Chapter Four

I couldn’t avoid the old bridge on my way back. 

Typically, workmen were making so-called improvements on the street, diverting traffic and pedestrians. I often wondered how much work got done. The times I saw them, all they were doing was chatting like washerwomen or going over the plans. I seldom saw actual work. 

The work, or lack thereof, was the furthest thing from my mind as the bridge loomed dark and severe before me.

The tunnel looked endless as the gloom consumed the light, and the sound turned to pitiful echoes.

The memory of Matthew and that fateful day surged forward and made my head throb with its aggression. I could almost feel the bile return, and my muscles twitch and contort again. 

‘Be brave.’

The voice returned to me, singing like the seraphim in my ears. It was so clear I turned to look to see where it had come from.

But there was no one, only the leaves dancing in the breeze from the wilting trees.

Nothing but weeds ever grew here, no matter how hard people tried.

I took a breath, almost choking on the oxygen, as I strode forward, trying to feel as brave as I hoped I looked.

But I knew my step had faltered as I approached the tunnel's wide maws, which appeared like the mouth of a waking ogre.

As I stepped into the darkness, I swore I heard voices. It was entirely possible there could be people inside, 

My mother told me that in days gone by, people made extra money by selling goods to commuters when the nearby station was in use. Now, decrepit and abandoned, with graffiti artists the only visitors, the sellers had moved on.

Even thinking about it, I could almost smell the tantalising aroma of bread and pastry mingled with the rare smell of chestnuts, something I only associated with Victorian markets. 

Nowadays, I’m more used to the smell of burgers and old oil frying various fast food. 

The drifting scent lured me in with a siren call. I barely knew I had entered the tunnel until the darkness enveloped me like a shroud.

The sun's tepid warmth vanished in a second, replaced by a damp chill that seeped through my clothes and nipped at my skin.

‘So hungry…’

I froze as a voice drifted like a cold breeze further into the tunnel. It wove around me, chilling me to the core and reminding me of the winter mists on the moors.

‘So very hungry…’

A light flickered before me as if a candle burned nearby. Slowly, my eyes adjusted, and I could see a small group of people sitting around what appeared to be a small stall covered with rolls and small cakes.

The smell joined the cold chill, and my stomach growled like a starving lion. They looked perfect, hot and fresh, and so tempting.

How could these people be hungry with so much on offer? I assumed they must be homeless or addicts, unable to purchase anything. But why torture yourself? You couldn’t stop hunger on scent alone.

I fumbled in my pocket. I had a few pounds left that I hadn’t put in my wallet. Depending on the prices, I decided I could do my good deed for the day and help them out.

As I approached, I saw five people. Two women stood near the stall, and another sat hunched on an old stool. Further, in the shadows, a male figure slumped, gazing wistfully at a cracked glass half filled with water.

One of the standing women glared at me. She was a portly figure with a round but unpleasant face. Her eyes were narrow and set deep in her skull, the creases around them making them appear all the more ugly.

Thin lips stretched in a grim line under a flat nose, and her cheeks sagged. Her hands moved to her broad hips, daring me to approach.

The other woman was a more friendly sight. 

She was dressed in white and pastel blue, and her blonde hair was pulled back in an untidy braid. She looked at me kindly, but her large eyes were sad, and her smile did nothing to alleviate that.

‘Grace…’

I knew instinctively. I hadn’t seen my saviour that day, but this was her. The tranquil yet encouraging aura that flowed from her had been unique, and I felt it now. Only it was urging me to pass by.

Maybe I should have heeded that, but I’ve always been stubborn, and this curious scene needed investigation. 

And how could I not want to meet the woman who had saved my life?

“Hi…uhm, you’re a bit out of the way, aren’t you?” It was hard not to become tongue-tied as the larger woman glared daggers at me. If looks could kill had never been so apt. “I-I wouldn’t have thought you’d get much trade…I mean…”

I fell silent as the woman’s face twisted into a grotesque sneer.

“Luck be luck.”

The words made no sense. But I wasn’t about to question further. I doubted I would get any sensible answers, and I also doubted she would be as polite if one could call her answer polite.

So, I was surprised when she grabbed one of the small cakes and thrust it at me, her face still as wicked as a devil in heat.

I swallowed, forcing myself to smile, the expression trembling on my lips as I thanked her before turning to Grace.

She looked nervously at the food, quickly shifting her eyes to me when she realised I was looking.

“I wanted to thank you,” I said, my voice finally evening out. “I wouldn’t have found the strength to get help if I hadn’t heard you. It was you, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, edging a little nearer. Her feet made no sound, and she moved so smoothly that it was as if she glided over the rough surface.

Next to me, the seated woman lifted her head, revealing a face littered with acne scars and dried blood surrounding a deep cut on her jaw. She sniffed the air like a dog before craning her neck to stare hungrily at the cake.

“Don’t eat it…” 

Grace’s voice infiltrated my mind, but her lips hadn’t moved. Instead, her eyes pierced me intently, wide and worried.

“Why?” I thought hard, hoping the response would reach her.

The only reply was a soft shake of her head.

Before I could even consider taking a bite, a filthy hand reached out and seized it. 

Thick spittle ran from her lips as she opened her mouth, revealing rotting and broken teeth. It seemed she hadn’t seen a dentist in her life, and anything harder than the spongy cake would have been agony. 

I watched in disbelief and disgust as she crammed the cake into her mouth. It fell in sticky lumps as if she could not consume it.

Instead of dropping to the floor in a mush, the globules moulded back together, reforming the delectable treat. Food that she could clearly never eat and there only to torment her.

I felt sick, looking up at Grace, who shook her head.

My heart palpitated painfully in my chest, and I felt my bladder weaken. Thankfully, it remained strong enough for me to avoid wetting myself.

A glimmer caught my eye, and I turned shakily to where the male sat. He was attempting to drink, but the water avoided his chapped lips, returning to the glass.

What had attracted my attention was a ring on his finger—a white gold band with a small red stone.

Matthew had worn an identical one. His birthstone was a ruby, and I knew he had been buried with it.

“Matthew…” My voice was hoarse, my throat as dry as the desert, and there was no oasis to alleviate it. “Why…?”

“Those who feel they hold guilt fear the light.” Grace’s voice whispered in my ear. I hadn’t seen her move, but here she was, right beside me, her cold hand resting on my shoulder. “He will heal, but the sands of time must run their course.” 

She gave me a slight push, my feet feeling frozen to the ground, partly due to the growing attention I was gaining. 

And it wasn’t friendly. It was hungry, envious of my life, and desperate to have a piece of a body now their own had decomposed under a heavy stone.

“Beware, the walls have ears…” 

Grace’s enigmatic warning stilled me even more, except for my heart, pounding so hard that it must have been heard for miles. 

The large woman moved far more quickly than I thought possible for someone her size. Her face was twisted and distorted like the gargoyles in the church.

I ran. My feet suddenly freed themselves, and I tore towards the light at the end of the tunnel, not stopping until the lacklustre sun shone down on me.