Crossed Lines
By Andy Morris
The taxi stank of stale sweat and fried food and, if it hadn't been raining so fiercely the middle-aged businessman would have walked from Totton station to his ‘rustic’ Bed and Breakfast. In his jaded experience, the word ‘rustic’ usually meant being out in the middle of nowhere and falling apart. Why his company had booked this place, he had no idea! He always ended up with the worst of everything: The worst office; the worst laptop; the worst business trips. Bad luck had hounded him all day today: First, the train had been late, causing him to miss his connecting train. Both buffet cars had been closed, and now he was stuck inside this taxi with a driver who was so obese, he could almost smell the diabetes coming off him.
As if sensing his thoughts, the driver turned around to ask, “I bet it gets lonely when you’re staying away? If you like, I can arrange for some company? I know some lovely girls over in Southampton. Very friendly.”
“No, thank you.” He replied and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Not to worry boss, just a fought.”
Was this a service the driver offered to all his fares? Or was it something about him that suggested he used prostitutes? The middle-aged businessman was well aware of his awkward demeanour and the way some people viewed him. After a moment's silence, he added, “Err, I’m married as well. So I’m not interested in that sort of thing.” He punctuated the statement with a slight cough.
“Right you are.”
By now the middle-aged businessman was hungry, tired and in need of a shower. He’d been half-expecting the B&B to be disappointing, and he wasn’t wrong. As the taxi emerged from a very long and narrow country lane, he got his first glimpse of the tumble-down cottage. The paint was peeling from the walls, and several tiles were missing from the roof.
Very rustic! He thought sourly, as they pulled up outside.
“Ere, you’re not staying there are you, mate?” His driver queried. “I fought there was summat familiar when you mentioned the name earlier! You probably don’t know what happened in there do you?”
The middle-aged businessman shook his head. He was beyond caring now.
“Well, a bunch of people got murdered back in the ‘60s, didn’t they! One night the original owner just lost it, and he slit the throat of every guest staying in the place. He made his wife watch before killing her last. Very nasty. Anyway, you wouldn’t catch me staying there. No offence, mate.” He added cheerfully. “You know, there are nicer places nearby. I could…”.
“This’ll be fine”, he hated changing his plans. So with a resigned sigh, he unfolded himself out of the car and into the rain.
“I’m surprised it’s still here at all,” the driver mused, never taking his eyes off the old building. He remained behind the wheel and didn’t even check the money when the middle-aged businessman handed over his fare. After a moment, he visibly shook himself as if he'd been in a trance and called out of the window, “Cheerio and erm, best of luck mate," two seconds later, the taxi was gone.
The middle-aged businessman snuck through the front door and paused in the hallway-come-lobby. The dusty décor reminded him of the 1960s. It smelled of old cardboard and, he could taste the dust in the air. Silence hung thick and damp, and his footsteps echoed loudly on the wooden floorboards. The only other sound was the steady ticking of a large black clock on the wall next to the reception desk which was tucked away neatly beneath the stairs. There was no sign of anyone else here, but he spotted a card with his name on it alongside a room key. It was obviously for him. He hesitated, then took the key and tiptoed up the creaking staircase to his room.
This place was totally different from the house where he lived with his wife and their five-year-old daughter. That was a spacious high-end mansion set in two acres of land. In that respect, some people would describe him as successful. It would be anyone’s dream home. Yet despite that, it was just bricks and mortar. A building that he shared with two other people. He’d never considered there to be anything wrong with his life. It had always been unexciting and ordinary. But then he’d met Danni, and he realised just how dull and bland everything had been up until that point.
Shortly after meeting her, he found himself submerged in a new level of infatuation. It was something he’d never experienced with his wife, and his whole outlook on life transformed: Going to the office had always been depressing and something to dread, but now he relished being there. Monday mornings couldn’t come quickly enough. He lived for the moments when he was in Danni’s company. It was these precious few hours each day that gave meaning to his otherwise dull existence. She brightened up his life in ways that she would never realise. Yes, she was attractive, but that wasn’t all: She was smart, funny, easy-going, and he could always count on her no matter what. She was his deputy, his PA, his gate-keeper, his wingman and… just a friend. That was all they would ever be. He would never have the guts to say anything to her, and she wouldn’t be interested in someone like him anyway. But still, he liked to dream.
