The Influence

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Book: Read The Influence for Free Online
Authors: Ramsey Campbell
Tags: Fiction, Horror
russet houses and the trees that glowed like the sky before a sunset. All the same, the thought of never again being with him while he worked made her feel sad. She’d brought him tools and bits of wire sometimes, but the idea that he might have been locked up because of her made her almost afraid to look at him.
    The car sped onto the motorway as the sun slipped behind the hills. Cars flashed their headlamps at dark cars in the dusk. In the night at the end of the motorway the Mersey Tunnel was lit like a hospital corridor. Halfway through she imagined ships sailing over her head. In Liverpool the van turned along the dock road, where the warehouses were long as side streets and full of tiny unlit windows, and daddy muttered at potholes in the road. Rowan loved being out so late: it made even familiar streets seem new, mysterious. She was looking forward to arriving at the house, because now that she’d been away she knew what it felt like: home. But when she saw the sign outside the house her mind felt suddenly cold and dark. The house was for sale.

Chapter Six
    “Derek and Alison Faraday aren’t here just now. If you’ll leave your name and number and reason for calling, one of us will get back to you…” When they returned from the funeral, several messages were waiting. The estate agent for whom Derek had rewired some properties wanted Derek to call him, and Robin Ormond, Derek’s accountant, was on the tape too. “I’m taking it you’ve had time to bring your books up to date, and I’ll call round early Saturday unless I hear from you.”
    “He didn’t know about the funeral and everything,” Alison said.
    “He’s like a bloody robot, him, nothing in his head but numbers,” Derek declared, his voice echoing in the wide shabby hall. “I’ll do the books if I have time and if I haven’t the bugger can wait. We ought to get started upstairs while we can see what we’re doing.”
    “You make a start while I see to dinner.” She held his face in her cool hands to detain him. “Don’t go worrying yourself about our finances. We’re past the worst, I’m sure we are.”
    He slipped one hand under her hair and clasped her long neck while he kissed her, the tips of their tongues barely touching. “I’ll see you upstairs,” he said with a wink.
    For the first time since they’d moved in, he didn’t feel inhibited. The place was just an old house in need of renovation, too big but not unwelcoming. It was such a relief not to feel as if he had no right to be there that he strolled through the downstairs rooms, opening windows to let out the stale lifeless smell. He touched the chandelier to make it chime and walked his fingers over a few keys of the piano, and then he went upstairs.
    The top floor smelled mustier than ever. It smelled, he thought, dark. He opened doors, hoping to lighten the gloom, but most of the grimy windows were draped as heavily as the shapes that stood about the rooms. There should be a skylight over the stairs, anything to let in more light. He groped his way to the front of the house and pushed open Queenie’s door.
    The smell of old books met him, a smell so thick it seemed to dull the evening light. At least the smell of disinfectant hadn’t lingered. He gazed at the stripped mattress that retained a depression like a pinched coffin, until he realised he was behaving as if he weren’t allowed in the room. He stalked in and shoved up the sash of the large window, and took deep salty breaths while he gazed across the bay at Wales. Thinking of Rowan, he turned to the books.
    He didn’t read much himself. Trade literature was about his limit, except for a morning paper to read during his coffee breaks. He knew the kinds of books Rowan liked: he often watched her reading, her eyes scanning the pages as if she wanted to devour all the books in the world. He was proud of her for reading so much, and now he wanted to find the books Queenie would have meant her to have. He went

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