The Room of Arches Read online

  Upstairs I heard a door opening and then lots of parting comments. Then two sets of feet made their way downstairs. The two women, Laura and Christine, were coming back. And I was alone. This was my chance.

  I dashed from the small reception to the bottom of the stairs to intercept them. I held up my hands to halt their progress. Both women stopped on the step and stared at me like I was a crazy woman. I shook myself and opened my mouth. “Christine, is it? I hoped I could have a minute.” I gestured to the reception like it was my office. Hesitantly, she glanced at her friend and then nodded, following me into the room. Laura came in and we all took a seat, the two women looking at each other, then at me.

  “I know this is a bit out of the ordinary,” I started, my attention focused on Christine. “I’m Peyton and I work here part-time as a receptionist.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, crossing her right leg over her left. Beside her, Laura sat with her arms crossed.

  “The last time you were in I heard you talking about a house.”

  “What does that have to do with you?” Laura asked.

  “Let her finish,” Christine went on.

  I mentally thanked her. “I couldn’t help but overhear you both talking. You said something about the house you’re hoping to get from your husband.”

  “Soon to be ex-husband,” she remarked, her lip curling in distaste at the mention. “And yes. Why?”

  “You said something about some old superstition.”

  “Yeah.” Her defences dropped slightly. “I’ve lived there with Tom for seven years. He moved me in when we got together. I was warned about the place, even then.”

  “Warned?” I frowned.

  “Not just by one person either. It seems the locals know an awful lot about the house, or thought they did anyway. There were rumours about it.”

  “What sort of rumours?”

  “That it’s haunted. There was a lot of talk about Tom having lived there for a long time alone with a string of women. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I was his first so it didn’t bother me. I thought it was jealousy talking, if I’m telling the truth.”

  “And do you think it is?”

  “Haunted?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She laughed. It came out a nervous bray like even talking about it out loud was stupid. That was how it usually started and in my experience, it could mean there was something going on.

  “I hate to impose but I have a bit of experience in this field, if you’d like me to come and take a look.” I don’t know what was drawing me to this house so much, or the story. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to help this woman. Oakley was helping her secure the house, I wanted to make sure she lived there happy and content. She couldn’t very well do that if it was haunted.

  “You a ghost hunter or something?” Laura spat. I had to give it to the woman, she was as quick as Olivia and I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of her.

  “Not exactly,” I answered. “Just . . . aware.”

  “So how can you help?” Christine asked.

  “I don’t know yet. But if you let me take a look I can see what I can do.”

  She pulled her lips together as she thought about my offer. I could almost see it running through her mind. With Laura sitting beside her sending out the bad vibes, I couldn’t help but feel the answer would be an automatic no. I somehow didn’t think she would approve.

  “Okay.” She nodded finally. “Are you free this weekend?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Tom is moving this week and all of his belongings will be gone. I think that’s as good a time as any. I’m getting the house so I may as well make sure it’s clear and everything before I make it my own.”

  Taking a notebook out of her bag, she scribbled down the address alongside a phone number. “There’s my info. You can come around ten?”

  “Sure.” I nodded. “That’ll just be to take a quick look, though. If I sense anything, I would have to come back at night.”

  “Don’t tell me ghosts only come in the dark.” Laura rolled her eyes.

  “Of course not.” I shook my head. “It’s just night is the easiest time for them to cross the veil.”

  When Olivia returned it was with a cardboard cup and a doughnut. She handed them over and promptly apologised. “I’m sorry for what I said before. I think I just got wound up.”

  “That’s okay. Coffee makes everything better.” I grinned and took a sip of the milky liquid, setting it down to admire my sugary treat. Boy, did she know how to apologise.

  She dropped into her chair. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I made you sound like a whore, which you’re not.”

  “Thanks for that.” I took a bite of the doughnut and sighed. It tasted so good and there was no way I could stay mad at her. I swallowed and then took another sip of my coffee. “Good choice of doughnut by the way. Also, if you don’t want to talk about your relationship status, that’s fine.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. I think I’m getting it in all directions at the minute.”

  “What do you mean?” I frowned. As far as I knew, I was the only person in Olivia’s inner circle.

  “Aunt Theresa. She’s going on and on as if I’m an old maid. I think she’s sure I’m going to end up a spinster.”

  I waved my hand. “There’s still plenty time to find your prince. What’s the rush?”

  “That’s what I tell her, but she likes to remind me that the good ones are taken. She raised me to be wary of men, to expect that they’re only after one thing, and this is where it gets me. I’m in my early twenties and still never been in a proper relationship.”

  “You’ve dated though.”

  “Yeah. Dated. And it’s never gone right. I think I’m too picky.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being picky.”

  “There is if you reject everyone who shows you a bit of attention.”

  “Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, maybe men aren’t your thing.” I sipped my coffee innocently. I had mentioned it more than once before and always gotten the same answer. There was no harm in letting her know it was okay.

  “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not a lesbian, Peyton. I like men.”

  “Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. “If you were there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it.”

  “I know that.” She nodded. “But I like men. End of.”

