The Good Sisters

Helen Phifer lives in a small town called Barrow-in-Furness with her husband and five children. She has lived in the same town since she was born. It gets some bad press but really is a lovely place to live, surrounded by coastline and not far from the Lake District, where she likes to spend at least one of her days off from work. She has always loved writing and reading and loves reading books that make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Unable to find enough scary stories to read, she decided to write her own.

You can contact or follow Helen on her blog at helenphiferblog.wordpress.com, her website at www.helenphifer.com and on Twitter: @helenphifer1.

Praise for Helen Phifer

‘If you haven’t read any of the books in this series yet, you don’t know what you’re missing!’ – Splashes into Books

‘The Ghost House is the most exciting book I have read in a very long time, and would make an absolutely perfect Halloween read! Amazing début from Helen Phifer and I eagerly await more from her!’ – Judging Covers

‘It was an atmospheric, spooky read, ideal for the season.’ – I Heart Reading

‘The story constantly kept me on the edge of my seat. The Ghost House is a magnificent read and it’s perfect for those who have a strong stomach and nerves of steel!’ – Librarian Lavender

‘I really found my heart thumping through some of the passages, and I blame Helen for sleepless nights when I was wondering what would happen next!’ – Amy (Amazon reviewer)

‘I was really impressed by this book. … I was amazed how the author got inside of the mind of the serial killer and really showed you his psychotic thought processes.’ – Elder Park Book Reviews

‘The twists and turns are fascinating.’ – A J Book Review Club

‘If you love paranormal and crime novels, then this series is the one for you! But not only that, Helen also manages to grip you from the start, with romance thrown in and a lot of suspense. The stories jump from past to present throughout which shows incredible storytelling as you do not get confused by this once, it really adds to the storyline.’ – Nikki xoxo (Amazon reviewer)

Also by Helen Phifer

The Annie Graham Series

The Ghost House

The Secrets of the Shadows

The Forgotten Cottage

The Lake House

The Girls in the Woods

The Face Behind the Mask

The Good Sisters

HELEN PHIFER

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016

Copyright © Helen Phifer 2016

Helen Phifer asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

This e-book Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008209568

Version: 2019-02-27

I dedicate this book to all my amazing readers; you are what makes this all worthwhile and I’m eternally grateful for your support.

Helen xx

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Praise for Helen Phifer

Also by Helen Phifer

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Acknowledgements

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Kate Parker pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and stood with her hands on her slender hips, admiring the building in front of her. It was huge, old, a complete wreck – and all hers. This was going to be her home for the foreseeable future, hopefully for ever. The acre of land surrounding the building was overgrown and neglected, but there was a lot of potential. The one thing that Kate had always had since she was a child was vision. She knew that this sad, unloved building – once the work had been completed – would make an amazing boutique bed and breakfast, as well as the perfect home for her daughters.

‘What do you think, Amy? Does it meet with your approval? I hope so because I’m going to be investing everything that you left to me, and every penny I get from the prick when the divorce is finalised, to turn it into our dream.’

Her voice echoed then fell flat in the clearing and she had to blink back the tears. Amy – her best friend, and the sister she’d never had – had also shared this dream with her. Ever since they’d met fifteen years ago this had been their plan. She would have loved it. They had spent two years looking for the perfect property to renovate, but had never found one that quite ticked all the boxes or was within their price range. Then came the devastating news that Amy had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

The pain in her heart always took her by surprise, the grief a sharp sting that would take her breath away. It was so ironic that now Amy was no longer here, and Kate was on her own, she had enough money to buy this property. She’d heard about it from one of the girls at the estate agent’s where she used to work before her perfect life had been washed away from under her feet.

Sam had phoned her up the same day that she’d been asked to visit and make a valuation ready to put it on the market. Luckily for her, Sam hated Kate’s ex-husband Martin – who owned the estate agent’s – almost as much as Kate did. She had come and picked Kate up, driving her to view the property. They hadn’t been able to go inside because it was boarded up at every door and window, but Kate had fallen in love with its Gothic structure, large arched windows and overgrown, neglected grounds.

Sam had handed the owners’ details to Kate and told her she would give it a few days before she rang them back to double check they wanted Parker’s Estate Agents to go ahead and market it. Kate had phoned the owners the minute she got back to her cramped, one-bedroomed flat and told them she was prepared to make them a cash offer, saving them the extortionate estate agent’s fees, if they agreed on a private sale.

