The Apparition - An Andromache Jones Mystery

by Sammi Cox

Storming down the stairs, Mac had had enough. She was wasting her time and she was wasting Jean Pottersworth's time. Unless, of course, it was the other way round and Jean Pottersworth was wasting Mac's time.

  As she passed the landing for the first floor, part of her wanted to finish exploring the house. If nothing else, this little excursion had afforded Mac the opportunity to go through a Victorian house, containing many original features and although it had an unloved feel to it, it was awfully interesting, and she had been able to explore it on her own.

  Soon however, reality set in. She had been asked to come here for a reason. She had been asked to fix the problem of a haunted house, but there was no apparent haunting. So, whether Jean Pottersworth would be happy with her answer or not, she had done what she had been asked to do.

  As she descended the final steps of the staircase, she hoped that her intuition might pick something up. She strained hard to hear anything, no matter how remote, to feel even the vaguest of presences but there was nothing. Nothing more than you might expect from a house of this age, any way. So she walked down the hall, and to the front door, which she walked out of, closing it behind her.

  The walk down the drive was quick; Mac had opened and closed this case, at least, as far as she was concerned. If Ms Pottersworth chose to engage anyone else in pursuit of the ghost, that was up to her.

  When Mac arrived back at the cars, Jean was still sitting in hers, and she looked awful. Mac could tell that she had been crying again. Her eyes were ringed with red, and in one of her hands she clutched a used tissue. Mac tried to open the driver side door so that she could give Jean her report but the door was locked, illustrating to Mac just how terrified Jean really was to be anywhere near the house.

  Jean indicated for Mac to go round and climb into the passenger seat, which Mac did. Then it was time to disappoint the woman - again. 'I'm sorry, Jean, it's not good news, I'm afraid.'

  'It won't go?'

  'No,...I couldn't find it. I couldn't find anything in the house.'

  'You couldn't? Are you sure? What on God's green earth does that mean?'

  'I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.'

  'But that's not possible...it's not...it can't be...'

  'Jean, I went round most of the house. I should have been able to pick up on a presence just walking up the driveway, but I went round many of the rooms, and there's nothing there.'

  'That...cannot...be...' Jean whispered, going white. She began shaking her head from side-to-side, giving the impression of madness. 'Am I crazy, Miss Jones? Have I lost my mind? But what about the others...they saw her...they heard her...'

  'So this presence was a woman?' Mac asked, learning another fact hours after she should have been told.

  'Yes.'

  'And you have seen her?'

  'Yes.'

  'How many times?'

  'More than I care to remember.'

  'And you have heard her?'

  'Yes.'

  'More than once?'

  'Yes, more than once, Miss Jones, but it doesn't matter if it is all just a figment of my imagination!'

  'Please, bear with my questions, Jean. We then might be able to make some sense of what is going on. So you have seen her and heard her on many occasions. And was there anyone with you during any of these encounters?'

  'Yes. Some of the workmen. But they saw and heard her in other areas of the house, when I was not with them.'

  'Right, Jean. I am going to need you to be terribly brave. Will you come with me into the house?'

  'No, never.'

  'Jean, I know what it is that I am asking of you, and I know that you are scared, but it might be the only way for us to solve this little conundrum. I want you to take me round the house. Show me where you saw her. Show me where you heard her. Tell me what you were doing when these things happened.'

  'Miss Jones, I don't think I can.'

  'I won't leave, Jean, not for a second, I promise. I'll hold your hand from the moment you step out of the car, until the moment you get back in it, I swear.'

  The nervous woman thought for a moment, before she finally caved in. 'Is there some kind of protection thing you can do to keep us safe?'

  'Jean, although you and the work crews seem to have undergone some kind of terrifying experience, it is extraordinarily rare for anyone to be truly hurt by the presence of a spirit.'

  'I don't care, Miss Jones. I would rather be safe than sorry. And I might feel a little more...well... protected...than with just you holding my hand - not that I don't want you too.'

  'All right, Jean. But we are going to have to step out of the car.'

  Mac got out and walked round and opened the door for Jean. She was certainly taking Mac at her word and not wishing to leave the car without her holding her hand, but then as soon as Mac took hold of her, she could feel the woman shaking with fright. Mac couldn't correlate the feelings - or rather, lack of feelings - she got from the house and Jean's behaviour. It didn't seem to add up; there was something missing, but what? What could mean that the house was completely devoid of anything but peace and residual energy one minute and then the next be a scene from a horror film?

  'Jean, the first thing we need to do, is find a place where you feel completely at ease in relation to the house. Are you able to stand on the boundary between the street and the driveway?'

  'Not so that I feel comfortable.'

  'All right. Let's take a walk. Stop when you feel happy.'

