Familiar Spirit

Sarah grimaced. No, of course he hadn’t. If he had meant to hurt her it might have been easier to bear. She detected the hand of Melanie in this call: on his own, it would not have occurred to Brian that he owed her an apology.

“All right,” she said. “I overreacted. Apology accepted.”

“Great.” She could almost see his smile. “So you don’t mind us moving into your house?”

She stiffened. “Yes, I would mind.”

“So you are carrying a grudge.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Sarah, you’ve only been there a few weeks and you want to move out. How much sentiment can you feel for it? Why should it make any difference to you if total strangers move in or if we do?”

Sarah sighed. “Brian, believe me, there is a reason. Don’t you wonder why I’m moving out of this great house?”

“Well . . . like you said. It’s awfully big for one person, and it’s kind of out of the way.”

She closed her eyes. “No, Brian. I didn’t say that. You said that.” But she hesitated. If he really didn’t know—

“So what is it? Bad plumbing?”

“The girl who lived here before I did. She was crazy. And she killed herself.”

Interest sharpened his voice. “It’s haunted?”

“No!” Too vehement. Sarah bit her lip. “No, Brian. She killed herself just last week. While I was living here. She came over here with a big knife in her purse and she cut her throat right in front of me.”

“My God,” Brian said, sounding awed. “She probably meant to kill you.”

Sarah said nothing.

“Oh, wow,” he said softly. “I see . . . I understand. I’m sorry, Sarah. It must have been awful for you.”

Sarah shrugged and said nothing.

“But, Sarah, there’s no reason for us not to move in. I mean, horrible as it was for you . . . the house isn’t going to stand empty. Somebody is going to move in. I’m sure there are apartments and houses all over town where people have died and other people go on living there. The idea doesn’t disturb me at all.”

“What about Melanie?”

“Huh?”

“She might not like the idea.”

“I’m sure she’ll agree with me. She’ll like the house once she sees it.”

Of course, thought Sarah. Melanie would go to hell on vacation if you asked her to. And agree with you that it was a great resort, if a trifle too hot. She felt tired of the argument, and tired of Brian.

“Look,” she said. “Just forget it, please. There are plenty of houses in Austin. I’m sure you and Melanie can find one you’ll like a lot better than mine.”

“It’s not like you to be so selfish, Sarah,” he said angrily. “I’m not asking you to make some huge sacrifice. All I want to know is the name of your landlord. You don’t even have to recommend us.”

“I haven’t even told her I’m moving out,” Sarah said. “When I do . . . I’ll give her your name.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it. Her name is Mrs. Owens. She’s probably out of the hospital by now—she had a stroke. She’d prob­ably be grateful to me for finding a new tenant, to save her the trouble.” As she spoke, Sarah could see Valerie’s thin face and sly smile as she told her the same thing.

“That’s great of you, Sarah,” Brian said, making his voice humble. “I knew you’d understand.”

Sarah made a face and saw it reflected, distorted, in the glass in the kitchen door.

“When were you going to move out?”

“I don’t know. As soon as I can. Maybe within a week. Just as soon as I’ve got a place to move to.”

“That’s great,” Brian said again, meaninglessly. “I’ll talk to you about it some more later, okay? I really appreciate this, you know. We both do.”

The “both” stung, but she tried not to mind it. As she hung up, Sarah had a sudden, vivid image of Melanie—fragile, childlike Melanie—standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, body twisted and tormented, her face a mask of pain and fear. She saw a bloody knife; saw a line of scarlet blossom at her throat.

Hatred, a feeling as hot and sweet as pleasure, rushed through her. How she would love to see that, to see Melanie in agony, destroyed. As quickly as the desire had come it was gone, and Sarah felt weak with shame. It was natural to resent Melanie, natural to want revenge, but she couldn’t let herself think about that—she didn’t really want that—not for Melanie or anyone.

The unexpected violence of her emotion left her feeling shaky, and she looked around uneasily, wondering if she had been wrong to give in to Brian. But Jade was gone, she told herself. He was dead. The house was empty, empty and safe. Brian and Melanie would be perfectly safe here; just as safe as anyone else who lived here. She would be safe herself, but she did not choose to stay.