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Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for The House of Whispers
  3. Title Page
  4. Note to Readers
  5. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  19. Twelve
  20. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  32. Twenty-One
  33. Twenty-Two
  34. Twenty-Three
  35. Twenty-Four
  36. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  37. Twenty-Five
  38. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  39. Twenty-Six
  40. Twenty-Seven
  41. Twenty-Eight
  42. Twenty-Nine
  43. Thirty
  44. Thirty-One
  45. Thirty-Two
  46. Thirty-Three
  47. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  48. Thirty-Four
  49. Thirty-Five
  50. Thirty-Six
  51. Thirty-Seven
  52. Thirty-Eight
  53. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  54. Thirty-Nine
  55. Forty
  56. Forty-One
  57. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  58. Forty-Two
  59. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  60. Forty-Three
  61. Forty-Four
  62. Forty-Five
  63. Forty-Six
  64. Forty-Seven
  65. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  66. Forty-Eight
  67. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  68. Forty-Nine
  69. Fifty
  70. Fifty-One
  71. Fifty-Two
  72. Fifty-Three
  73. Fifty-Four
  74. Fifty-Five
  75. Fifty-Six
  76. Fifty-Seven
  77. Fifty-Eight
  78. Fifty-Nine
  79. Sixty
  80. Priory Hospital North London: 20 December 2019
  81. Acknowledgements
  82. About the Publisher

‘The house?’

‘Yes. It’s an old house – Victorian. My mother was – is – convinced that energy remains in old houses unless you take steps to remove it. She felt that our house was full of negative energy and that this was quite possibly the cause of the problems Abi was having. Apparently it was worse because Abi was there alone, without me to protect her. Though God knows how I would have done that because I really don’t see myself as someone who can ward off evil spirits.’ [laughs]

‘And what did you think of that theory?’

[Laughs] ‘What do you think? I thought it was ridiculous. Abi was just working really hard. She hardly ever went out, let alone did any exercise. She drank way too much alcohol. Of course that was going to have an effect on her.’

‘And did that bother you?’

‘Grace was there. And it was only a temporary phase. Only until she finished the paintings. Then everything would get back on track. So, of course I was concerned, but not overly. I’m not a worrier.’

Forty-Three

Given the Allertons talked about me even when I was present, and especially given what had gone on at lunch, I had no qualms excusing myself the moment we’d finished dessert, claiming I had to work. Which I did. But the wine and rich food had had an effect, and my eyes were heavy. I cleared the mess off the small sofa in the attic, flopped down onto it and let my mind drift.

Within moments I was standing on a beach, not unlike the one I’d seen on Grace’s Instagram, but, as I stood there breathing in the fresh sea air, absorbing the sight of the dunes and feeling the wind in my hair, I realized something was missing: I couldn’t hear the swoosh and crash of the waves. I turned to face the ocean only to see that the water had been sucked out further than I could see, and that the sand I stood on was waterlogged; dark sand that was never usually exposed to the sun. It was littered with the carcasses of dying fish.

With a sense of dread in my stomach, I scanned the horizon for the first sight of the tsunami I knew must be coming. It wasn’t too late to run to higher ground, but would I? Or would I stand still and face it? Let it slam into me, roar over me and decimate me? What would I do when faced with the tower of the wave?