Danny had gotten a taxi back with her and it had dropped her off and carried on to Danny’s parents house. Caroline had offered for him to come in for a coffee, but he’d politely declined explaining that he had to be up early to head out of town to visit other family members.
So now here she was on a Wednesday night in her cold flat, slightly drunk and feeling pretty low.
She closed her eyes and swung herself around to lie across the sofa. She listened to the soft tick-ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and slowly felt herself drift off.
When she woke up she was in bed. She had a slight headache and she was still fully clothed. I must have gotten up in the middle of the night and crawled into bed, she thought to herself.
The room was still dark, though, and she checked her phone. It wasn’t even 7am yet and Thursday was her day off. She closed her eyes again and turned over.
Caroline was standing by the Barge again. Nobody else was around and it was just getting light. It was that kind of light you get when everything looks cold and grey. The snow was falling and everywhere was silent.
She made her way towards the Barge. It was then that she realised she was standing in her nightie and slippers, and her feet felt wet as she sunk into the snow, but she carried on. As she got nearer to the Barge door she sensed something move behind her. She turned around slowly and standing next to one of the bus shelters was a figure covered from head to toe in a pale, grey-white cloak. Although she couldn’t see its face, she could feels its eyes burning into her.
“Hello?” she said, not really expecting an answer.
The figure reached out it’s arm. A black, withered hand emerged from the sleeve of the cloak and beckoned her to come forward.
Reluctantly Caroline did so. As she approached the figure she could feel her feet going numb. She looked down; the snow was getting deeper and deeper. The more she walked towards the figure the deeper the snow became. By the time she had reached it the snow was almost up to her knees.
She looked down and then back at the thing in front of her. It’s hood hung down enough to cover it’s face. The material was tattered and torn.
“What do you want from me?” she said, her voice faltering as the fear crept into her.
The thing lifted it’s head and Caroline could glimpse nothing but darkness under the hood.
“What do you want?” she called again, this time tilting her head down slightly to try and see any sign of a face under the hood.
“You,’ came a cracked, rasping voice from the depths of the hood.
Caroline panicked and tried to move backwards. She couldn’t. The snow was past her knees now and instead she fell back into the deep drift that had gathered around her.
She looked up and saw the cloaked figure looming over her, and somewhere far away she could hear a laugh.
Caroline woke with a start. She was sweating and had managed to throw the covers off in her sleep. She lay there, breathing heavily and contemplating the nightmare she had just had. She stayed there for a good ten minutes and waited until her breathing had calmed before she finally decided to sit up.
Through the cracks around the curtains she could see daylight coming from the outside. She checked her bedside clock - it was 2pm.
“Holy crap!” she exclaimed, wondering how she had managed to sleep for that long. She was fond of a good lie-in every now and again, but never until the middle of the afternoon.
She leapt up and crossed over to the curtains, flinging them open.
At first she was shocked, then confused, and then it dawned on her. The white void-like scene outside was actually snow. The entire street had been covered. It wasn’t just inches deep, though, it was feet deep. Three feet at least. Even the children who had been playing out in it the evening before hadn’t come out today. All along the terraced-house street she could see people outside their houses trying to dig their cars out of the snow or attempting to uncover some sign of the pavement in their front gardens.
Mr Ross from across the road looked up and saw her looking down at him. He shook his head in disbelief and indicated the snow around him.
Caroline raised her eyebrows and mouthed “I know” to him, and he carried on scraping away at the pavement.
There was a knock on the door at the bottom of the stairs. Caroline quickly put on her dressing gown and went down to answer it.
It was Brian Cope, the man who lived downstairs. Caroline had rented the upstairs out for a good few years now, and Mr Cope was someone who she had gotten on very well with and grew fond of. He had a kind way about him. His wife had died three years ago and the house had simply become too expensive for him to pay for by himself so, rather than take in a lodger, he’d converted the upstairs into a flat. She lived upstairs and he lived downstairs.
Caroline always felt she was a good judge of character, and he had proven to be a great landlord. He left her to herself, and she hardly ever heard from him, except when there were any problems in the flat, which was very rare.
When she opened the door he was standing in his usual shirt and tie and his untidy crop of greying red hair looked like it had just gone five rounds with the wind outside.
“Everything okay, Miss?” he asked.
“Hi, Mr Cope. Yeah, I’m good thanks. Why?” she said, folding her arms and smiling down at him.
“I just hadn’t heard anything from you today.” Brian was silent for a few moments and then quickly added. “Not that I listen out for you anyway, but I usually hear you moving about up here and I was getting a bit worried.”
Caroline laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr Cope, I’ve just been feeling a bit unwell.” She lied. She didn’t want him to think she was lazy.
“Oh dear,” he said, worry in his eyes. “I hope it’s nothing bad.”
“No, no. I just had a migraine.”
Brian tutted. “Oh, my wife used to suffer with them. It’d knock her out for days sometimes.”