  They began walking down the street, away from the house. It was some time before Jean decided to stop. The further they got from the house, the more Mac wondered as to what could have happened in there, of which no trace was left behind.

  A simple protection visualisation will have to do for now, Mac thought, her mind turning towards more immediate concerns. After all, she had arrived at the location quite unprepared for such an exercise as this, as Jean had given no hint to the exact nature of the problem, so Mac had not brought anything of that kind with her.

  'Here. I feel fine here,' Jean finally declared turning to Mac.

  'All right. Take my other hand,' Mac said, holding both of her hands out in front of her. 'Close your eyes. I want you to imagine a bright white circle of light all around you. It goes under your feet and right over your head. I want you to imagine that you are turning round in a circle, quite slowly, inspecting this circle of light. Note that there are no weak spots or breaks in the light. It is one continuous, shimmering ball of light and you are in its centre. You are completely surrounded by it, protected by it. You are safe and nothing can hurt you. Do you understand?'

  'Yes.'

  'Can you sense how strong this protection is around you?'

  'Yes.'

  'Are you ready for us to go on up to the house?'

  'No.'

  'Jean!' Mac exclaimed.

  'All right. I will try, but if I want to leave, you promise you won't make me stay?'

  'Of course.'

  They began the walk back to the house. Mac was certainly intrigued by the case. All thoughts of the events from a few days ago were gone and she was completely focused on what was going on in Jean's house. In fact she was quite eager to get back inside it, so she was moving quite quickly. Jean on the other hand, was dragging herself slowly up the road, attempting to hold Mac back. It was clearly evident in every fibre of her being that she didn't want to take one step on to that property, let alone cross into the house. But true to her word, Mac did not let go of Jean's hand.

  When they reached the front door, Jean needed a minute to compose herself.

  'If you start to feel a little anxious, just remember that you are standing inside a ball of protective energy, Jean.'

  'OK. Let's get this over and done with.'

  Mac unlocked the door and pushed it wide open. Together they stepped through. As soon as Mac had crossed the threshold she could tell something was different. The energy of th
e house had changed to when she had toured the building alone. A tingling sensation travelled all the way up her spine, almost tickling her neck and making her hair feel as if it was standing on end.

  Mac could sense it now. Something very strange was going on in this house.

  As they moved a little further into the hallway, the air became so heavy and oppressive that Mac found it hard to breathe.

  'Jean, tell me what you are feeling,' Mac said, trying to get their focus centred on the job at hand.

  'Scared. Like I want to run away.'

  'Are you all right for us to carry on?'

  'Yes, for the time being.'

  'Where shall we start?'

  'Just through here,' Jean indicated to the first room on the left, the front room without the broken piano in it.

  They entered the empty room. The air was just as thick in here as it was in the hall.

  'All right, Jean. Tell me about what happened in this room.'

  'It was the first day after the house sale had gone through. I was here alone. The night before I had been staying at a friend's in Hillsbury, but I needed to be here early for when the removal lorry arrived with all my stuff.'

  So far so good, Mac thought, inwardly pleased with Jean. It was usually when people began recalling the details of events that worried or frightened them that they broke down.

  'I think I got here about five a.m. because I wanted to sweep one of the rooms on the ground floor out. I thought it would be easier to have one clean room that all of my things could go in until the house had been done up. Then, as the rooms were renovated I could move what I wanted into them. Of course, at that time of year it is still dark at nearly seven in the morning, so it was positively black when I arrived here at five. I let myself in. It was the first time that I had been in the house on my own, so I already felt a little...uneasy. I didn't really know the house well enough to be moving around it in the dark, and although I had one of those big torches, it didn't seem to do much. Well, I chose this room as the store room and began to sweep it out. The room had a few pieces of old furniture in it, some photos and papers, which I moved out to a different part of the house until I had time to sort them out, when...when...all of a sudden...oh my...no...I need to go...I need to get out of here.' Jean let go of Mac's hand and ran out. A moment later, Mac heard the front door bang close. From the window she could see Jean running as fast as she could move back down the drive and towards the cars.

  Mac was left alone in the house. What had she been about to say? What was she recalling that made her leave the house? Mac thought. This case was getting stranger and stranger, but then the strangest thing yet happened.

  Less than thirty seconds had passed since Jean had exited the building, when the oppressive atmosphere cloying all around Mac lifted. The energy she sensed in the house when they walked into the hallway had disappeared. To check that she wasn't going mad, she retraced her footsteps and stood in the hall. The house felt as it had done earlier in the day, when Mac had explored it alone. And that could only mean one thing.

  Either it was Jean herself who was being haunted, not the house, or Jean was the trigger.

  Chapter Six: Alcohol and Apparitions