Danni had been due to come on this trip with him. He'd been walking on air every time he thought of spending the weekend in her company. So, when she told him her mother was ill and, she had to cancel, it had been beyond disappointing. It was a devastating blow, which had stayed with him like Churchill’s black dog.
Upon entering the room, he found the scent of cheap lavender air-freshener wasn’t quite able to mask the tang of old cheese and disinfectant that wafted out at him. In keeping with the character of the old building, the furniture was worn and shabby. Rustic! But at least the bedding was fresh. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed staring at the faded green floral wallpaper. There he lay for a moment allowing the stillness of the room to stir his self-pity. It wasn’t long though before his thoughts returned to his colleague. He needed to speak to her; to hear her voice again. Now he’d arrived it wouldn’t seem out of place to call her.
“Hi, how was your journey? What’s the New Forest Like? I bet it’s lovely!”
Her sunny positivity was like a soothing balm as she answered the phone and, in no time at all, he was unburdening himself of the horrors of his journey here.
“Oh, poor you! Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll have to bring in one of my famous chocolate cakes for you on Monday.”
Her attitude was wonderful; there was no one else like her in the world. The middle-aged businessman was about to ask about her mother, when she said, “It’s a bad line. I can hear someone shouting in the background. Are you in a pub or something?”
“No, I’m in this crappy room. There’s no one else here.”
“I can’t hear you very well,” Danni complained. ThisHer words caused the middle-aged businessman a moment of panic; fearing Danni might end the call early.
“I can hear someone yelling... It’s probably just the telly. What are you watching?”
“Nothing. I don't think even think there is a TV here,” he realised, then shivered as a sudden chill blew in through the open window. The net curtains, presumably once white but now grey with age, wafted upwards in a poor imitation of a ghost.
“This is really strange," Danni observed. "Hang on, that other voice is getting clearer now. Are you sure you can’t hear her?”
“Positive. It must be a crossed line or something because it’s as quiet as the grave this end.”
Danni was no longer interested his misfortune; now she could eavesdrop on something quite juicy. That was fine with him. He pictured her on the other end of the phone and smiled warmly.
“Erm, if you’re free later on, Danni, I’d love to go through tomorrow’s presentation with you just one more time, if that’s okay?”
Danni had prepared the presentation, and it was outstanding, but running through it again would mean spending another hour talking with her. She didn’t answer the question but continued with her commentary, “It's definitely a woman and, she sounds frightened.”
“Really? Okay.”
“What? You're breaking up. Can you still hear me?"
“Yes, you’re perfectly clear this end. Hang on I'll move closer to the window. I don't want to lose you."
He swung his legs around to face the window, turning his back to the room.
“Hello?” Danni’s tone had changed. “Are you still there? The line went all fuzzy, and the woman just screamed.”
Outside his room, a floorboard creaked.
“She sounds terrified!” Danni whispered urgently as if the drama was unfolding in the next room. “I can’t make out what exactly what she’s saying, but I think someone’s after her. She’s banging on a door trying to get away.”
“Gosh.”
“Should we do something?”
“Erm…” the middle-aged businessman began but was distracted by the net curtains as they moved inwards as if reaching into the bedroom. Behind him, the floorboards creaked again, and he almost jumped. It wasn’t the noise that had startled him, but the proximity. It was so loud and, so close it could have come from inside the room!
There was obviously no one behind him. That was stupid, yet part of him was reluctant to turn around and confirm it. Indecision seized him, and the back of his head bristled with irrational tension.
It's an old building, and old buildings creaked. That’s all it was!
“It’s stopped," Danni whispered. "Hang on…”
“There’s still nothing this end.” It was time to change the topic. He loved Danni’s voice and could listen to her witter on for hours, but her anxiety was starting to get to him.
