Home. I carefully undress, hanging up my suit neatly. Is there any booze left from last night? No, just empties in the bin. Fuck. I manage one last burst of energy, ripping the whiteboard off the wall and throwing it on the floor, then curl up on the bed. Not even crying. Just completely numb.
I'm in a hall, surrounded by pillars, all carved with huge stone faces. I feel tiny in comparison, and try to make myself even smaller, keeping away from those faces. And I'm doing OK until one of the faces, that of a young man of maybe thirty, opens its eyes, stares right at me and speaks.
"This will cost you."
I should have known last night would catch up with me soon enough. I didn't mean to sleep. At least that one wasn't too horrible. I look at my phone and realise I need to get going if I'm going to make it to Raven's poetry recital. I throw on some clothes, and after looking at the state of my face in the mirror, add some extra eyeliner to try to cover up the dark circles. Once my appearance reaches an acceptable level I head out to Mournweald Coffee.
Camden Lock is its usual evening self, with all the sights and smells of the market. It doesn't take long to spot Raven, pacing up and down in front of the coffee shop in his black trenchcoat. It takes me a while to work myself up to approaching him and in that time he spots me. He doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong, and in the end I just have to blurt it out. How does he know Lily?
He looks as confused as I am. He swears he didn't send that text, didn't have his phone on all day, even though the text is right there on our phones. I tell him I found Lily, and yeah, he gets that that's a big deal and the fact I'm not celebrating means something's badly wrong. I'm struggling to get words out, but manage to tell him the bit about her not aging.
He takes my arm and leads me inside, promising me coffee, and I'm starting to think maybe it won't be so bad until I see two women sitting in the shop. Lily - Lilian, I guess I should call her now - and Rachel. I try to avoid looking at them, but Raven clocks the look they're giving me, and I explain who they are. He steers me to the counter where Beatrice is waiting for us. How many espresso shots am I allowed in one cup? She gets the nod from Raven. One Izzy special coming up.
Raven tells me stories to take my mind off things, until he suddenly stops, looking over my shoulder. It's Lilian and Rachel, there to give me an earful about my actions at the school leading to Rachel getting fired. I don't know what she wants from me, but she's soon escalating to threatening my PI license and finally leaves in disgust. I feel like shit. I never meant for Rachel to get into trouble.
Raven asks what he can do. Stay with me. That's enough. I work my way through a latte glass full of espresso while he gets up and does his show. A bunch of interminably long poems about ravens and sleep and nightmare. Sounds like a load of crap to me but what do I know? The rest of the audience loves it. When it's finally over, Beatrice shuts up shop and we head to the Dev. Lilian and Rachel don't follow, thank god. A couple of hours in the Dev and then a few more back at Raven's flat with his collection of vinyl and pharmaceuticals and things don't seem so bad.
I'm back in Paradise Gardens. Back in the bunk room. Lily's there. No, Lilian's there, with Rachel. And they're so tall and I'm so small and they're towering over me, shouting, telling me I'm useless, not fooling anyone, a worthless little maggot. And the smaller I try to make myself, the bigger and louder and closer they get until they're all I can see and hear.
I have to get away. Crawl through their legs and escape. But I put out my hand and it closes on wet bloody flesh. I look up to see the flayed corpse. No. No. Not this again. Already that monstrous black tongue is extending from a mouth that's distending as it opens wider. I can't run. The two women still taunt me. And the thing is getting closer.
No. This is a dream. I don't know how to wake up but I don't have to stay here. I close my eyes and try to find my way to the safe place. I open them again and I'm there. It resembles my own flat. Bigger than the real one, illuminated in a strange blue light that deepens every shadow. Wallpapered in scrolls covered in Raven's poetry written in gold ink. And where the whiteboard should be, a mass of wriggling maggots dripping onto the floor.
