*
A strange rattling noise woke her up. It was pitch-black and cold. She realised her back was stiff and her feet felt numb. Amidst the noise, there was a short rustling sound.
‘Oh no,’ came Becca’s muffled voice. ‘I forgot you guys made me stay here.’
‘Yeah,’ said Vicky. ‘I just got woken up too.’
‘Oi, Sani! Stop snoring.’ More shuffling from Becca’s direction as she must have reached out to shake her friend.
The rattling noise had stopped.
‘No, mum, I don’t like corned beef sandwiches…’ said Sani bleakly and presumably went back to sleep.
Lying flat on her back, Vicky turned her head to where the window should have been. She tried to adjust her eyes, when she saw the very faint night-time sky against the darkness of the attic. It was quiet; the snowing had definitely stopped.
‘Is it too early to get up and go home, do you think?’ whispered Becca.
Vicky wriggled her hand out of the blanket and probed until she found the torch. She then shone it on to her watch.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It’s three thirty. Go back to sleep.’
‘Okay. It’s freezing though. Put the heater back on, will you?’
Tutting, Vicky sat halfway up but then thought back for a moment.
‘Wait. The battery died, remember?’
But there came no reply.
The stillness curiously deafening, Vicky sighed, then lay back down on to her side, scrunching her body snugly under the thin blanket. She rubbed her legs together, folding one cold foot over the other. There was a strange paper-like flick that seemed to come from the bottom of her boot.
At first she lay still, her eyes wide open.
No way…
One hand had grasped the torch off the floor, while the other moved down to her foot and, with some difficulty, unpeeled something from the sole of her boot. She flashed the torch on the piece of paper she was holding – the Post-it note with the block letter writing on it. Complete with a piece of chewing gum squashed to the back of it. The note was damp and creased as she carefully unpeeled the hardened gum off, chucking it aside.
Of course, she thought. She must have stepped on it after it fell off the door. And the gum was that sticky thing from the carpet. How funny. Funny it survived the trek in the snow and all the way through the house. Vicky smoothed it out and studied the words. Definitely a good piece of evidence she was going to keep hold of. Maybe question that guy about it later.
She pocketed the note, but as she did, her torch briefly flashed over the floor near her feet, highlighting something square.
Another note?
The beam steady on it for a few seconds – it was the same message.
Keep the noise down. Neighbour suspicious. A Friend.
She scanned the floor, finding two more Post-it notes further along. Same message.
‘What the…’
Swiftly jumping to her feet, Vicky followed an uneven trail of the notes with the light. They appeared to be scattered everywhere the more she looked around. Single ones and handfuls of them on the floor, some even stuck to the wooden beams and some on the walls.
Her pulse started to race, and the torch in her hand shook. She directed the quivering light at the attic door.
It was shut, with the bricks lying firmly on top.
Suppressing a scream with difficulty, she hesitated, contemplating waking the other two. How could they not have noticed these before?
Becca had turned over in her sleep, muttering something. Momentarily Vicky visualised the panic she was about to cause if she were to show this to them.
Trying to calm her breathing, she sat on the floor instead, her arms around her knees. Thinking.
She had to try and figure this out. That’s right. There had to be a rational explanation to this. There always was.
It was just a practical joke. Had to be. They left the attic door open when they were downstairs. That guy must have planted these here to make his point. And when they got back, they were too excited with the New Year countdown to see anything. That’s all.
Yes, that made sense.
Vicky looked at her two friends sleeping on the floor. Both of them curled up tightly in their own blankets. Their skin ashen, their lips blue. The fog-like particles of her breath emitted steadily; it only just hit her how cold it really was. The sunrise was ages away yet.
Shining her torch at the metal bucket, she suddenly had an idea…
‘Come on, wake up! It’s time to go.’ The bright sunbeam from the window highlighted Becca’s golden hair. It was way too cosy and warm to get up.
‘You going to tell us how you managed to get the fire going?’ Sani’s voice said.
Vicky sat up, rubbing her temple. ‘All them notes, that’s how.’
‘What notes?’
For a moment Vicky sat squinting her eyes and frowning; the hazy images from a few hours ago slowly resurfacing.
‘That guy thought it would be funny to leave lots of those notes up here. So I used them to start the fire.’ Her eyes finally adjusting to the light, Vicky pointed at the empty floor.
‘What?’ She gasped. ‘There was a load of them still left over. Heaps. Right there.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Of course there was.’
Vicky shot up, dropping her blanket, and paced around the attic.
‘They were everywhere. I swear.’ She scratched her head while the other two giggled.
‘Funny dream perhaps?’ said Becca.
‘No! Look, I’ll show you.’ Vicky walked back towards them, desperately fiddling with her coat. ‘I’ve got the original one in my pocket… Wait. Where is it?’
‘You had a photo of it, remember? Not the note itself,’ said Sani.
Double-checking all her pockets one last time, Vicky grunted. ‘I can’t find that either. I don’t believe this! I must have burnt them both by accident. Burnt all of it.’
‘Really. What kind of a detective would you become, destroying the evidence, huh?’ Sani laughed and then added, ‘I guess Becca’s right, perhaps a new career goal is in order.’ She winked and pointed at the Polaroid camera basking in the sunlight on the floor.
It was time to go home.
###
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