“Danni?”
“She’s back again… She’s crying; he’s here! Get out!”
The floorboards creaked for the third time. Much closer than before, as if someone was standing right behind him!
It had to be coming from another part of the house! It had to be. He'd locked the so no one could get in. Yet the spider of anxiety that had been scuttling around his head now ran down his spine. It left a cold shiver in its wake, along with the question: What if there was someone there?
No, that was ridiculous!
What if it was Danni? What if she’d been playing a trick and she was only pretending to be at home? What if she’d secretly made her way down here?
He spun around like a total fool. Danni wasn’t there and, he was alone. Or so he thought. For a split-second, he imagined he saw something out the corner of his eye. The bathroom door moved slightly causing the middle-aged businessman to spring to his feet like a startled cat.
“He’s there!” Danni hissed. “He’s found her, and he's got a knife! Jesus! He's got a flipping knife! She’s begging him to stop. We should call the police. Wait…"
Danni’s hysteria receded into the background. He needed to prove it to himself that he was alone before he could fully enjoy Danni’s company. There was no reason to be feeling this nervous; he was 49 years old for Christ sake! It was just the wind that had blown the bathroom door.
Slowly, on legs that were reluctant to carry him, he made his way over to the en-suite to end this nonsense and get back to his friend. Just as he was about to touch the handle, she gasped in his ear. He snatched his hand away as if he’d been stung.
“What now?”
“It’s not her…” Danni's shrill voice became distorted by a buzz of static on the line. “…He’s come for…”, the interference swelled again. Ignoring her, he used his toe to push open the bathroom door. It was too dark to see anything, so he stepped inside to find the light switch.
“It's gone quiet.” Danni continued. “All I can hear is sobbing, and… Hang on the line's gone, strange. Hello..? You still there?”
Silence.
The middle-aged businessman didn’t answer. He could do little more than gurgle incoherently, as his throat was sliced open by an invisible intruder. His neck split apart in a wide scarlet grin, and a ribbon of blood splashed over the rustic wall tiles. He too could hear the sound of sobbing now. Someone, not Danni, was telling him that she was sorry. So sorry. Over, and over again.
"What's going on?" Danni asked as the phone clattered to the floor. Just for a moment, she thought she heard a new voice laughing in the background. Then the line went dead.
As if sensing his thoughts, the driver turned around to ask, “I bet it gets lonely when you’re staying away? If you like, I can arrange for some company? I know some lovely girls over in Southampton. Very friendly.”
“No, thank you.” He replied and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Not to worry boss, just a fought.”
Was this a service the driver offered to all his fares? Or was it something about him that suggested he used prostitutes? The middle-aged businessman was well aware of his awkward demeanour and the way some people viewed him. After a moment's silence, he added, “Err, I’m married as well. So I’m not interested in that sort of thing.” He punctuated the statement with a slight cough.
“Right you are.”
By now the middle-aged businessman was hungry, tired and in need of a shower. He’d been half-expecting the B&B to be disappointing, and he wasn’t wrong. As the taxi emerged from a very long and narrow country lane, he got his first glimpse of the tumble-down cottage. The paint was peeling from the walls, and several tiles were missing from the roof.
Very rustic! He thought sourly, as they pulled up outside.
“Ere, you’re not staying there are you, mate?” His driver queried. “I fought there was summat familiar when you mentioned the name earlier! You probably don’t know what happened in there do you?”
The middle-aged businessman shook his head. He was beyond caring now.
“Well, a bunch of people got murdered back in the ‘60s, didn’t they! One night the original owner just lost it, and he slit the throat of every guest staying in the place. He made his wife watch before killing her last. Very nasty. Anyway, you wouldn’t catch me staying there. No offence, mate.” He added cheerfully. “You know, there are nicer places nearby. I could…”.
“This’ll be fine”, he hated changing his plans. So with a resigned sigh, he unfolded himself out of the car and into the rain.