Not only did the owners agree there and then that she could buy it, they told her they would accept her offer, which was substantially lower than the three hundred thousand they had told Sam they were looking for. Six weeks later, she was now the proud owner of the house and not only had she got it for a bargain but she had also managed to swipe it from under her greedy, soon-to-be ex-husband’s feet. She didn’t know what was more fulfilling: getting the property before he did or the fact that she was about to make her lifelong dream come true.

The sound of tyres crunching along the gravel broke her trance and she turned to see a battered grey van that belonged to the cowboy heading towards her. Amy had nicknamed him ‘the cowboy’ because of his love of checked shirts, faded jeans and rigger boots. Oliver Nealee worked for Martin at the estate agent’s, doing all his property maintenance, and Kate was hoping she could convince him to take over the project management for the renovations on the house. She didn’t know any other builders, and he was always such a polite, funny, hard-working man. She knew she could trust him. It was probably the meanest nickname anyone could call him – the cowboy – but it just suited him.

He parked behind her, narrowly missing her pushbike, which she’d left discarded in the long grass, and she had to grab it and drag it away from the front tyres. He swung his legs out of the van and for the first time ever she caught a glimpse of his tanned, muscled calves. The denim shorts he had on were faded just like his jeans always were.

‘Sorry, Kate, I didn’t see your bike there.’

‘My fault, I just dumped it when I got here.’

He looked at her and she hoped he wasn’t thinking what a mess she was. Her blonde cropped hair was badly in need of a cut. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and since she’d left Martin she hadn’t bothered to keep up with the Botox and fillers – all the money she’d spent the last three years trying to look much younger than her 45 years and he’d still had an affair with the office junior who was 23.

‘It’s been a while. How are you? You look great.’

She began to laugh and felt her cheeks burn. ‘Always such a gentleman. I’m okay, thanks. I know I’ve looked better, but I have no one to please now so I don’t bother.’

‘Well, you look lovely. I think you look better than you have in a while.’

There was a pause. She hoped he wasn’t going to mention her drinking. She didn’t drink as much as she used to when she was with Martin. She knew one day she would be brave enough to try and stop. In fact, she was so excited at the thought of getting her life back on track she had decided to try and cut it down once she moved into her new house. It wasn’t something she was proud of and until now she hadn’t had much reason to stop. Martin had taken her job, home, children and life away from her, leaving her with nothing. Who could blame her for drowning her sorrows in a bottle or two of wine every night?

‘So what’s all this about then? Dragging me away from unblocking a toilet for Martin?’

‘I see he still has you doing all his glamorous jobs then? I wanted to know if you would help me – well, not help me, I mean work for me. I’ll pay you more than what he pays you. I need someone to sort this out for me and I’d like it to be you.’

He looked around the building and the grounds then whistled. ‘That’s some restoration project you have there, Kate. It’s going to be a big, messy job and it won’t be cheap. I can tell you that without going inside and taking a look. Are you sure you want to do this?’

Kate stared at the house – her house – then turned and glanced at the gardens before looking him straight in the eye.

‘I can live without modern conveniences. I already have been in the crappy flat that I’m living in now. What I can’t live without is this house. I can’t explain how it makes me feel. I actually tingle inside when I look at it. I’ve never really believed in fate, but I truly believe that this house is supposed to belong to me. I knew it the very first moment I set eyes on it. And if not driving a fancy car or having my nails manicured or my hair cut and coloured every month means that I can afford to renovate it, then those are just a few of the sacrifices that I’m willing to make. So yes, I’m sure I want to do this. Do you think it’s really bad? I haven’t even been inside, but I got it for a complete bargain after I fell in love with it. It’s the only time I’ve ever felt love at first sight. Would you be able to take the board off so we can get in the front door and take a look around it?’

‘If I take the board off the door the house is going to be open and insecure for anyone to get in, unless the door actually works and it’s just been boarded up to keep it secure.’

‘Please can you take it off – and then can you fix the door for me if it needs it? Because I need to move in, today, and I don’t want it to be insecure.’

He looked at her as if she’d gone mad. ‘You want to live here, on your own, when you haven’t seen the inside? It might not be in a fit state to live in. How long has it been empty?’

