One Month Later
On the way home from the fitness center, Clay received a call from Claire.
“Where are you, sweetheart? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages?”
“Just on the A14 about thirty minutes away. Why, is there something wrong?”
Clay sensed uneasiness in Claire’s voice.
“Uhm, there was a strange man who was just here. I don’t think he was a friend of yours.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted to know who all lived at the residence. I told him just you and then he walked away.”
Clay pondered a few moments before coming to a logical conclusion.
“Not to worry, baby. He’s probably from the town council. I go through this every year because I’m not a registered voter. I’m sure that’s all it is.”
Clay’s reassurance did little to assuage Claire’s concerns.
Later that night, Clay finally confided in Claire about his recent financial woes. Despite his façade of optimism, he was troubled. Very troubled.
“Claire, if I would have just left my mortgage alone, I’d be fine. I’m two months behind now. Next month I have to come bring my account current, or else,” Clay said as he sat on his black love seat in front of the fireplace.
Claire perched on Clay’s lap and kissed him.
“Clay, I have some money tucked away for a rainy day. I’d like to help.”
Clay was appreciative of Claire’s generosity, but he needed to explain the extent of his debt.
“I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But I don’t think you know how deep this hole is. It’s a lot.”
Claire asked the obvious question.
“About nineteen grand.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“A few years ago, a couple of my books started to generate silly amounts of money, mostly from high schools and universities in the States,” Clay explained. “I knew I needed to invest, so I bought this house last year on a ten-year mortgage. A few months ago, I decided to refinance my house over a five-year mortgage. My monthly payments skyrocketed from three thousand a month to six thousand a month, but the money was there. I could afford it.”
Clay rested his head on Claire’s shoulder.
“If this is a dream, I wish I would just wake up,” Clay lamented.
Claire smiled at Clay.
“Well, you told me you can feel real pain in your dreams. Is that right?”
“Unfortunately, that is the case,” Clay conceded.
Claire stood from Clay’s lap and began to undress one garment at a time. She was completely nude in seconds.
“Claire?”
“Well, we know you can feel real pain in your dreams. I want to know if you can feel real pleasure.”
Fade to black.
The Next Day
Clay received a text message from Claire.
Claire: Is date night still on?
Clay: Yes. I have two free tickets to see the new Expendables film and a Domino’s Pizza coupon.
Clay: Claire? You still there?
Delayed response.
Claire: I’m picking you up and making you a home-cooked meal. How about chicken curry?
Clay: Much better option. What time?
Claire: Around seven. Bridget Jones’s Baby is on Sky at eight.
Clay: Oh, okay. See you tonight xxx.
Claire prepared a world-class chicken curry for Clay. She made Clay promise not to talk about finances for the rest of the night.
Clay overindulged and pushed back slightly from table to unloosen his belt.
“Clay, I can tell when your mind is miles away. What are you thinking about?”
Clay placed his hand on his stomach. “I was just trying to figure out if you’re better in the bedroom or in the kitchen. It’s close.”
Claire balled up her napkin and threw it at Clay. “Anyway, I’ve got some news I want to share with you. It’s good news,” Claire exclaimed.
“Good, I could use some good news. What’s up?”
“I just found out that I won estate agent of the year for Huntingdon, St. Ives and St. Neots,” Claire said excitedly.
“Wow. That’s great. I’m glad you’re getting recognized for all your hard work. What’s your secret for success?”
“I think I have a knack for making minor improvements that have a major impact on potential buyers. With just a little TLC, I can close any deal. Before I was an estate agent, I was a home designer. I’m pretty handy when it comes to DIY. I can do most jobs myself.”
Clay began to clear the table and started the dishes. He was impressed with Claire’s versatility.
“DIY? I love DIY too,” Clay said.
Claire joined him and dried the dishes.
“I didn’t know you were a DIY guy.”
“Oh, yes. Absolutely. I could watch it for hours.”
Claire rabbit punched Clay in the shoulder.
After the dishes were put away, Clay and Claire convened on the love seat. Clay and Claire had been dating almost four months, and although Clay seemed to shy away from talking about past relationships, Claire was not. She edged Clay to open up about his past.
Clay addressed his previous relationship that lasted only three weeks.
Claire had questions. “So after you found out she had multiple personalities, did you break it off?”