“I’m surprised it’s still here at all,” the driver mused, never taking his eyes off the old building. He remained behind the wheel and didn’t even check the money when the middle-aged businessman handed over his fare. After a moment, he visibly shook himself as if he'd been in a trance and called out of the window, “Cheerio and erm, best of luck mate," two seconds later, the taxi was gone.
The middle-aged businessman snuck through the front door and paused in the hallway-come-lobby. The dusty décor reminded him of the 1960s. It smelled of old cardboard and, he could taste the dust in the air. Silence hung thick and damp, and his footsteps echoed loudly on the wooden floorboards. The only other sound was the steady ticking of a large black clock on the wall next to the reception desk which was tucked away neatly beneath the stairs. There was no sign of anyone else here, but he spotted a card with his name on it alongside a room key. It was obviously for him. He hesitated, then took the key and tiptoed up the creaking staircase to his room.
This place was totally different from the house where he lived with his wife and their five-year-old daughter. That was a spacious high-end mansion set in two acres of land. In that respect, some people would describe him as successful. It would be anyone’s dream home. Yet despite that, it was just bricks and mortar. A building that he shared with two other people. He’d never considered there to be anything wrong with his life. It had always been unexciting and ordinary. But then he’d met Danni, and he realised just how dull and bland everything had been up until that point.
Shortly after meeting her, he found himself submerged in a new level of infatuation. It was something he’d never experienced with his wife, and his whole outlook on life transformed: Going to the office had always been depressing and something to dread, but now he relished being there. Monday mornings couldn’t come quickly enough. He lived for the moments when he was in Danni’s company. It was these precious few hours each day that gave meaning to his otherwise dull existence. She brightened up his life in ways that she would never realise. Yes, she was attractive, but that wasn’t all: She was smart, funny, easy-going, and he could always count on her no matter what. She was his deputy, his PA, his gate-keeper, his wingman and… just a friend. That was all they would ever be. He would never have the guts to say anything to her, and she wouldn’t be interested in someone like him anyway. But still, he liked to dream.
Danni had been due to come on this trip with him. He'd been walking on air every time he thought of spending the weekend in her company. So, when she told him her mother was ill and, she had to cancel, it had been beyond disappointing. It was a devastating blow, which had stayed with him like Churchill’s black dog.
Upon entering the room, he found the scent of cheap lavender air-freshener wasn’t quite able to mask the tang of old cheese and disinfectant that wafted out at him. In keeping with the character of the old building, the furniture was worn and shabby. Rustic! But at least the bedding was fresh. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed staring at the faded green floral wallpaper. There he lay for a moment allowing the stillness of the room to stir his self-pity. It wasn’t long though before his thoughts returned to his colleague. He needed to speak to her; to hear her voice again. Now he’d arrived it wouldn’t seem out of place to call her.
“Hi, how was your journey? What’s the New Forest Like? I bet it’s lovely!”
Her sunny positivity was like a soothing balm as she answered the phone and, in no time at all, he was unburdening himself of the horrors of his journey here.
“Oh, poor you! Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll have to bring in one of my famous chocolate cakes for you on Monday.”
Her attitude was wonderful; there was no one else like her in the world. The middle-aged businessman was about to ask about her mother, when she said, “It’s a bad line. I can hear someone shouting in the background. Are you in a pub or something?”
“No, I’m in this crappy room. There’s no one else here.”
“I can’t hear you very well,” Danni complained. ThisHer words caused the middle-aged businessman a moment of panic; fearing Danni might end the call early.
“I can hear someone yelling... It’s probably just the telly. What are you watching?”
“Nothing. I don't think even think there is a TV here,” he realised, then shivered as a sudden chill blew in through the open window. The net curtains, presumably once white but now grey with age, wafted upwards in a poor imitation of a ghost.
“This is really strange," Danni observed. "Hang on, that other voice is getting clearer now. Are you sure you can’t hear her?”
“Positive. It must be a crossed line or something because it’s as quiet as the grave this end.”
