Free This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller by Shani Struthers

meekly.
    “That couple seem very nice, I’m not denying that, but we don’t know them. It’s a bit odd that they want to take us to Poveglia isn’t it?”
    Laughing, Rob put one finger to his mouth. “Shush, I wouldn’t say the ‘P’ word too loudly around here.”
    “This isn’t funny!” Besides which, there was no one to hear them, the lane was empty.
    She walked a few more paces and then stopped again, determined to have her say, right here, right now. “Look, you go if you want to, but there’s no way I am.”
    “Why not? It’ll be fun.” His voice was slurred; he was definitely drunk, little wonder given what they’d consumed.
    “Because… it doesn’t feel right, that’s why.”
    “’Cos you’re scared they might be axe murderers?” His laughter was such a maddening sound. “Or is it the island itself that terrifies you, the fantasma ?”
    She drew closer to him, hissed under her breath. “I am not scared.”
    “Then let’s go, it’ll be an adventure, something unusual.”
    She was stunned. “So what we do, going away for weekends, working so hard, it’s all a bit ‘usual’ for you is it? You need a few cheap thrills to spice things up.”
    He turned deliberately coy. “You’re offering me cheap thrills now are you, Lou, in this alleyway, a bunk-up against the wall? Don’t mind if I do!”
    She slapped him around the face – hard.
    “Hey!” he yelled, one hand cradling his cheek. “What did you do that for?”
    “Don’t cheapen me!”
    “What… when… I was joking for God’s sake!”
    “Yet another one that’s not funny.”
    No longer laughing, he was almost growling. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? Sometimes I really do wonder.”
    Exhaling dramatically he started to walk, but she wasn’t done with him yet. She grabbed his arm and threw him against the hard stonework of the wall. He started to laugh again, unable to help himself it seemed, finding her oh so amusing.
    “Louise, stop it. Let’s just go to the hotel and get some sleep.”
    “You never listen to me, do you?”
    He held his hands up in submission. “All right, all right, we won’t go.”
    “I’m not talking about that.”
    “Look he’s an architect, like me, not a mad man.”
    “I said I’m not talking about that.”
    Rob looked puzzled. “What are you talking about then?”
    “About the fact you don’t listen to me, ever.”
    Any amusement in his eyes – whether genuine or forced – fled. He had cottoned on to the true meaning of her words and his expression held a warning: Don’t go off on one; don’t get hysterical . He never actually said it but the intimation was there – always. Even if there had been people around, the lane packed, she doubted she’d be able to stay calm. Perhaps he was right: she was mad. Certainly, standing there, underneath the archway, madness blinded her.
    “I know we can’t have children—”
    “Oh for God’s sake, Lou—”
    “Just listen to me! I know we can’t have children, that IVF hasn’t worked for us, but there are other ways.”
    “We could steal one you mean?” His eyes were steely as he said it.
    “We could adopt.” The last word she spat at him.
    “You know my feelings on that.”
    “ Your feelings, not mine!”
    “Louise, I’m not doing this here.” As he pushed away from the wall, she blocked him.
    “It doesn’t matter where we are, you won’t talk about it. ‘Not now’ you say, and come up with some excuse: you’re busy at work, the phone’s ringing, there’s a programme on TV you’re dying to watch, anything to fob me off. Not anymore. I want to adopt.”
    Settling against the wall, he uttered one word. “No.”
    “Why not, why the hell not?”
    “Louise,” – anger was rising in him too she could tell – “we either have a kid of our own, or we… accept the situation. And I thought that’s what we’d done: accepted it. Decided to live a great life, just the two of us, pursue our careers, travel, have