Caroline smiled. “I’m feeling a lot better now I’ve had a good sleep.”
Brian nodded. “Well I’m just popping out for a few bits from the corner shop. Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you though. Are they even open?” asked Caroline, surprised that they’d even consider staying open on a day like this.
“You know Mrs Wooster. She’d even open up if World War Three was raging over her roof.”
Caroline smiled and nodded. Mrs Wooster had apparently owned the shop down the road for over 60 years. She hadn’t retired. She just carried on and she was always open.
“Well you be careful in that ice and snow,” said Caroline.
“I will.” He jammed his flat-cap onto his head, gave her a wink, a little salute and then made his way out of the front door.
She closed the door and made her way back upstairs.
Later, Caroline stepped out of the shower and put her towelled dressing gown on. She crossed over to the steamed-up mirror and wiped it clear with a towel.
She looked at the face looking back at her. She considered what had gone on over the past few years. What had happened to her to get herself stuck in this rut? She brushed her damp, brown hair away from her face and looked closer at herself.
She wasn’t exactly a stunning, super-model but she was attractive enough, some would say cute (some have called me cute, she thought, thinking back to Steve), but she had always had problems meeting men. They always seemed to bypass her and go straight to her friends instead.
She sighed and made her way into the bedroom. After drying her hair and putting on some clean clothes (it was already gone 3pm and she almost didn’t see the point - she wasn’t going to be going out in this weather), she headed over to the window to open the bedroom curtains.
It was then that she noticed something…not quite right. In the back garden amongst the feet-deep drifts of snow there seemed to be something standing beside Mr Cope’s shed. It was difficult to make out as the snow was coming down thick and fast again, but she could have sworn it was wearing a cloak.
She flashed back to the dream she had had. Was it the same thing? How was that even possible?
Stealing her nerve, she put on her big coat, hat and gloves and made her way down the fire escape that Mr Cope had installed. It went from a door in the kitchen and down the side of the house.
Caroline was careful to hang onto the safety rail as she made her way down. The air was bitter. Colder than she could ever remember it being. Even colder than that time when she was eighteen and had had too much to drink and fell asleep down the high street in just a thin jacket and a skimpy dress. Idiot, she had thought to herself at the time.
She reached the bottom and cursed herself for not pulling on her boots as her feet sunk into the snow.
A sudden panic washed over her when she realised why she was out here. She’d almost forgotten. Her head snapped up quickly to look towards the shed and the figure. It had it’s back to her and was silent and unmoving.
“Hello?” she called out. Her voice seemed to disappear on the wind. “Can I help you?”
It didn’t flinch.
“Mr Cope wouldn’t like you hanging about in his garden.” Caroline spoke as if trying to pretend this was a normal situation, but everything in her experience told her that it wasn’t. Stupid woman, she thought to herself, just go inside and call the police.
She stepped forward one pace and the figure shuffled slightly causing her to stop dead.
“I’m warning you,” she said, trying to sound threatening and failing miserably. She thought for a moment. “I had a dream about you.” She knew how stupid this sounded as soon as she said it.
The thing turned it’s head ever so slightly, but not enough so that it was looking at her. It was listening.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
There was a sound from the top of the fire escape and Caroline turned back to look. There was nothing there but the neighbours black and white cat padding along. She breathed a sigh of relief, and when she turned to face the figure again it was right there in front of her. She jumped and fell back into the snow. It must have moved like lightning.
“Caroline Parker,” came the same rasping voice she had heard in her dream.
“How do you know me? What are you?” Caroline was edging away on her back, her arms becoming more and more numb in the cold snow.
“You are so lost. Poor Caroline Parker.” It seemed to let out a slight cackle.
“What do you mean? Why am I lost?” She hit the bottom step of the fire escape.
Now it was looming over her, just like in the dream, and Caroline could see a little further under the hood. The thing had a blackened, thin face. Parts of the skin had fallen away and she could see bone underneath. Where it’s mouth was there was a row of rotten, jagged teeth and a black tongue. It’s eyes burnt bright-white and it didn’t seem to have any pupils. It’s arm was raised and the same withered black hand reached for her, it’s fingers long and the nails sharp.
“No!” she yelled, trying to scramble up onto the steps.
It’s hand closed in around her throat and she could feel her skin getting colder and colder.
“Please!” she gasped.
She was about to black-out when suddenly there was a yell from the thing and it released her. She blinked, gasped for air and searched for it. The thing was stumbling away across the garden and over the back wall into the alleyway beyond.
“Are you alright?” came a well-spoken male voice.
Caroline looked to the side and standing there was a bald-headed man wearing a long black coat, trousers and a light blue shirt and black tie. In his right hand he was holding a tree branch which had been set alight, it’s flames dancing about in the wind.
“Who-?”
“Please, take it easy, Miss Parker,” said the man. His voice was calm and kind. “I’m the Doctor, and your life is about to change rather drastically.”
To be continued...
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