The Book: Chapter 28

Alice’s phone rang as she packed up her things at the hospital. She smiled at first—Mick’s name flashing on the screen still gave her butterflies, just like the first time around. But she froze. He rarely called her at work. A strange, uneasy feeling pricked the back of her neck as she swiped to answer. Alice liked to set a good example for the junior staff and didn’t allow phones on the ward. Mick knew she kept the same values in her office and she hoped nothing was wrong. 

‘Mick?’

His voice was tense. He didn’t say hello. ‘Are you finished? I need you to come over.’

She gripped her phone tighter. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m fine, I’ll tell you when you get here.’ She heard his anxiety in the force of his breath. ‘Just come, as soon as you can, okay? It’s important.’

‘I’m on my way.’

Mick was waiting at the door when she arrived, looking like a man who realised he’d left the gas on three hours earlier. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, and he rubbed at his jaw. When she stepped closer, he kissed her, but it was an absent-minded brush of lips. ‘Hi.’ He stepped aside to let her in and put his finger to his lips when she was about to speak. ’Shush. Not on the doorstep.’

‘Mick, you’re scaring me.’

The air in his house felt charged. It was thick with something unseen but oppressive and Alice recognised the strange atmospheric pressure. Summer was waning and there was a nip in the hallway, but she shrugged off her coat, watching him.

‘What’s happened?’ she asked.

He led her to the living room. She expected to see it, but when it was there, green and ugly, she was shocked. The book had invaded Mick’s home. It perched on the coffee table, its dark green cover absorbing the light and making the room less as it stole the energy, pulling the clean essence of the room into its filth. Alice felt it, closed but undeniably present.

‘It was in my work bag when I got home,’ he said. ‘It’s vile, Alice. I read it. The book is written about me. I can’t believe it.’

‘I can. I’ve been living with it for months.’

‘You? Did you publish it? It’s the only explanation.’

‘’Even now. With the evidence in your face, Mick. Answer this, do I know everything it’s written?’

‘No. I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t get it.’

She felt a swarm of mixed emotions. She was elated that he knew the truth and it hadn’t changed into some innocuous text with no relevance to their lives. And she was terrified it was here. Seeing it in Mick’s living room was the worst feeling. The book had black insidious claws in her partner and she had to protect him. He was in danger because of being with her.

She pulled herself back to focus on what he was saying. ‘It knows everything from when I was bullied at school to losing my virginity in a hotel swimming pool.’

She managed a stiff laugh. ‘See, now that bit I did know. I can’t get my head around this. It’ll use every detail of your life against you.’

‘How does it know? It’s written everything. Me. You. How it got here this afternoon.’ He rubbed his face. ‘I thought you said got rid of it. You told me you’d thrown it away. So how the hell is it sitting on my table?’ He rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘But that’s not even my question. I know how it got here because it bragged about it, but I don’t understand the actual physics of how it was possible.’

‘What does it say?’

Mick pulled the ponytail out of his hair and shook his head letting it fall, chestnut and shiny down his back. Alice loved it, but she felt the book climb into her head. She had to clasp her hands to stop her grabbing handfuls of his hair and yanking what she could from him. She saw it as a picture in her mind, bald areas left scalped and bleeding. She closed her mind, slammed it shut, and told the book internally to piss off. She felt it go. Alice focussed. ’Go on,’ she said.

 ‘Some woman—Sonia Whitaker—bought it from a charity shop. She put it aside to read later and did her ironing. Then, somehow, it called to her. That’s how the book described it. She got up in some hypnotic trance and started reading. The family’s clothes were forgotten but, by habit, she’d turned the iron off and left it safely on the stand. Your book loved crowing about the next part. The iron fell. It landed face down, turned itself on and burned a hole clean through her carpet.’

Alice stared at the book, surprised it didn’t burn the woman’s entire house down. ‘Jesus. But I don’t get where you come into it.’

‘Think about it. She needed a new carpet. And what do I do for a living?’

‘There are dozens of carpet fitters in Barrow.’

‘You’d think. But you haven’t heard the best bit.’ Mick grabbed the book, his fingers tight on the cover. ‘You used one of my flyers as a bookmark. It fell out of the book at the exact time the woman needed a new carpet.’

‘Great, it’s an evil marketer now. Maybe it can get me a good deal on my next car. But you know the book set it all up?’

‘Exactly. It named me, mocked me and called me stupid.’

‘Get used to it. It does that a lot.’  

‘Mrs Whitaker said it was a sign. She called me to measure up for her.’

A chill slid down Alice’s spine. ‘I’m getting the connection, but how did the book end up here?’

‘I found it in my canvas tool bag. When I got home, the book was in it. And I didn’t put it there. Through the chapter I read, it bragged that it was on the woman’s counter and used some residual energy to fall into my bag. It sounds far-fetched telling you in cold words—but you can read it for yourself if you don’t believe me.’

She laughed. It was a bitter croak that caught in her throat. ‘It will probably have changed to Confessions of a Carpet Fitter by now. The book would get a kick out of convincing me you had sex with her. But, I believe you. Every unbelievable word of it.’

She sat beside him, watching the book as if it might move. It had before and she waited for it to show its hand. ‘It wants to be here. It’s choosing,’ she said.

‘Just talking about it like this sounds crazy.’

She hated the tone of inevitability in her voice. ‘You can’t prove anything. It always wins.’

‘We have to do something.’

‘I’ve been trying to get rid of it for three months. It’s my curse. Maybe it’s ours now and I hate that for you. This is wrong. Getting back together was a mistake, Mick. I don’t want you getting hurt.’

‘I’m not going anywhere. And let’s face it, I don’t think that’s your choice—or mine.’

They fell into an uneasy silence. But as they tried to make sense of things, the air shifted. They were both aware of it. And Mick grabbed her hand.

A wave of unnatural cold rolled through the room on an unseen tide. It curled around Alice’s chest. Mick’s breath came in puffs, visible in the room. The overhead lights crackled, their glow flickering before exploding in a cascade of glass shards. The air vibrated in a subsonic hum that reverberated through the marrow of Alice’s bones. Mick pulled her head into his chest to protect her from the falling glass.

‘Hang tight. It can’t do much,’ she shouted above the noise.

‘How do you know?’ Mick asked.

‘It uses energy from people’s anxiety to manifest. Its true power is in the written word and manipulation. It’ll burn itself out in a second.’

‘I swear to God, if it messes with my internet I’ll see it in hell.’

‘It can’t hurt us. It’s pathetic.’

 ‘The book was angry at being dismissed. She felt its fury as they made jokes through their fear. She laughed in its face, but it was a short-lived win. The living room door slammed and Mick pulled Alice closer.

‘It’s okay. Stay calm, or it’ll draw power from you,’ she said.

‘Easy for you to say,’ Mick whispered into her hair.

‘Not easy at all, but I know how it works.’

‘I hate what it’s done to you. I should have believed you.’

‘How could you? I’d have thought you were nuts, if the tables were turned. It made me irrational.’

‘What are we going to do?’

 

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