  “Me too.” I nodded. My problem was I liked men way too much, or at least the alcoholic Peyton had. There were plenty of times I’d woken up with someone in my bed with no recollection of the night before. As much as I liked men, being single was the way forward for me right now. It made things less complicated, but if Olivia was under pressure to meet someone then maybe it was time I started helping her actively look. “Oh, I have an idea!”

  “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  “I think we should do a speed dating thing.”

  “Speed dating?” She stared at me with wide eyes and the expression she wore said it all.

  “We’ll both go. It’ll be fun.” I grinned. “I mean, I’m not looking, but it’s been ages since we’ve gone out and done something together and it kills two birds with one stone. Tell Aunt Theresa you’re going and she’ll get off your case.”

  “You do realise if I tell her the likelihood is she’ll turn up in the hall and watch me go around and score the points herself.”

  “Maybe that’s not a bad thing. She does have a good eye for men, maybe just good matches in general. She always she said liked Jessica. And Uncle Jim is a catch.”

  “She didn’t pick Jessica, Pete did. And he wouldn’t bring her home for months.”

  “All because of Aunt Theresa?”

  “She’s a good woman, but she’s over the top and very domineering at times.”

  “Okay then, maybe we’ll leave confessional out until afterwards.” Olivia frowned. �
��Or not at all.”

  “That sounds better.” She nodded.

  “So you’ll do it?” I beamed.

  “I guess I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  “I’ll sign us up!”

  I ignored the exasperated sigh coming from beside me as I logged onto my phone and typed into the search engine. Speed dating—I knew it would be fun.

  Friday night came and nerves hit my stomach like a bottle of fizz. I could have done with a drink then as I thought about what was coming. I’d said it would be fun. God knows why I used that word when I thought about being stuck in a room full of men with a few minutes to fit my whole life into with each. Fun wasn’t the word. Hell, maybe. I took a deep breath and quelled the rising panic, shoving it down into the depths of my stomach. I wasn’t doing this for me. There was no way I needed a man in my life right now. But Olivia was clearly ready to find Mr. Right and I would be the good friend that I was and help her. Speed dating wasn’t likely to find her any sort of prince charming but this was just the start, and it would be fun and games from here.

  “Do we really have to do this?” Olivia moaned, glancing at herself in the mirror hanging over the fireplace.

  I took a few seconds to check myself out. I had made more of an effort with my appearance. With a light spattering of powder, some lipstick that warmed me up and a hint of eyeshadow, I felt nice. My hair was down and straight, hanging to my bare shoulders, and I wore a pair of black skinny jeans that curved in all the right places. Not bad if I did say so myself.

  “We’re doing this.” I turned to my best friend. “This is for your own good. Consider it an intervention.”

  “You do know intervention means to prevent something, right?”

  I shrugged. “In this case it’s the prevention of your spinsterhood.”

  “Oh, great.” She ran her fingers through her hair. She too had dressed for the occasion and wore skinny grey jeans and a small vest top. She had applied a little makeup, her lips shiny with lip gloss, and instead of the glasses she normally wore she had contacts in. Seeing her without was like seeing an entirely different person. “I feel like a teenager again. I hate this.”

  “What do we have to lose?”

  “Our dignity.”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt, but I couldn’t give in to her worries. If I agreed with her she’d turn around and cancel the whole thing.

  “Whatever you say.”

  We took the bus on Olivia’s insistence. Even though I wasn’t drinking, she figured she needed something to keep the nerves at bay, and I still didn’t have Thumper up and running.

  Going speed dating worried me. Not just because it would be full of men scoring us and deciding if anyone made a good fit that night, but because it was the first time I would be around drinkers again. I was under no illusion that people went to these sorts of things without being a little merry and I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bar. This would be my first big test.

  The bus journey was short and most of it spent in nervous chatter. I can’t even remember what we talked about when the bus pulled into our stop. “That must be the place.” Olivia pointed at a building wedged in between two bars. The lights were low and a huge banner outside announced that speed dating was inside.

  “Great. What a warm welcome,” I grumbled. “It may as well say ‘hopeless romantics inside.’”

  “Hey, you’ve changed your tune.”

  “And I think you’ve changed yours.”

  I was not prepared for this at all and already I was worried the alcohol would take precedence. I took a deep breath and hooked my arm around Olivia’s as my stomach went wild. “You ready for this?”

  “Not at all.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I grinned, dragging her toward the door. I just had to stay calm. It would be fine. I could do this.

  Grabbing the handle, I stepped inside, keeping a firm grasp on Olivia to make sure she couldn’t run. Inside we were greeted by a woman dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. Her legs were long and below the hem of the skirt, where it stopped at the knee, I saw the best tan I had ever seen.

  “Hello, ladies,” she greeted us with a warm smile, her teeth dazzling. She clutched the clipboard in her arms a little tighter. “Are you here for the speed dating?”

  “No—”

  “Yes, we are,” I cut Olivia off, elbowing her in the ribs and ignoring the frown the woman displayed.

  “Names, please.”