‘Twenty, maybe forty-odd years, I think. I’m not too sure, but yes, I hate it where I live at the moment. It’s a cramped council flat. Last night the flat opposite mine was broken into and set on fire. The drug dealer above me had his door kicked in and seven bells of shit kicked out of him the day before, so yes living here has got to be a better option than living there.’

***

Unable to speak, Oliver shook his head, thinking that she was either insane or plain stupid for buying this house without even looking inside it. But he’d always had a soft spot for her and if he was honest with himself a bit of a schoolboy crush. He used to watch Martin treating her like a second-class citizen, openly flirting with anything in a skirt and generally being a bastard to her. If he hadn’t had enough problems in his own life he would have liked to take him to one side and teach him a thing or two about how to treat a lady, but Martin paid his wages. So until the day he didn’t need the money, he’d been stuck and unable to have his own opinion.

Oliver grabbed his toolbox from out of the back of the van. Opening it up and taking out his cordless drill, he began to unscrew the board off the front door. He wondered if she was still drinking as much. He wondered if the purchase of this house had been when she was in an alcohol-fuelled haze or whether she had it more under control now. She was such an attractive woman; it would be a shame to watch her lose her sparkle as the alcohol dulled it until she looked like all the other alcoholics her age. It made him so angry inside to see her drowning her life away inside a bottle, when Ellen – his wife – had fought for every minute of hers.

***

Kate stood watching him with her fingers crossed behind her back. This was going to be amazing. She had such a good feeling about it and just knew that it was. As he took the last screw out and prised the board from the door frame, she let out a small whoop of delight. Behind the faded board was a big, arched stained-glass door that would have looked at home in a church. It was beautiful. The dark oak looked in good condition and pretty solid. The brass lock was rusted and he held his hands out for the keys. Kate passed them to him and watched him fiddle around with them for a few minutes. It wouldn’t turn. He looked at her over his shoulder and must have seen the disappointment that was etched onto her face.

‘I’ve got some WD-40 in the van.’ He walked over to retrieve it and returned a minute later with a can of spray-on grease and two huge torches. He handed them to her then sprayed the grease in and around the lock. He tried once more and this time with a bit of twisting the key gave in and turned. He shoved his shoulder against the door, which was stuck, pushing it open to reveal the darkness inside. It smelt damp, and fusty, and it was very black inside.

For a fleeting moment Kate felt an overwhelming sense of despair wash over her, but no sooner had she questioned what was going on and it was gone, leaving her feeling excited once more. They switched on the torches and stepped inside, sweeping the beams around the entrance hall that was now covered in a thick layer of dust. It had obviously once been very grand. The walls, which were all oak-panelled, were covered in thick, grey dust. The staircase was huge and from what Kate could see underneath the dirt and debris, the floor was made up of ornately tiled mosaics.

What stood out the most was the huge crucifix draped in thick cobwebs hanging on the wall directly opposite the front door. She shivered. Church and religion had been her worst nightmare when she’d been a kid. Her mother used to make her go every Sunday without fail. She’d have to listen to Father Joe deliver the longest, most boring sermons. She looked across at Oliver’s face, trying to work out if he was impressed or not.

‘Well, what do you think?’

‘I think that you have taken on a huge task and you’re a braver person than I am, but it doesn’t seem as bad in here as I thought it would. I’m surprised to be honest, although for all we know the floors could be dangerous and full of dry rot.’

He picked up a piece of discarded wood spindling, which was lying on the floor, and banged it down hard on the tiles to make sure they were safe to stand on.

‘Follow me, Kate, I mean it – don’t walk off on your own. This place could be a death trap for all you know.’

She squealed and grabbed his arm. ‘It’s beautiful though, isn’t it? I mean it has so much potential. I can’t wait to get it cleaned up and started.’

***

He couldn’t help smiling to himself in the darkness. Her enthusiasm was catching. It did seem to be a pretty remarkable building.

They were so busy looking down at the floor, making sure it was safe to walk on, that neither of them saw the faceless, black, hooded figure hovering at the top of the stairs watching them. Kate’s torchlight caught the corner of the thick, silver crucifix that hung around its neck, making the light reflect a little. It disappeared back to where it had come from. Back into the shadows where it had dwelled for far too long.

As they walked further into the house, Oliver just hoped that Kate had the money to turn it from this into something habitable. He knew that Martin had taken everything away from her after the court case and he couldn’t help wondering where she had got the money to buy it from. Maybe it was a severance gift from Martin.

