Domestic

CW: Domestic abuse, animal cruelty

Laura stepped out of Nathan’s car into the bright, crisp spring day and looked up at the three-storey terrace. Nathan slipped an arm around her and pulled her into a hug against his chest.

“Looks like you’ve never seen the place before!”

She smiled. “It’s different now, moving in. Not just ‘staying over’”

“Well, that’s not going to stop!” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Now that I’m in, I might just let myself go…” she said, turning to face him. A movement in the upstairs window caught her eye. “God, is your mum here?!”

“No. Why?”

Laura’s gaze lingered, maybe a slight wave remained in the curtain. “ I thought I saw someone”.

“What’s wrong with my mum anyway?”

“She thinks I’m a little gold digger.”

“She doesn’t, besides, you’ll get back to work soon enough.” Nathan held her a moment longer, eyes on the window, mouth firm. “It’s no-one. Just the two of us”.

Then breaking the embrace, he turned and ducked into the car, struggling with her things packed in the backseat.

A grey, striped cat appeared, walking along the front wall. It mewed as it approached Laura. “Looks like we already have a guest,” she said, reaching out to stroke it.

The cat purred, soaking up the attention.

“Don’t!” snapped Nathan, reappearing with a box in his arms, house keys hanging from an outstretched finger.

“Oh, she’s harmless…”

“I said, don’t. It’s a stray. Keeps trying to get in the house. Don’t encourage it.”

The cat hissed and jumped down from the wall, a slight jingle of a collar bell as it landed, disappearing into next door’s garden.

“Why don’t you let us in?” Nathan wiggled the finger holding the keys.

Laura, smiling, snapped them up and hopped up the steep front stairs. Stepping into the hall, she gasped as a chill ran up her arms. A sound in the air, someone whispering in her ear, made her duck in alarm.

Get Out.

She bumped into Nathan and let out a small cry.

“You dick!” she said, slapping him on the arm. “Why did you say that?!”

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Say what?”

“Get out. Is that some sort of joke?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

“But-”

He cut her off. “It’s cold in here. It’s this bloody air-circulating system I put in; these old houses have damp issues. It’s never worked right. Look”.

He nodded up at an air vent near the ceiling, before leaving her in the hallway. She heard beeping, as he fiddled somewhere in the kitchen.

Laura stepped onto the bottom step and reached up, her fingertips almost touching the vent. There was no breeze.

---

“I never noticed before,” Laura called from Nathan’s bedroom- their bedroom, she corrected herself. “You only wear four colours!”

Hanging neatly within the open wardrobe were the smooth, expensive lines of Nathan’s blue, black, white and slate clothing.

Nathan appeared and leant against the bedroom doorframe, a steaming cup in his hands.

“These shoes have yellow soles, thank you,” he said. “It’s a success thing. All the billionaires do it. Steve Jobs always wore that same jumper.”

Laura rolled her eyes and pointed at the mug. “Where’s mine?”

“I didn’t know you’d want one. I’m used to just making one.”

“You asked me to move in here, Mr Billionaire, so you better get with the programme; tea for two from now on.”

She scooped up an armful of clothes. “I can’t put all this in here, it’ll spoil your whole…” She waved her free hand at the wardrobe, “success thing”.

She brushed past him to the next door. “Is this a room or a cupboard?”

“Don’t use that room,” said Nathan, turning but staying against the doorframe.

“Why? What’s in here?”

The latch clicked and the door opened. A slow shushing against the carpet.

“I just said-” Nathan began.

“I didn’t touch it,” Laura said.

The room was narrow, more like a spacious wardrobe. No window, but a bare bulb cast harsh white light, flooding the empty space. Another door was in the wall to the right, the only detail breaking up the newly painted blankness.

“Oh, so this goes through,” she said, stepping further into the room.

The door slammed behind her. Laura snapped around. Fear prickled up her neck. “Nathan?”

Her breath clouded in the air. She glanced around, no vents to be seen. In the hallway, Nathan’s voice sounded a million miles away.

