Rock You (Fallen Star Book 1) Read online

  ROCK YOU

  FALLEN STAR SERIES

  BOOK 1

  by

  Candy J. Starr

  Copyright Candy J. Starr 2015

  All rights reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental

  CHAPTER ONE

  That was the house?

  I looked up then checked the GPS on my phone again. Yep, that was it. It wasn’t like there were any other options anyway. I’d caught the bus to the end of the route and it was the only house in sight. Had been the only house in sight for ages, actually. I think the bus only came out here because there was nowhere earlier for it to turn.

  Well, I’d wanted isolation and this place certainly offered it.

  On one side of the bus stop, wilderness led down to the bay and, on the other, a driveway twisted up a hill to a dark, brooding house that perched like a crow waiting to peck my eyes out.

  I’m not one to judge but I had to wonder if anyone who owned a house that neglected could actually afford a housekeeper. I didn’t want some loser stiffing me on my pay.

  The house literally towered above me like some hulking entity from a gothic novel. It’d not be a stretch to imagine that the weirdo who’d hired me kept his crazy wife in that tower room at the top of the place and she’d wander the halls at night, with a creaky lantern swinging from her hand, rattling… rattly things around the house.

  The sky above completed the picture of ominousness, grey with even greyer clouds gathering.

  A chill went through me.

  The whole idea was madness. That was what you got for agreeing to work for someone, sight unseen, from an ad on Craigslist.

  I could run. The bus hadn’t left the bus stop yet. I could run and jump back on that bus and head back to civilisation. I would put on my noise cancelling headphones that blocked out the entire world and pull my coat around me to shield me and hope that no one sat beside me and that no one touched me and no one even looked at me. I could run back home.

  Except that I had no home now. This was a gothic novel in the making, since I was practically a damn orphan. I mean, in gothic novels, the heroine is an orphan because their parents die of some olden days’ disease like consumption. They definitely aren’t orphans because their insensitive parents decide to ditch them to travel the world being “digital nomads”. The very term made me shudder. Damn hipster parents. And they’d decided to rent our house out on Airbnb at a price I couldn’t even afford, so I had to move into the scary gothic house.

  A strong wind blew around me, making something grate like metal against metal. I shivered. I would die in that house. I would be murdered by the gruesome Tex O’Malley and his nutso wife. Then my parents would be sorry. Well, when they eventually realised that I’d stopped emailing them at their Bali beach villa.

  Actually, the gothic mansion seemed a whole lot better than some horrible beach in the glaring sun.

  The bus pulled off, leaving me no avenue of escape. I’d studied the timetable before I’d left home and they only ran once an hour. I’d have to wait for the next one in that fallen down bus shelter, and maybe the old man was watching from one of those windows. The whole idea of him watching made me shudder.

  “You need to leave the nest,” Mum had said. “You need to go out into the real world.”

  Phht.

  “I know all about this real world you talk of, mother,” I’d said. “I’ve read about it on the internet. There’s a whole Wikipedia article on it. That’s close enough for me. Can’t I just stay here? I can order groceries online and use internet banking and all that type of thing? I can’t get an outside job. I have stuff to work on.”

  “Stuff that doesn’t pay the kind of rent we’d expect to get for this place. Ruby, we can’t support you your whole life. I worry about you.”

  I worried about me too. I worried that this outside world thing would cut into my internet time.

  “You are 22 years old,” she’d said. “Do you want to still be living at home when you are 50?”

  Yes, actually I did, but she didn’t understand that. It wasn’t like I was any bother to her. I did all the housework while she and Dad worked. That saved them all that money they used to pay the housekeeper. And I was in my room all the time, not in their way. Still they abandoned me.

  So I got this job, since it called for the only marketable skills I had, which were cleaning and not being in the way.

  I crunched my way up the gravel path. And each crunch had a rhythm that seemed to say “go away, go away”. I wondered if the house was built on an ancient burial ground.

  Fir trees canopied the pathway that curved around so that the house was out of view for a moment. The wind rocked the boughs above me and they too creaked in an ominous way.

  It was serious spooky stuff. I would not be going into the attic of that house for anything.

  I took a deep breath and kept walking. Mum had given me a wheelie suitcase to pack my stuff in but the wheels didn’t work on the gravel road, so I had to carry it. The handle cut into my hands and the case bashed against my legs. All the omens were bad.

  As I got closer to the house, the trees seemed to enclose me, as though drawing me in. They might have been majestic once but now the branches had become bedraggled and the arch slumped under the weight of their growth.

  The path became darker. In parts, branches swung down and nibbled the top of my head, and I’m not that tall. Something told me that I’d not come out of this the same person. I’d get stuck under an enchanted spell like a fairy tale.

  Sure, I could look for another job but this one had one major advantage. The weird old man I’d be working for wanted no contact with me: he didn’t want to talk to me, he didn’t want to see me, he didn’t want to know I was actually in the place except for the tell-tale signs of cleanliness that were part of my job.