  “Peyton and Olivia,” I told her, watching as she scrolled down the paper with her pen in hand and ticked off our names.

  “Great. I’m Jana and I’m the host for the ladies tonight. If you’d just like to follow me this way.” She motioned with her perfectly manicured nails—nails that I knew I could never have in a million years—and strode through a partially open door. Inside, I found we were in a room with several other women. All heads snapped toward the newcomers and for a second I had the image of them as feral cats, pouncing on their opponents. Each one of them wore the same sort of nervous expression I’m sure we had—rabbits caught in headlights. I offered a weak smile at nobody in particular and turned to look at Jana again.

  “We have the ladies all wait here until the men arrive. Then, when we’re ready, we’ll get you all set up in the room. The ladies stay seated while the men rotate every five minutes.” She beamed, the excitement shining from her eyes. “There are some drinks going around so help yourself. It’s good for the nerves.” She leaned forward and laughed, her hand coming to rest on my forearm. I laughed with her but it was forced. She was offering me free alcohol and providing me with an excuse.

  As soon as she had walked off, her heels clicking on the floor, ready to greet more women coming through the door to herd us like cattle ready for the slaughter, Olivia’s eyes snapped to me. I knew she was assessing, worried that I would make a fatal mistake, wondering if we should get out of there now. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and smiled. “I’m okay,” I told her.

  “You are?”

  I nodded. “I don’t need a—”

  “Drink ladies?” A woman held a silver tray in one hand full of wine glasses with sparkling white popping bubbles.

  For a second we both hesitated. I had the urge to thrust myself forward into her arms and slobber all over the glasses, taking what I could. It looked like Olivia wanted to flip the tray over completely taking away the temptation.

  “Go on, Olivia,” I urged. “You need it.”

  She eyed me for a second and then reached forward and took a glass, instantly taking a drink. I saw her shoulders sag. “Thank you.”

  The woman’s eyes shifted to me. “Oh, I don’t drink. But thank you.”

  “Okay.” She looked a little taken aback. Maybe it was a rare occurrence for women in this game to refuse a drink. I felt like I needed one—speed dating was stressful, and that was before it had even begun—but there was no way I was risking my recovery. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Water would be good.”

  She nodded and walked away.

  “Well done,” Olivia complimented me.

  “I’m not a rabid beast you know. I know how to say no.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know but that can’t have been easy.”

  “I guess not.” I was making it sound easy but as I watched the woman waltz around the room with her tray of forbidden fruit, my mouth watered. I was a like a dog trained to drool when food was near. Three-and-a-half-months sober and it still had that effect on me. Just being near it made the temptation all that bigger. Maybe I wasn’t as okay as I thought. Maybe I was only coping because alcohol wasn’t within reaching distance constantly. I decided I would attend another meeting this week.

  My eyes slid around the room to the other women there. I saw women of all shapes and sizes dressed in their best and ready to impress. I felt underdressed in my jeans and top when I saw others were dressed up completely. They wore dresses that clung t
o their figures and accentuated their assets. I wondered how many of them were wearing underwear that sucked them in or padded bras to give a lift. Or maybe even none at all. Looking down, I saw my willowy form and sighed. I’d put a lot of weight on since quitting the drink so I no longer looked skeletal but I wouldn’t say I was in any way a good catch. Not compared to some of the other women who had clearly put in a lot of effort for five minutes with a guy.

  As I stood there gawping at the other women in the room and comparing myself to each and every one of them, I found myself wondering whether speed dating actually worked. I mean, spending all of five minutes with a guy wasn’t exactly a good indicator of whether they were marriage material. Judging by the keen looks some of the women sported, I knew that’s exactly what they were hoping to find. I wasn’t even convinced any of this would amount to first date material.

  Everyone had come in twos, at least, some with more than others. Groups of women stood together chatting, grinning and all of them enjoying a glass of wine to loosen the mood. I had nothing but the wrought-up tension that pitted in my stomach and the dry mouth that came with the anxiety. It hit me then that I could never drink again. Not even in a social situation. I was not the sort of person who could just have one drink and then put it down. Once I had the taste for it I wanted more and that would forever be ingrained in my mind—my taste buds. Even just the smell of it could set me off salivating. I knew that would go away eventually but not for a very long time. I had to retain complete abstinence to keep up my sobriety.

  “Okay, ladies.” Jana walked back into the room clapping her hands together. Her voice carried over the room and the chatter died down quickly. Everyone turned toward her, waiting and expectant. She cast her eye across the room, her smile dazzling. “It’s almost time.” A chorus of squeals sounded around the room followed by giggling. Some of the women could barely stand still, hopping from one foot to the other. “Carly is going to be handing you scorecards and a pencil. Each guy is numbered, so beside that number, you can give them a score out of ten. If there’s a guy you want to make contact with at the end of the night we can arrange that or vice versa, you might get asked out by one of them.” She grinned and behind me I heard laughter ripple through the crowd. One woman stamped her feet, heels clicking loudly on the floor. I wondered how much she’d had to drink.