A shadow darkened by the hall door, Laura stepped back, rattling the through door behind her. Locked from the outside. A pit opened in her stomach. She clutched the clothes to her chest. She had to get out, but couldn’t take her eyes off the shadow. It was coalescing, spilling up the wall, slender and faceless.

A figure shifted forward. A brief, high-pitched whine sounded above and the bulb shattered, plunging Laura into darkness.

Hands fell on her shoulders, thumbs pressing on her throat. The voice at her ear was hoarse, but clearer this time.

Get out.

Laura screamed and scrabbled frantically at her neck, hands tangling in something thin, but heavy, like wet hair.

The hallway door burst open, as Nathan barged in. Light lancing along the wall. “Laura!”

He grabbed her, pulling her into a tight embrace as she fought and scratched at him. “Get her off! Get her off!”

“Laura,” he kept his voice level, “there’s no-one. It’s me.”

--

They sat at the kitchen table. Laura stared numbly ahead as Nathan placed a hot tea in front of her.

“Tea for two,” he said, sitting at the head of the table.

A beat of silence passed.

“You don’t believe me,” Laura said.

“I believe you got frightened,” said Nathan, “the door slamming and the bulb going out. It’s a shock.”

Laura fixed him with a flat-eyed look, and pulled her shirt collar down, exposing the red scratches on her skin. “and…?”

“And you panicked, got tangled in the clothes and scratched yourself.”

Her eyes dropped to the cup. She blew the twisting steam away, sharply.

“Drink your tea. I’ll get dinner sorted.” He placed a hand on her wrist. She shrugged it away and sipped the tea.

“Ugh, no sugar.”

She rose from the table and poured the drink down the sink.

“I was trying to be nice. You’re being ungrateful.” Said Nathan.

She opened her mouth to reply, but something in the garden distracted her. The Cat. It sat primly, staring directly at her.

 “The cat’s in the garden.” She said.

Nathan stood from the table, cursing, but the cat was already moving, leaping lightly to the high fence. It glanced back at her once more and vanished.

--

Laura sat on the sofa, knees pulled up to her chest. From the kitchen came the agitated voices of Nathan’s podcast as he made dinner. She flicked on the TV streaming services, the landing screens of Nathan’s accounts showed more of the same: ‘Be a high value man’, ‘projecting confidence’, ‘find a feminine woman’. Her lip curled, and she switched it off.

Maybe things had moved too fast? A whirlwind romance, just over a month after all. Nathan had approached her right in the street, as she stared into a department store window. She’d just finished her latest researcher contract on the practices of ancient Egypt, and was drifting. At a loose-end, she agreed to go out that night. They’d barely been apart since. She couldn’t leave now, not on their first night living together.

Maybe Nathan was right. Her anxiety had got the better of her. She sighed and picked up her phone. Fired a message to her old housemate. A few seconds later, he replied.

Dan: Sounds scary. An empty room is weird though. Thought he’d definitely be a weight bench kinda guy. All about the optimisation.

Nathan and Dan had only met briefly and taken an instant dislike to each other. She fired a reply, when Nathan spoke from the doorway, “Who’re you texting?”

“Just Dan.”

He nodded, “Dinner’s ready.”

At the table, Laura’s phone lit up again. She reached for it-

“Leave it.” Said Nathan. Her hand hovered.

“You don’t need to be telling people our business. Especially him.” he nodded at the phone. “He’s just an old housemate.”

“He’s my friend.”

“You live with me now. Let’s keep things in this house.”

Laura picked up the phone, Nathan watched her, unblinking. “We’re having dinner.”

She placed the phone face down on the table.

The meal continued. The pan-fried broccoli was good, but she didn’t tell him.

--

Laura stood before the bedroom’s full-length mirror, removing her earrings and popping her hair into a ponytail. The simple snap of the hair tie and the fresh feeling of her nightly skincare, calmed her. Nathan appeared, sliding his arms around her waist, kissing the crook of her neck.