***

They walked from room to room. There were a lot of broken windows, which was why it was boarded up, and there were also an awful lot of crosses on the walls. They were everywhere and Kate felt a cold draught run down her back. It was creepy to have so many in one house. Even the church didn’t have so many of the damn things plastered around. Whoever lived here must have been some kind of religious nut. She made up her mind that her first job would be to take them all down when she came back with boxes, bags and a huge skip to fill with all the junk from inside.

She was also going to do some digging and find out the house’s history. When she had a minute, she would go to the records office attached to the local library and see what information they had on it. She wanted to make a scrapbook about the house now and what it would be like when it was finished. Something for her girls to treasure and that guests who stopped by might find interesting. This was her house now and whoever lived here before her had left years ago. She would turn it into the kind of home she’d dreamt about since she was a teenager.

There were still a lot of pieces of furniture that had been left behind, which was a nice bonus. Most of them were covered in dirty, grey dust sheets and she lifted the corners to take a peek at what was hiding underneath. Although some of it was no good, there were some pieces that were still okay. She would put them all in the outhouse and either sell them or have a go at restoring them herself to use in the bedrooms. Once they’d been painted white or grey instead of the dark, almost black oak they would be much brighter and look a lot better.

***

Oliver and Kate cautiously made their way from room to room. The ground floor was pretty solid. There were a couple of holes in the floorboards in three of the rooms, but the other five were not too bad. The plaster was falling off some of the walls and the wiring wasn’t very good. Oliver didn’t think it would be a huge job to knock out walls and add en-suites to the bedrooms. Years ago, he’d owned a thriving building business which had refit offices, hotels and pubs, so this wasn’t going to be anything that he couldn’t do. The only reason he’d sold the business was because his wife Ellen had been diagnosed with motor neurone disease and he’d wanted to take care of her.

He felt excited at the prospect of some real work, a proper project to get his teeth into. Martin Parker was an egotistical prick, but he’d come in handy and Oliver had needed something to do to keep his mind from dwelling on Ellen’s illness and her awful, drawn-out death. The odd jobs he’d done for him had kept him busy enough that it kept some normality in his life.

***

It was much colder on the first floor than downstairs and Kate found herself wishing she’d worn her jeans and not a pair of cut-off shorts and a strappy vest top. It was dark and gloomy, and there were even more of those bloody crosses. She couldn’t wait to rip them all down. They came to the smaller staircase that led up to the second floor and attic. Oliver went first and she followed close behind.

It was a little lighter up here because there were a couple of gaping holes in the roof. There were fewer rooms up here, but they were huge. This floor would be perfect for her to have a large en-suite bedroom and the girls could each have a large room. Not to mention their own living quarters if they decided that’s what they wanted – and if she could afford it after the work had been done on the rest of the house.

There were some crumpled boxes shoved into one corner and she pushed one open with the tip of her torch. Inside were piles of old leather Bibles and psalm books. Whoever had lived here must have been a travelling Bible salesman. The thought made her smile. Either that or some kind of religious fanatic. She wondered what the previous owner would have made of a woman buying this house all on her own. She did the same with the next box, which had an old, wooden cigar box inside it. She pulled it out to take a closer look.

Oliver was studying the holes in the roof and had dragged a wooden trunk over that he could stand on to get a better look. Kate opened the cigar box and smiled to see a thick, navy book with gold edges on the pages and the word ‘Diary’ stamped in gold on the front. She picked it up, wondering who it had belonged to and if whoever it was had loved this house the way that she did.

Across the room, Oliver was making lots of ‘ah’ noises. She stood up and walked towards him. Halfway across the huge, open space she heard the sharp sound of scratching coming from one of the darkened corners and paused. Her heart began to race. Oh God. Mice, she didn’t mind, but that sounded loud. Too loud to be a mouse. She’d die if the house came with resident rats.

She waited and listened to see if it happened again. Relieved that it didn’t, she put it down to a bird or maybe one of those nuisance grey squirrels that everyone kept saying were vermin, but that she found cute. She could cope with mice, birds and even squirrels. She wasn’t even going to acknowledge that bigger things with long tails and sharp teeth could be behind the noise. That way it wouldn’t be true, would it? She reached Oliver and shone her torch at the gaping hole, not really understanding what he found so fascinating about it.