  I’d rather face a creepy old house and a host of ghosts than the scariest thing of all: human interaction. Not the nice, safe kind of interaction where you’re on one side of the computer screen and the other person is on the other, but that human interaction where you can hear people and see them and smell them.

  Like that old woman on the bus. Even though most of the bus had been empty, she’d sat down beside me and tried to talk. She could obviously see I was wearing headphones. Didn’t worry her though, she just kept chatting away. Luckily, she’d only stayed on for a few stops, because I got sick of smiling and nodding at her. She was probably a nice old lady and all but I really wanted to have some time with my thoughts so I could get them all sorted out. Change freaks me out.

  All things considered, it was a pretty sweet opportunity. Mostly because of the no human contact part. At least ghosts don’t chat at you.

  As I rounded the corner, some sunshine penetrated the trees. Then the house came into view. The white paint must’ve been pristine once but it’d peeled off in flakes. The curtains hanging at the windows were so crooked, the house looked pie-eyed. Only a faint light glowed from one of the upstairs windows. The lawn was overgrown and full of dandelions. Things creaked and groaned like the house was trying to send me a verbal warning. Beware of the monster… wooooh…

  I bet the neighbourhood kids dared each other to run up to this house and ring the doorbell. Even while the spookiness of it chilled me, I did admire the dedication to di
scouraging visitors. And I wasn’t really sure where the neighbourhood kids would come from. You’d have to be a pretty determined ratbag kid to come all the way out there on the bus.

  As I got closer, I realised I’d have my work cut out for me cleaning the place. Who knew what was going on? Maybe the old dude had some disability that stopped him from maintaining the place or maybe he was just lazy? It wasn’t up to me to question his life choices.

  I stepped up onto the sagging verandah, wondering if I should knock. In his emails, he’d been pretty determined I wasn’t to disturb him. Then I noticed an envelope pinned to the front door. It held a key and a letter with instructions – what work I had to do, where my room was, that kind of thing.

  Sweet.

  I half expected the door to creak open all on its own as I approached it.

  I walked into the dark hallway. The house smelt stale and unaired – a smell I quite liked with its hint of safety from the outside world – but I guessed I’d have to get rid of it. I couldn’t pick out much of the decor since the hallway was unlit and I couldn’t find the light switches, so I headed to the brighter room at the back. According to the instructions, that was the kitchen and my room was off it to the left.

  I tiptoed down the hallway, worried about making a noise.

  Holy shit! The kitchen.

  It hit me like a punch in the face.

  I held my nose. How much was this guy paying me? It looked like he hadn’t washed a dish in a year and there was something that might have been food once on the table. It was a modern kitchen with a dishwasher and all that, just totally neglected. I hoped there was a lot of disinfectant.

  I dreaded the thought of my room. I’d spotted the door but hesitated before opening it. Who knew what was in there? Maybe a decaying carcass or two?

  I pushed the door and stood back just in case I needed to make a run for it. It didn’t stink like the kitchen but, when I walked into the room, it had a musty smell. The blinds covering the window let in a dappled light. The bed looked comfy enough and there was a huge, heavy wooden wardrobe and a desk. I put my case on the bed and got out my laptop to check for a Wi-Fi connection. That’d be the deal breaker – no Wi-Fi, no staying.

  The signal was strong. I’d stay. I’d clean the heck out of things so that the ghosts and evil spirits were too scared to stick around. The place would sparkle like a diamond when I’d finished with it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It took me the better part of the morning but I’d actually made some space on the bench tops where the dirty, mouldy dishes had sat. Well, first I’d emptied the dishwasher of the crap that was in there. It hadn’t been emptied in centuries. The dishes were growing species unknown to modern science.

  I found the laundry and, in the back of the cupboard, sat a dust-covered bottle of bleach. I even found a few pairs of rubber gloves still in their packaging. Other than that, the laundry seemed to be a hotch-potch of junk. Almost like someone had been in the middle of doing their washing and lost interest and walked out. The washing machine at least was empty. I’d dreaded opening the lid, expecting to find some clothes that had been soaking so long they’d become soup.

  With the bleach and gloves in hand, I went back to the kitchen and filled the sink with dishes, adding a decent amount of bleach to kill all the germs. While they soaked, I ran the dishwasher through to get any of the remaining disgusting gunk out of it.

  I hate mess and dirt.

  I had a look around the areas I had yet to clean. The upstairs of the house was the “no go” zone where my boss lived. Since he could manage stairs, I figured he wasn’t that decrepit so he probably could’ve rinsed a plate once in a while. The downstairs included a huge dining room and a sitting room with massive bay windows looking out on the actual bay. There were a couple of other bedrooms that had been shut up for years and a smaller sitting room with a study off it.

  The only ones using any of those rooms were the spiders by the looks of things. The cobwebs had gone crazy.

  While the rooms had been shut up for a long time, I didn’t think they’d be that much work. Sure, it’d be a pain getting them clean to start with but once I got everything in order, it’d be a cushy job keeping the place under control. That’d leave me heaps of time to work on my own shit.