I grip the hammer I'm holding and try to smash them. Instead I stumble and fall face first in the wriggling mass, feeling them squelching against my skin. And then I'm awake, for real this time, on Raven's floor. He's made it to the bed this time and Beatrice is snoring in a chair. A single maggot falls out of my hair and plops onto the floor. I stamp on it, then get some tissue to clean it up.
My own flat is a mess. I pick up the whiteboard and hang it up again, and start trying to reassemble everything. Some things are broken, but in the end I think I've got the key items back in place. Then I add the coffee shop, and Lilian and Rachel. I've just finished when there's a knock at the door. It's Beatrice.
She looks even rougher than I feel. I don't think she's tried whatever shit Raven gave us last night before. But that's not why she's here. She wants to know my rates. I hand her a flyer and put the kettle on.
I'm not cheap. But that hasn't put her off. I sit her down, hand her a coffee, and ask for the whole story. Some arsehole from the FSA showed up for an inspection, and claimed she had rat droppings and maggots. He had photos. Real ones so the fucker probably planted shit to get his 'evidence'. He offered to make the problem go away, for a price she can't afford.
I tell her I understand. I'll check the guy out, see what I can dig up. Beatrice runs a good business and shouldn't have to deal with this shit. She gives me his name - Damian, and when I ask for a photo, a printout from the security cameras. I take a good look at the guy, and realise that I recognise him. There were a bunch of runners in the cult, basically there to do errands. He was one of them. And just like Lily he hasn't aged a day in the last twenty years.
Beatrice can see my shock. She's not used to seeing this much emotion from me, but then she normally sees me on a bad day, or meeting clients. I explain that I've seen the guy before, but assure her it's not a problem. He's not a friend. Of course I'll take the job. We take some time just to talk about last night's show. At least I'm not the only person who doesn't get the appeal of Raven's poetry.
I start with the standard social media trawl. Nothing much there. Forty or so friends on facebook, none of whom seem to interact much. No photos older than about three years. Enough for me to trace his address though. Time to get out the scooter and do my favourite part of the job. He's an easy mark. I hang around outside while he takes a pub lunch. Then he's on the move again, to some dingy abandoned shop front. He heads inside. I take a look around and this place is boarded up tight. Back door bolted beyond anything I can handle, windows all blacked out. The buzzer at the front is the only way in. I'm going to have to try it.
A male voice answers the buzzer. I ask for Damian. Nobody of that name, but would I like to come in? I don't know what I'm walking into. Not until I've actually walked into the plush environment and met the host in his high heels and feathers. Well this is going to be awkward. I let him escort me to the bar. At least I'm looking authentically nervous for a first time visitor. I take a seat, order a drink that I have no intention of drinking, and take a look around. No sign of Damian. He's got to be here somewhere. How am I going to get further in? I don't think Beatrice is going to cover this kind of expense, even if I wasn't freaked out by the idea.
There's a guy in a booth staring daggers at one of the dancers. He looks pretty drunk. Could be convinced to cause a distraction. I pull out my phone, stand by his booth, and have a conversation about how he couldn't find it with a map and his stamina wasn't up to much either. He launches himself at the dancer, security descends upon him, and in the confusion I dive through the door.
Slight problem. I can see Damian at the top of the stairs. If he turns round he'll see me. If I wait any longer someone's going to find me. I just have to take the chance that he doesn't know my face and just act normal as I head up the stairs. And it works. I see him go through a door, and after checking I'm not being watched, I go to listen at the door. Of course there's a peephole. So I watch.
He's in there alone, undressing. But then he seems to start having some kind of seizure. For a moment I think I should be helping him, but then his mouth splits open and some long black sinewy shape emerges; long spindly appendages and a head with eight gleaming eyes. His skin peels away as my heart starts pounding in my chest, and all I can do is stare at this bipedal spider creature standing there. It reaches under the bed and pulls out a suitcase. It takes out another skin. Is it putting it on? And is that sirens I can hear outside?
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