Clay shook his head. “Not right away. I got along with three of them. It was the fourth one that got on my nerves,” he answered.
Claire gave Clay a strange look. “That’s just too complicated. I think I might be a little too normal for you, my dear.”
Clay put his arms around Claire and reassured her. “I can do normal, I think?” Clay joked.
It was Claire’s turn to reveal her last heartache. Reminiscing proved a little uncomfortable for her.
“I dated Brian for almost four years and things were fine, until…”
“Until what?”
Claire sighed. “Until he got into porn and became obsessed with it. It just wasn’t me. It twisted him. He had a trunk that he called his treasure chest. It was full of toys, restraints, plastic bedding and anything else you could think of. Intimacy was never spontaneous. It always was preceded by prep time. It just got too bizarre for me. It spoiled a good relationship.”
Clay was empathetic. “Well, you can check my browser at home. You won’t find any porn,” Clay offered.
Claire continued, “I began to dread sex. I remember how much of a turn-on it was the first time you pinned me against the wall and ripped my knickers off. That’s what I had been missing, spontaneity.”
“I figured either you’d slap me or let me continue.”
“That was such a turn-on. The fire alarm in the hotel sounded and you didn’t stop,” Claire reminisced.
“I couldn’t stop, I was so into you,” Clay confessed.
“Indeed, you were.”
After a few moments of reminiscing, Claire announced she planned to have an early night. Clay also had an early start and stood to gather his jacket and house keys.
On the way to Clay’s house, Claire took a shortcut, using the back roads. Claire noticed Clay had become edgy.
“I never come this way at night. I just go the long way,” Clay confided.
Claire and Clay drove past the dilapidated yet infamous Brampton Estates.
Clay voiced his sentiment. “I cannot believe I’m passing the Brampton Estates at night. Everyone says it’s haunted. Why is it always so foggy during this stretch?”
The Brampton Estates was a military housing complex for officers and their families during the early 2000s. It had been home to about five hundred families until an Army captain had returned home from Afghanistan and murdered his wife and three kids, ages three, five and eight. The murders made national headlines, and residents left in droves in a mass exodus. The military had blamed the murders on PTSD; the media had claimed it was demonic possession. A series of strange accidental deaths among mai
ntenance men and building inspectors all but closed the estate, leaving it overgrown with tall grass and trash blowing in the wind. The Brampton Estates was a real modern-day ghost town with no residents.
Claire looked to her right as she passed the condemned estate. “I heard investors bought the land and planned to open the estate to civilians to purchase. I might be estate agent of the year, but that would be a tough sell even for me. It’s got a history, a dark history.”
Among the vacated empty residences, Claire spotted a lone house with a light on in the living room. “Well, apparently someone isn’t afraid of its past.”
“I don’t know how anyone could live there. This place makes my hair stand on end. Can you speed up, honey?”
After a short trip along a foggy and poorly lit road, the pair reached their destination.
“We’re home, babe. Clay?”
“Oh, sorry. Still a little creeped out. I think I felt a presence when we drove by. Did you?”
“Clay, you have been watching way too much Most Haunted. Relax, you’re home now. I would spend the night, but I need my sleep.”
Claire walked Clay to the door and kissed him goodnight.
“Oh, I forgot my favorite earrings; I think I left them on the nightstand.”
Clay opened the front door and hung up his jacket. Claire scurried up the stairs to collect her jewelry.
“Clay. They’re not on the nightstand where I put them. Do you know where my earrings are?”
Clay walked to the bottom of the stairwell. “The last time I saw them, they were on window ledge next to my Rolex.”
“Clay, I don’t see your Rolex either.”
Clay sprinted up the stairs to investigate.
Clay scratched his head. “Now that’s strange. I always leave my watch in this same spot. I put your earrings here so they wouldn’t roll off onto the floor.”
Clay and Claire frantically searched the house several times over to rule out the possibility of a break-in.
“Claire, I’ve searched every room at least twice, looking high and low. They couldn’t have vanished into thin air.”
Claire was equally puzzled and aware of the time. It was getting late.
“Have you checked the garage?” Claire asked.
Clay shook his head. “Why would I check the garage?”
Claire stuck her head in the garage and turned on the light.
“Clay! Call the police!”
Clay was alarmed at the look of panic on Claire’s face.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Clay ran to Claire’s side.
“Your Jag is gone.”