He’s always listening. It’s too late, you see. Wicked! Wicked, that’s what it is!’ Then she was crying – deep, racking sobs that broke Libby’s heart.

For what seemed an age, Eileen wept – until all the fight and fear seemed to ebb away. Then she suddenly asked Libby, ‘Why are you in my bed? I can’t sleep with you in my bed!’

Libby breathed a sigh of relief at this abrupt change of mood. She played along: ‘I thought we might talk, that’s all.’

‘Naughty girl! I’m very tired. You must go back to your own bed.’

Knowing that her mother had completely forgotten the incident at the window, Libby said, ‘I’ll leave you to sleep, then. Goodnight, Mum.’

There was no answer. Eileen was already asleep.

For Libby, though, there was no rest now. Whatever her mother imagined she had seen, it had somehow got to her as well.

So, what terrible person had her mother imagined? Who did she think was ‘out there’? And why was this person so ‘wicked’?

All these years her mother had been losing her sense of reality, but there was never anything that Libby could not handle, or explain at least to some degree. Tonight though, she could find no explanation for the state of terror she found her mother in. Something, whether real or imagined, had truly spooked her. Libby would not easily forget seeing her mother crouched in fear behind the curtains, convinced that something ‘wicked’ was out there.

A disturbing thought suddenly came into Libby’s mind. What if it was not the first time her mother had suffered this particular trauma? What if she had experienced it all before, and suffered in silence? And what if she had not screamed? What if she had crouched by the window all night long, not daring to move or call for help? ‘He’s been here before.’ Her mother truly believed that.

Libby herself could not accept the possibility that some unknown stalker was out there, spying on them. As far as she was aware, neither she nor her mother had any enemies. So, why would anyone want to hurt them?

These past years, Eileen had suffered many attacks of paranoia, but this time it was different. It felt more real. And what did she mean when she told Libby, ‘I don’t want him to hurt you – it’s not your fault’?

Deeply troubled, Libby turned over and sank into a restless sleep.

Chapter Ten (#ulink_770a7548-cef8-515d-8c82-b31474fd596b)

‘MOLLY !’ LAYING THE receiver beside the telephone, Brian hurried to the bottom of the stairs. He waited a moment, then when there was no sign of her, he called again, this time more loudly: ‘Molly, get down here, will you?! Jack’s on the phone, and my toast is going cold!’

Molly appeared at the door of her bedroom, ‘What does he want?’

Already frustrated with her for having stayed with him longer than he’d expected, Brian thumped the banister with his clenched fist. ‘How would I know?! You should answer your mobile, then he wouldn’t need to call the land-line!’

When she came running down, he lowered his voice so Jack could not hear. ‘Don’t you think you should put the poor devil out of his misery? Meet up with him, for crying out loud! All he’s asking is that you talk things through.’

‘Hmph!’ She raised her voice so Jack might hear. ‘As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing to talk through!’

Brian shook his head in despair. ‘Honestly, Sis, you can be a nasty piece of work when you set your mind to it.’

Making a face, she was about to go over and pick up the phone, when she changed her mind, deciding that it wouldn’t do any harm to keep Jack waiting.

From the doorway, Brian watched in disbelief as she calmly stood over the telephone, obviously enjoying the moment. ‘Are you going to speak to him or what?’ he deliberately spoke loudly before giving a wry little smile as Molly spun round, gesturing for him to clear off out of it. Which he did.

Snatching up the receiver, Molly was irritated. ‘Yes? What is it you want now?’ Determined to make Jack suffer, she called out to her brother, ‘Brian? Where’s Mal?’

‘Gone – as you well know!’

For Jack’s sake, she feigned disappointment. ‘Oh, and he never even gave me a kiss goodbye.’

Brian made no further comment. Not for the first time, he had been shocked by his sister’s behaviour. If he was Jack, he’d have been long gone. Because Molly was his sister and his landlady, it put him in a bad position; so much so that, he had secretly started looking for somewhere else to live. Though, if this development deal came through, he might even find himself in a position to put down a deposit and actually buy a place.

He could see that Molly was just using Mal to make Jack jealous. He had always been aware of his sister’s shortcomings, but lately, he had seen a side to her that had truly disgusted him. He would not interfere in her life, but once he got himself another place, she would hear a few home-truths from him – and so, for that matter, would Mal. His mate was a good bloke, but he was too trusting, and too besotted with Molly, to see what she was really like.