Haunting Harlow (1*+)

Things that go bump in the kitchen

Harlow opened the front door and found a trio of women, who all began to shriek ecstatically. Harlow herself added her own shriek in too as a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Jason, popped out from behind the three ladies with a loud “Oh my word it’s really you and you live here! This is insanely beautiful Harls.”

“Oh my god, Jase. How many times do I have to tell you it’s not bloody Harls,” Harlow chastised, before pulling him in for a hug.

“Best get you guys inside before the neighbours call the police and report a murder or something. You three sound like a bunch of banshees,” She told the squealing ladies.

“Come here and give me a hug you bloody idiots.”

It had been six months since Harlow had seen her four best friends, Jason, Rebekah, Chantelle, and Freya, and she couldn’t wait to catch up on the gossip from back home in Manchester. She had been looking forward to this weekend since they had planned it when Harlow had moved into Loweston Lodge a month ago, and since then, she had made a huge effort to get the house as ready as possible. The kitchen, living room, hallway, and the two spare bedrooms had been redecorated. The fridge had been stocked with plenty of alcohol and the cupboards were packed with unhealthy treats and BBQ necessities. The rear garden sported a rather large, new barbecue area, complete with a built-in barbecue. Harlow had also added a hot tub and a new seating area, with garden heaters to counter the chilly, late September nights, and with the ridiculous amount of tall conifer trees lining the garden perimeter, there would be complete privacy for the five to let their hair down and totally enjoy themselves.

A few hours later, Jason had gotten the barbecue sizzling away, while Chantelle was busy mixing drinks that Harlow knew would be way too strong but as always, they would drink them anyway and regret it in the morning. She couldn’t help but smile as her friends, all in beachwear and trying to soak up as much of the late afternoon Cumbrian sun as possible, were acting less like adults and more like partially drunk teens. It was wonderful and gave Harlow a twinge of homesickness.

She didn’t really miss London, she was far too laid back, after all, and wanting out of fast and stressful city living was one of the reasons that she was in Cumbria. She didn’t really miss her hometown of Manchester, either, for that matter, but her friends, she missed those more than anything in the world.

“I hope you don’t mind us barging in, Harlow.”

Pulled away from her thoughts, Harlow looked in the direction of the voice and rolled her eyes at the sight of Vanessa and her husband, Peter walking towards her. They were loud, outgoing and arrogant and not the type of people Harlow would usually choose to spend time with.

“We heard music and naturally had to follow it, with wine” Peter flashed a brilliantly white smile and held out a bottle.

“Oh, fabulous,” Jase shouted at Peter as he walked towards the trio. “I'm Jase, Harlow's best-kept secret.”

“Worst kept secret and best-kept nightmare, more like, " called the beautiful, caramel-haired Chantelle, as she made her way towards the newcomers with two of her mixes in hand.

“I’m Chantelle, and the blonde over there in the tub, that’s Freya and the leggy brunette with the inflatable croc, that’s Rebekah. Here,” she told them, handing them their drinks.

“Harlow,” Jason asked. “Would you mind grabbing plates for the food”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Peter offered, seeing Harlow's nod.

As Harlow grabbed a stack of plates and some cutlery, she noticed Peter was flicking through the photo album that, despite having last been in the drawing-room, was now lying on the dining table.

“Do you know any of those people?” she asked him, curiously.

Peter had momentarily frozen on Caleb's photo before continuing with turning the pages.

“Sorry. I thought it was your album and just wanted to be nosey. I’ve never seen any of these people before.”

The album suddenly slammed closed and slid, seemingly by itself, to the other side of the table. Harlow jumped out of her skin and Peter dropped his drink, sending the glass crashing to the floor, scattering shards across the tiles.

“What the f**k was that?” Peter asked, visibly concerned.

“I have no bloody idea. Maybe a draft or something. I don’t know.”

Harlow suddenly felt cold and wrapped her arms around herself. Something in the room had changed. The house had always felt warm and welcoming, and Harlow had never been afraid of being there before, until now. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her something was wrong and the goose bumps that had immediately spread up her arms confirmed it. Feeling a deep sense of uneasiness rising up within her, she struggled to suppress the urge to run.

"It feels as though something doesn’t want us in here any longer, " Harlow mumbled to herself, with a shudder.

“Yeah, you’re right. It was probably just a draft or something. Come on. I’ll take the plates,” Peter told her, grabbing the plates and walking out into the garden.

As soon Peter had left the kitchen, the atmosphere in the room completely changed, and Harlow felt a sudden tingling sensation warming her skin, bringing a slight smile to her lips.

Weird things had been happening in the house since the day that Harlow had arrived. It had been strange, at first but she had gotten used to certain things being moved to a different place and the general feeling of not being completely alone in the big house.

It had become comforting, in a way, and made her feel safe. She hadn’t really given any thought to what had been going on, but now, after feeling afraid of her own kitchen, she was starting to wonder just what the hell was happening in her home.

She could see Peter, watching her while talking to Vanessa, who suddenly marched off towards Jason. Something about the way Peter was watching her, wasn’t quite right. But exactly what was wrong, she didn’t know. It was just a feeling that she had. Something inside of her told her to be careful.

You’re just freaked out by nothing. Give your head a wobble, woman. Everything is fine.

With a shiver down her spine, she shook herself loose, grabbed the cutlery, and went back outside to her friends but no matter how hard Harlow tried, she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of Peter's eyes drilling holes into her back.