‘I’m pretty sure that’s the Masons,’ said Cassian. ‘But I’m willing to try.’
‘Oh shit, this is ridiculous,’ said Emilia, stopping in her tracks and turning back towards the car.
‘Where are you going?’ said Cassian, calling after her.
‘I can’t do this, it’s too much.’
‘Come on, we’re just having a night out with some new friends, take the pressure off.’
Emilia stopped and as she did, Amy stepped out of the car parked next to her.
‘Are you two okay?’ she said. ‘We can rearrange if there’s something wrong?’
Mark stepped out of the drivers side and walked around to the pavement, a concerned look on his face.
Emilia looked at Cassian and smiled.
‘No, nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong at all. It’s great to see you guys again.’
She stepped forward and embraced Amy, kissing her on the cheek and then she did the same again to Mark, who kissed her back and then shook hands with Cassian.
‘I’ve told her she’s not allowed to drink this evening, by the way,’ laughed Mark.
‘And I’ve told him he’s not in charge of what I choose to allow past my lips,’ said Amy as she took Emilia’s hand and started walking off up the street.
‘I love your shoes,’ she said as they stomped away.
The escape room was called The Doll’s House and on arrival Emilia immediately regretted agreeing to take part. It was situated down a dark alley in the oldest part of the city, which in itself was giving her the creeps. Upon entering the venue, they were greeted by a theatrical man, dressed up as what appeared to be an old curator or antiques shop owner. He approached them, doddering forward and offering his outstretched and very limp hand. All around them, adorning the walls and shelves bore down the glass eyes of hundreds and hundreds of Porcelain Dolls.
Emilia shivered and gripped Cassian’s arm.
‘Why hello my dears, what beautiful girls you are and such handsome gentlemen accompanying you. Why you must be Mr and Mrs Black, and Mr and Mrs Hamilton. You're so kind to turn up on time, I haven’t much left you see, so every minute counts. Now I understand you’re searching for a very specific doll for your niece, Mrs Hamilton,’ he said to Amy. ‘I have just the one for you, a German Bisque in fact, please follow me, come on through, don't be shy. You my boy,’ he said to Mark, handing him a box of matches. ‘Take these, you may need them if the lanterns blow out. There's a strong wind tonight.’
The couples looked at one another apprehensively, only Mark seemed unperturbed and he stepped forward, slipping the matches into his pocket and following the curious old man further into the shop.
They stepped through a door into a large candlelit and strangely shaped storeroom. The floor was sloped and the ceiling arched with old beams, and again the eyes of hundreds of dolls stared down at them from every available space.
The man closed the door behind them and there was a small click as it locked.
‘Come, come we must hurry,’ he said ushering them forward into the centre.
‘Here she is, here she is,’ he said, his enthusiasm difficult to interpret as anything other than genuine. ‘Isn't she beautiful? Her name is Annie.’
The doll was grotesque, half its face was burnt and its clothes were charred and smoke damaged.
‘She has the most unusual story,’ he said. ‘She was sold to me through clearance from the estate of a little girl named Marie, who had been gifted it at a young age by her grandmother. This little girl used to take Annie everywhere with her, always talking to her, taking her to bed with her at night, bringing her to the park, sitting her on the swings. To everyone outside the family, Marie was a sweet little girl that seemed to see her dolly as a little sister. The parents however, were starting to become worried.’
As the man spoke the lights seemed to flicker, and there was creak from upstairs. Amy moved a little closer to Emilia, who gripped hold of her arm.
‘Marie would whisper to Annie, and Annie would talk back. At least it seemed that way, the imagination of a child running wild i’m sure, but Annie was telling Marie things that she couldn't possibly have known. Family secrets, events that happened before she was born, and then Marie began to do things, bad things. She would tell her parents that Annie had told her to do it. Things like hurting the family dog, setting fire to the rosemary bush out front, putting poison ivy in her fathers whisky. Finally, Annie it seems, told Marie to throw herself down the stairs, and the poor little girl broke her leg in the fall.’
Emilia was looking around nervously now, her eyes searching the dolls but not wanting to look too closely. Amy squeezed her hand and whispered, ‘It’s okay.’
‘At this point, the parents decided to rid themselves of the doll, but before they could, Marie started a fire. Sadly, she perished, burnt to death in her bedroom having never left her bed. And so the parents, childless and heartbroken, sold everything and abandoned the house. I never found out what happened to them, but I was all too happy to buy an immaculate German Bisque. And just look at what wonderful condition she’s in, like she was born yesterday.’
The old man beamed and held out the burnt, broken doll. The left eye rolled around in its socket and Emilia stepped back, nearly pushing Amy in front of her like a human shield.
‘You’re not selling it to me,’ said Amy, holding Emilia tightly.