Sam: A Novel Of Suspense Read Online Free PDF

lives.
    Obviously
being filthy-rich isn’t as great as it sounds.
    Angela
headed over to the en suite at the far side of the room. There was an antique,
freestanding bath inside, made of steel and perhaps two feet longer than most
typical baths.  It looked like heaven.  There was also a separate shower
cubicle.
    A
nice hot bath or shower was a tempting proposition, but Angela settled for the
faucet right now.  The stainless-steel hot tap turned smoothly, and Angela
stared into the wall mirror as she splashed the steaming water onto her face. 
Her eyes were red and sunken; they were the eyes of someone a decade older.
    How
did I end up this way?  My life used to make sense, but now, here I am, standing
in a gazillion-pound mansion because the lady of the house wants me to exorcise
her ten-year old son, who is probably just reacting badly to the death of his
father.  I’m wasting my time here, but let’s be honest: what else have I got to
do?  Besides I need the money.  Booze doesn’t buy itself.
    There
was a knock at the door.  Angela left the en suite and crossed the bedroom. 
“Who is it?”
    “It’s
Frank.”
    Angela
opened the door to find Jessica’s Chief of House standing with a tray full of
sandwiches.  She could tell by his grim expressions that room service was not
one of his usual duties.
    “Ms
Raymeady thought you might be hungry.”
    Angela
took the tray from the man and thanked him.  Angela wasn’t much of an eater but
she had to admit the sandwiches looked good. Without further word, Frank went
to walk away. She stopped him.  “Can you come in for five minutes, please,
Frank?”
    Frank
seemed confused.  His silver sideburns wrinkled.  “I…yes, I suppose so.”
    “I’d
just like to ask you a few questions.”
    Frank
marched past Angela and entered the bedroom.  For a moment it looked like he
was about to take a seat on the bed, but he chose to remain standing in his
usual stiff manner.  “Questions about what?”
    Angela
closed the bedroom door and faced him.  “I suppose the first thing I’d like to
know is what you think of all this?  What’s been happening in this house?”
    Frank
sighed and shook his head.  “I wish I knew.  Things have been…tense.  The
accidents seemed a little too many to be mere coincidences, but I’m sure that’s
all they are.  Mindless superstition got the better of everybody anyway and the
staff all resigned.”
    “Except
you?”
    “I
have a duty to Ms Raymeady.  Her late husband hired me almost ten years ago to
look after his family.  He was a good man and I intend to fulfil that role even
in his death.  Besides, I don’t believe in…well, any of what is being claimed. 
Mike and Graham don’t either.”
    “You
don’t believe in Evil?”
    Frank
laughed and rubbed at the salt and pepper stubble on his chin.  “Before I took
this job, Miss Murs, I spent twelve years in the Army.  I absolutely believe in Evil, but what I do not believe is that demons and monsters
are responsible.  The very notion of an exorcism is laughable to me.”
    “So
you’re an atheist, I take it?”
    “I
believe in flesh and bone and what I can see in front of me.  But what I do or
do not believe is of no consequence.  Ms Raymeady is concerned about her son –
and I agree that there is sufficient need to be – so if you being here will
make her feel at ease then I welcome you and will do my best to make you feel
comfortable here at the house.”
    Angela
smiled at the man and decided that was as welcome as he was ever going to allow
her to feel.  It was good enough, she supposed.  “So what do you make of
Jessica’s son, Sammie is it?”
    Frank
shrugged.  “He’s a good kid.  A little strange at times but I’m sure that has
more to do with his upbringing than anything else.  A child isn’t supposed to
grow up in a place like this: surrounded by servants, home schooled, a father
who was away more often than he was home.  I can’t even