“What’s all this?”

“This is your glimpse behind the curtain, Mr,” she said, smiling placatingly at his reflection.

“No. I mean all this.” He said, lifting the hem of her T-shirt and tugging at the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.

“Oh, that’s right, you think I sleep in lingerie every night. Welcome to reality.”

“I’d prefer it if you did.” His hand slid up under the shirt.

Laura slipped from his grip and turned to face him. “I’m tired. It’s been… a day”

“Come on, it’s our first night living together.” his hands on her hips pulled her against him. He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You really should”.

A slight whistling sounded above them, Laura stiffened.

“Just the air system,” said Nathan, his hands sliding under her shirt again. “You need this. You need to relax.”

“It’s just-” He silenced her with a kiss, turning as he did, to push her onto the bed. She looked up at him. There’d been a lot of tension between them, maybe sex would diffuse it. It’d certainly be quicker than another argument. She sighed, then pulled her shirt over her head. The bedroom air was surprisingly cold. Her skin prickled.

--

That night, Laura shifted under the duvet. As the drafts of the house blew across her skin, faint shushing noises invaded her mind. She groaned, dimly aware of Nathan next to her, his arm across her. Her feet were cold, she tried to pull the duvet, but it wouldn’t move. The breeze drifted up, over her legs. Her brow creased as she pawed at the duvet, her fingers brushing the fabric; why was it so cold? She murmured something unintelligible, the chill settled in the hollow of her throat.

Her breath caught. She choked. Hands were gripping, squeezing at her neck. Her eyes flew open. Faint blue light, from a bedside clock, outlined the room. The duvet bunched unnaturally, as if someone were in the bed above her. Laura tried to call out, but all that came were choking sounds, rasps, gargles. She twisted and turned. Even in the darkness, she could feel her vision shutting down at the edges.

“Please, don’t,” she hissed.

The pressure vanished. Laura snapped up, throwing off the bedding and Nathan’s arm. She gulped lungfuls of air. A bedside light flicked on.

“What the hell?” asked Nathan.

Her heart was slowing, but she couldn’t wet her mouth properly. She rocked back and forth. “You were choking me.”

“Whoa. I don’t think so, babe.”

“I didn’t imagine it!” She was already grabbing up her pyjamas and roughly wriggling back into them.

“It was a dream. Where are you going?” said Nathan. He wasn’t even sitting up.

She turned in the doorway. “I can’t stay in here.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, holding his hands to his face.

“Then who did?!”

The moment hung in the air. Laura turned and stormed downstairs.

--

Laura tramped into the kitchen, low lighting came on automatically. At the sink, she ran a glass of water and drank deeply. The cat landed on the windowsill. It mewed, muffled by the glass. It pawed at the window, a glint showed at its neck.

Laura pursed her lips. “Okay.” She said.

She let herself into the garden and approached the cat on the ledge, it stretched into her touch and accepted her scratches. Calmly, Laura slipped the collar from the cat, it didn’t appear to mind. Holding the tag up to the light from the window, she could make out a house number and postcode.

“That’s…here,” said Laura. “Did you use to live here, baby?”

The cat leapt from the sill and dashed behind her, straight into the house. She turned and followed, scooping up her phone, from where it still sat on the table. She flicked on the torch and called to the cat, a glimpse of tail as it headed upstairs. Laura cursed and hurried after it.

She bit her lip, cringing, as she passed the bedroom door. Nathan lay in the bed, facing away. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep.

She froze. The door to the small room was open. The cat was mewing inside. Laura rocked on her heels.

“Ah, damn it”.

She purposely stepped forward, into the room.

Laura flashed the phone light around the small space, willing herself to stay calm, but when she spoke, her voice sounded strained. “Okay. Little gal, time to go.”

The cat was in the corner. Pacing back and forth, rubbing itself against the wall. No, not the wall. The shadow. A cloud of Laura’s breath caught in the torch beam, billowing and twisting. The shadow mirrored the movement as it gathered around the cat.

