Coffin Road Read Online Free PDF

nothing I can do about it now, in the dark.
    I drop the map, still open, on the table and go through to the bedroom to continue my search. Here there is nothing but clean clothes and laundry. The spare bedroom at the other end of the hall is in use, it seems, as a dressing room. There are more clothes. A suitcase on top of the wardrobe, but it is empty. Only when I turn to go back out do I see the shoulder bag hanging from a hook on the back of the door. A canvas satchel. I grab it and sit on the bed to open it. Finally, something personal. My fingers are shaking as I undo the clasps and delve inside to find a blank notebook and a wallet. To my intense disappointment, verging almost on anger, I find only money in the wallet. Notes and some coins. No credit or business cards, no family photographs. Nothing. I throw the damn thing at the wall and drop my face into my hands, fingers curling into brittle claws to drag at my skin. And my voice rips through the silence of the house as I raise my head to the heavens. ‘For God’s sake! Who the hell am I?’
    Of course, no one replies, and I am left sitting here in the desperate silence, bereft. Perhaps I am a ghost after all. Perhaps I died somewhere out there at sea. Yesterday was a stinker , according to Jon. And I had cancelled my trip out to the Flannan Isles. Or so I said. But what if I had gone? How did I get there, and what was the purpose of my visit? Certainly not to research a book. But something happened. I know it, I feel it. Something dreadful. Maybe I drowned. Maybe it was just my body that washed ashore on the beach. And it was only my spirit that rose from the sand to haunt this place. Perhaps that’s why I can find no trace of myself.
    I clench my fists and dig fingernails into my palms and know from the pain I feel that I am no ghost. I look up as Bran lopes along the hall to stand in the doorway and look at me. ‘Tell me, Bran,’ I say to him. ‘Tell me who I am. What am I doing here?’ And he cocks his head to one side, ears lifted. He knows that it is him I am speaking to, and maybe he detects the question in my voice. But he has no answers for me.
    Emotionally and physically spent, I rise stiffly and he follows me along to the bedroom. I do not even have the energy to go through and turn out the lights in the kitchen. Instead, I slip out of my jeans and T-shirt and flop on to the bed. If I could, I would weep. But there are no tears in my eyes, just a dry, burning sensation. My mouth is parched. I should drink water. I should eat. But I am too tired. I lie on my back, reflected light spilling from the hall into the darkness of the bedroom, and close my eyes, only vaguely aware of Bran jumping up on to the bed and curling up at my feet.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    I am awakened for the second time by a noise I don’t hear, but which is somehow transmitted from my subconscious to send me spiralling up from the deepest of sleeps to break the surface of consciousness, blood pulsing in my head. I blink in the dark, pupils shrinking to bring focus to the light that falls in a skewed rectangle across the floor and far wall of the hall. And I see a shadow step through it.
    ‘Who’s there?’ I know it is my voice, but it seems disconnected. I feel I should be scared, and yet I am not. I hear Bran issue a strange throaty sound and turn to see him lift his head into the darkness, sniffing furiously. But he has not been moved to rouse himself from the bed.
    A silhouette steps into the hall from the sitting room, and I know immediately that it is Sally.
    ‘Jesus!’ I am not sure why I am whispering. ‘You scared the hell out of me.’
    ‘Why? Did you think I wouldn’t come?’
    ‘I didn’t know I was expecting you.’
    ‘Idiot!’ I can hear the smile in her voice, and roll on to my side as she starts to undress, clothes falling to the floor, until I can see the smooth curve of her hips and the darker circles of her areolae around hard nipples.
    ‘What about