  I put the dishes back in the washer, then I started on the other piles sitting around the kitchen. This guy must have a ton of crockery. What did he do? Just buy new dishes when the old ones got dirty? That wouldn’t have surprised me at all.

  When I lifted up one pile of dishes, I had no idea what they’d had on them but the stink nearly knocked me out. It was as if the foulest odours you can imagine had been sitting there, quietly plotting, waiting for someone to disturb them so they could attack. Those stinky dishes wouldn’t defeat me though. I ran into my room and grabbed a scarf out of my bag and wrapped it over my face, making sure my nose was well covered. While I was there, I got my phone too and put on some classical music to fill the kitchen while I was cleaning.

  I found some garbage bags and tossed away the worst of the dishes. No one would want to eat off them ever again.

  When the first load of dishes was done, I wasn’t sure exactly where to stack them. It wasn’t as if there were clean dishes in any of the cupboards as an indication of where they went. I ended up just putting things in the available empty spaces.

  The kitchen wasn’t exactly clean after that but you could actually tell it was a kitchen. The garbage bag bulged with the stuff I’d thrown out. I needed to find out where the trash bins were and when they needed to be put out. I was sure it was in the instructions I’d been given. There seemed to be some sheds in the backyard. I just hoped they weren’t too scary.

  I wiped my forehead. While I’d been busy working, I’d not noticed how hot it’d gotten in the kitchen. Even in the middle of winter, the sun shone through the big windows, heating the room up. Luckily the dust and grime on the glass gave a layer of insulation for the moment. It’d get even hotter after I cleaned them.

  Then I checked the clock on the wall. The instructions said I had to be absent between 1.00 and 2.00. It was 12.55. That suited me fine. I’d go in my room and take a break. I had important things to do online. He’d said nothing about the evening so maybe he only ate once a day or else he prepared something with his lunch for later on.

  The old man hadn’t said anything about buying groceries and other supplies so I wrote a note and left it on the counter. I’d found food in the pantry. Well, if you could call it food. There were a few tins of stuff that were actually still within their use-by date so I heated up some soup for my lunch, but most of the stuff in that pantry was beyond redemption – and I wasn’t exactly fussy about what I ate.

  I’d leave pantry cleaning for my afternoon job.

  I went in my room and shut the door. A little while later, I heard footsteps in the kitchen. It was weird, sitting in my room with someone I had never seen in the other room, so I put my headphones on. If I couldn’t hear him, it’d be like he didn’t even exist. It sounded like he was just shuffling around getting some food. I hadn’t even opened the fridge to see what was in there. There’s only so much you can stomach at a time.

  When I went back to the kitchen, there were a couple of dirty dishes in the sink but no other sign of another human. Then I saw the note on the bench. He’d left me his credit card and told me to order some stuff online. Whatever I needed.

  Wow, I could go crazy. Did he really trust me that much? Maybe I needed a new Mercedes, did he think of that? I could totally rip him off and disappear in the night.

  I shrugged. Old people and their trust!

  The only thing he’d asked for was a carton of cigarettes. No food, nothing. Well, if I cooked things he didn’t like, he could just eat them and shut up about it.

  On the bottom of the note, he’d added: DO NOT play music. He’d even underlined it for emphasis. Fine, if that’s the way he felt, I’d use my headphones. No big deal. Grouchy o
ld bugger.

  I checked the fridge to see what we needed. He obviously didn’t use it much because it wasn’t the disgusting spew bowl I’d been expecting. There were some beers and a rancid block of butter and that was it. It had a bit of a funky smell but that would soon be wiped away.

  I emptied the pantry and scrubbed out the mouse droppings. It was totally gross but, when I finished, I really liked the way the cupboard looked with just the few tins sitting in it neatly spaced like little soldiers. It was already dark and I figured I’d done enough for one day. I’d be eating nothing but soup for dinner until I got some supplies.

  I made a list of things to get delivered. More cleaning products, for sure. And some food. Definitely some snack food. I went online and put in my grocery order. Luckily, they had a delivery window for the next day. Score. I wasn’t sure how long I could exist on just soup. The only time available was 2.30-4.30 but that would be well after O’Malley wanted me out of the way. It’s not like those delivery guys turn up on time anyway.

  Looking around, I figured I’d done well for my first day. I just hoped those mice knew to keep their distance. They’d be all homeless now but didn’t want them bunking in with me.

  I went back into my room and got to work.

  My “hobby”, the one that my mother thought didn’t pay enough to support me, was programming apps. Okay, most of the stuff I did was pretty simple and it was more for my own entertainment than to make money so I didn’t really support myself with it. To make money, I’d have to do horrible things like networking and promotion. I’d rather just make some pocket money than deal with people and schmoozing. Ick. I flew under the radar apart from a small group of people who loved my stuff.

  That was one of the things that bugged Mum. She kept telling me I should be making money off this stuff. But I didn’t care about money that much.

  “That’s a selfish way of looking at things when you expect us to support you,” Mum had said.