The more the shadow pooled, the more the cat purred and mewed happily. Slowly, the shadow began to raise the cat from the floor, cradling it gently. It was clearly a figure now, stroking the cat and rubbing their cheek against it. Then the face raised, and this time, features became visible: a woman. Slight and pretty and happy. She smiled at Laura.

Laura’s free hand clenched and unclenched, working at nothing.

“Okay, I get it. It’s your cat.” She said. The ghost nodded.

“So, congratulations. I guess. You can...move on now… I’ll look after her. I promise-”

The ghost gave her a pitying, gentle smile and shook her head.

“But this is mine and Nathan’s –”

A wave passed through the ghost, like broadcast interference. The ghost’s lips didn’t move, but whispers filled the air. 

Get out. Get out. Get out.

“But why?” Laura raked her face in frustration. “This is too much”.

The ghost tipped her head back; black, ugly marks ringed her throat.

Laura touched her own neck. “Choked.”

“Don’t listen to her, Laura.”

Laura spun around, instinctively stepping back from Nathan’s silhouette in the doorway.

“I told you not to let that cat in.” his voice was low.

Laura raised the torch, Nathan’s eyes were grey, pupils tight.

“Nathan.” She said, “What did you do?”

“First, the most important thing is that I was cleared. Not guilty. As good as.” There was an edge to his voice.

“You said there was no-one. Who is she?” Laura demanded.

“It’s Gemma, my ex,” he said, stepping into the small space, “and she’s lying. Everything that happened in here. She wanted it.”

Gemma shook her head, her features diluting, becoming liquid.

“A slap, hair pulling, a choke.”

Gemma cowered behind Laura.

“I thought I was free of her whining, but even as a ghost, she whimpers about the place. Pathetic.”

Gemma was little more than mist gathered around the cat, almost faceless, but her pale eyes locked on Laura’s for a second, filled with fear. Terrible noises filled the room; gasping, gagging.

“Nathan.” Laura tried to sound modulated, calm. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?! She’s the ghost!” With sudden, easy force, he pulled Laura away, swinging her behind him. “Typical!”

Laura jarred into the edge of the door, wincing from the blow.

“I thought if I got rid of the cat, she’d fade away. But every time it gets back in, she gets a little boost, and now she’s got you on her side too. I should have expected this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and became still. When he spoke, he spoke low and flat, “Okay. Laura, you’ve had a shock, I understand, but I’m going to fix it.”

Nathan reached and grabbed up the cat by the scruff of its neck.

“No!” Laura cried.

She dashed at him, thumping and scratching. She dropped her phone, the torchlight shining up from the floor casting crazy, elongated shadows. The cat yowled as it swung in Nathan’s grip. It raised its claws and sank them into his forearm. He dropped the cat and it dashed from the room.

Nathan wheeled on Laura. Snatching her up by the neck. “Look what you did!”

Laura gripped his arm, pulled at his fingers, but it was no use, he was much stronger.

Laura’s vision blurred as tears came to her eyes. Behind Nathan, a dark, roiling shape began to rise.

Nathan jerked backwards across the room, slamming into the far wall. Laura fell to her knees, she saw the shape hovering above him, cracking like a storm.

Get out.

“I will,” said Laura, “but only if you come too”.

The shape shifted uncertainly.

“You can,” said Laura, a spark of knowledge surfacing in her mind. “Cats can guide the souls of the dead.”

She stood slowly and offered her hand. “It'd be nice to go with her…I bet she knows the way.”

Laura looked down; the cat had returned, and it bunted against her legs. She reached down and scooped it up, it purred in her arms.

The shape solidified into Gemma, then reached down and lifted something from the floor. She drifted up to Laura and scratched the cat between the ears. She smiled and clipped the collar back into place. Then vanished. The collar bell gave a slight ring.

“Come on,” said Laura, “Let’s get out of here”.