Danni was no longer interested his misfortune; now she could eavesdrop on something quite juicy. That was fine with him. He pictured her on the other end of the phone and smiled warmly.
“Erm, if you’re free later on, Danni, I’d love to go through tomorrow’s presentation with you just one more time, if that’s okay?”
Danni had prepared the presentation, and it was outstanding, but running through it again would mean spending another hour talking with her. She didn’t answer the question but continued with her commentary, “It's definitely a woman and, she sounds frightened.”
“Really? Okay.”
“What? You're breaking up. Can you still hear me?"
“Yes, you’re perfectly clear this end. Hang on I'll move closer to the window. I don't want to lose you."
He swung his legs around to face the window, turning his back to the room.
“Hello?” Danni’s tone had changed. “Are you still there? The line went all fuzzy, and the woman just screamed.”
Outside his room, a floorboard creaked.
“She sounds terrified!” Danni whispered urgently as if the drama was unfolding in the next room. “I can’t make out what exactly what she’s saying, but I think someone’s after her. She’s banging on a door trying to get away.”
“Gosh.”
“Should we do something?”
“Erm…” the middle-aged businessman began but was distracted by the net curtains as they moved inwards as if reaching into the bedroom. Behind him, the floorboards creaked again, and he almost jumped. It wasn’t the noise that had startled him, but the proximity. It was so loud and, so close it could have come from inside the room!
There was obviously no one behind him. That was stupid, yet part of him was reluctant to turn around and confirm it. Indecision seized him, and the back of his head bristled with irrational tension.
It's an old building, and old buildings creaked. That’s all it was!
“It’s stopped," Danni whispered. "Hang on…”
“There’s still nothing this end.” It was time to change the topic. He loved Danni’s voice and could listen to her witter on for hours, but her anxiety was starting to get to him.
“Danni?”
“She’s back again… She’s crying; he’s here! Get out!”
The floorboards creaked for the third time. Much closer than before, as if someone was standing right behind him!
It had to be coming from another part of the house! It had to be. He'd locked the so no one could get in. Yet the spider of anxiety that had been scuttling around his head now ran down his spine. It left a cold shiver in its wake, along with the question: What if there was someone there?
No, that was ridiculous!
What if it was Danni? What if she’d been playing a trick and she was only pretending to be at home? What if she’d secretly made her way down here?
He spun around like a total fool. Danni wasn’t there and, he was alone. Or so he thought. For a split-second, he imagined he saw something out the corner of his eye. The bathroom door moved slightly causing the middle-aged businessman to spring to his feet like a startled cat.
“He’s there!” Danni hissed. “He’s found her, and he's got a knife! Jesus! He's got a flipping knife! She’s begging him to stop. We should call the police. Wait…"
Danni’s hysteria receded into the background. He needed to prove it to himself that he was alone before he could fully enjoy Danni’s company. There was no reason to be feeling this nervous; he was 49 years old for Christ sake! It was just the wind that had blown the bathroom door.
Slowly, on legs that were reluctant to carry him, he made his way over to the en-suite to end this nonsense and get back to his friend. Just as he was about to touch the handle, she gasped in his ear. He snatched his hand away as if he’d been stung.
“What now?”
“It’s not her…” Danni's shrill voice became distorted by a buzz of static on the line. “…He’s come for…”, the interference swelled again. Ignoring her, he used his toe to push open the bathroom door. It was too dark to see anything, so he stepped inside to find the light switch.
“It's gone quiet.” Danni continued. “All I can hear is sobbing, and… Hang on the line's gone, strange. Hello..? You still there?”
Silence.
The middle-aged businessman didn’t answer. He could do little more than gurgle incoherently, as his throat was sliced open by an invisible intruder. His neck split apart in a wide scarlet grin, and a ribbon of blood splashed over the rustic wall tiles. He too could hear the sound of sobbing now. Someone, not Danni, was telling him that she was sorry. So sorry. Over, and over again.
"What's going on?" Danni asked as the phone clattered to the floor. Just for a moment, she thought she heard a new voice laughing in the background. Then the line went dead.