Haunted House Tales

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Haunted House Tales Page 128

by Riley Amitrani


  ……….

  Lawrence, Kansas

  October 15, 2018, 10 AM

  Price straggled out of bed the next morning, still feeling the after-effects of his efforts over in Bonner Springs. It was always emotionally draining, and he looked at his side as he padded into the bathroom and inspected the large ugly purple bruise that was forming just above his hip. He had not thought anything more about it when it had happened, but being tossed across Jasper’s bedroom by Charlie Crisp made him aware that he might be getting too old for this type of thing now. He brushed his teeth and went to the kitchen, but found it oddly empty and cold. He called out Marilyn’s name, and she answered him from his son’s room.

  Price waked down the hallway where she was hovering over the small boy, a damp cloth on his forehead and a thermometer in his mouth.

  “Is Peter sick?” he asked.

  “Not sure,” she replied. “He was fine last night when he went to bed, but seems to be running a fever this morning.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Not at the moment, but his temperature has gone up a few degrees in just the last hour. I’ll keep an eye on him, and if it doesn’t break by this afternoon, we can call Dr. Ridgeway. Can you watch him while I get some aspirin?”

  Price nodded as he sat down beside his feverish son and eased back the damp hair from his forehead. As soon as his wife left the room, Peter opened one eye and looked at his father. Price went icy cold. He knew that look from both Melody’s descriptions of Jasper as well as what he had seen himself.

  “Long time no see, Doc…” came a voice from his son’s body, though it was certainly not Peter’s voice. Price knew that voice as well. “I told you to just let us be, but you just couldn’t let it go, could you? Hope you brought your A-game, Doc. I know I have. Jasper did not quite work out as I had hoped, but I think Peter and I are going to be very good friends…

  The Haunting of Mason House

  By Riley Amitrani

  Prologue

  18:32

  3rd September 1901

  Mason House

  Yorkshire

  It will be better without him. You know it will.

  Margaret Mason was rocking her baby to sleep when she heard the voice. She was sitting in the rocking chair in the child’s nursery in the attic. As soon as she heard it, she stopped and looked down at her baby, Richard. He was lying in the crook of her arm. His eyelids were fluttering closed and his mouth was making small suckling movements at the air.

  He couldn’t have said that. She said to herself. He’s barely two months old. He can’t speak yet.

  “Is everything alright, ma’am?” The nanny, Ellen was hovering at the door. Margaret gestured for her to come into the room. Ellen came into the nursery. She picked up the discarded peg dolls and paper windmill off of the floor and set them down on the table. She took baby Richard out of her Margaret’s arms. “I can set him to sleep, ma’am. Then I’ll tidy up and get Henry to bed.”

  We’d be better without Henry. Then it could just be you and me.

  Margaret shook her head and made a shushing sound out loud. She looked to Ellen, who she realised was still watching her. Ellen put her hand on Margaret’s arm and gestured her out of the room. Margaret walked down her hallway to the staircase. You know things would be better. The voice spoke again. She headed into the drawing room and looked around. She looked at her smart armchairs, and the fireplace and her collection of books. These were all of the nice things she had before she had two children. Her husband would soon be wanting a third child. She had barely healed from birth, yet she could tell he would be making requests for another child. You can’t cope with two of us, can you?

  She could hear Richard crying upstairs. Then Ellen started to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to him. Her voice was so sweet. Margaret could never sing like that. She would never be such a good mum to her boys. The crying subdued.

  “What on earth are you doing Margaret?” Margaret looked up from the piano she had been vacantly staring at. Her husband, John, was standing in the doorway. He was wearing his work clothes. Tucked under his arm was a newspaper. “Why are you standing about doing nothing? What’s for dinner?”

  Margaret stood up and mumbled that she would go and get something ready. As she walked to go past him, he took the newspaper out from under his arm and held it out, blocking her way.

  “And do think about your appearance, Margaret. It’s been two months now since you gave birth.” He turned around and left the room. It would be so much easier if you only had one child.

  “Mother? Mother? Will you come and play with me?” She spun around. Her other son, Harry, was watching her. Just end it now. He was stood next to the piano. You’ll feel better afterward. He was holding a paper kite. I promise. “I want to fly my kite.” He came up and slipped his hand into his mother’s. He felt sticky to the touch, and Margaret recoiled away from him. You’re a dreadful mother. She could hear Richard upstairs, crying again and her husband slamming the door to the wardrobe in protest that Margaret had done such a bad job at running the household.

  “No, Henry, it’s time for your bath.” She squeezed his hand and led him upstairs to his room in the attic, which was next to the baby’s nursery. You’re a dreadful wife. She could hear the nanny next door singing to the baby. Margaret took the pan of water, which was warming above the fire and poured it into the tin bath. She checked the temperature with her elbow. She helped him undress and get into the water. She sat next to him as he splashed about. He then started to suck his thumb and get tired. She watched as his eyes started to droop. His eyes shut. He started to sink lower and lower until his chin was under the water, then his mouth, then his nose. She watched as a few bubbles came up to the surface. She didn’t wake him. She sat and watched until there were no more bubbles. She closed her eyes. The voice had stopped, and all was calm and quiet.

  Location, Location

  14:23

  12th July 2017

  Mason House

  Yorkshire

  “You take a left here,” Jo said out loud, squinting to see the map on her phone. She looked up at the street sign, just as they drove past it. “I said left.”

  “Sorry,” Gavin sighed. “I missed it.” He ran his hand through his hair. Jo looked out at the window as they left the Manchester suburbs and were passing trees and farmers’ fields. “Are you sure you want to keep looking today?”

  “Yes. We have to find somewhere soon. It’s not fair to Sean and Emily to share that room anymore. Turn around here,” Jo said. Gavin obliged and turned off left into a narrow road, no wider than one vehicle. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at the cars streaming past them.

  “Well, it’s too busy to reverse onto that road.”

  “Drive up here, and there will be somewhere to turn around.”

  “Or a tractor coming the other way,” Gavin grumbled. He started driving down the track.

  Jo and Gavin were looking for a house in Manchester. It wasn't going well. The ones they had viewed so far looked like drug dens. Or they had no garden for their children Emily and Sean. A few weeks ago, they had been so excited that they could afford to buy a place somewhere, but now the reality of what they could actually afford was taking away the excitement. All they wanted was somewhere where their children would grow up safe and happy.

  "Look, can't you turn around there?" Jo pointed to a gap in the hedge where there was a stone gravel drive.

  "That's someone's driveway."

  "So?" Jo said. "There's nowhere else to turn around." Gavin sighed but obliged. He turned into the driveway. In front of them was a large detached house. It had a chocolate box front, with sash windows and spacious but overgrown grounds.

  "This is beautiful," Gavin said. "Shame we can't afford it." He gestured at the sale board outside. He stopped the car. They looked at the house, it's overgrown frontage and boarded up lower windows suggested it was unoccupied. "Can we just stop here for a minute
and work out where we are going next?" He said. Jo nodded, but instead of searching on the internet for their next destination, she searched online for the name of the estate agent on the for sale board. She scrolled through until she found the property they were outside of. It was a four bedroom, two bathroom, vacant possession. She looked at the price.

  "Gavin?" Jo said. He grunted a sound of recognition. "It's in our price range."

  "You must be joking. This isn't anywhere near our price range. Try double."

  "Look," she thrusted the phone at his face. His eyes widened with astonishment. He grabbed the phone off of her and looked at it.

  "This must be some kind of mistake," he said.

  "Let's go and have a look."

  They got out of the car and walked up to the house. Jo went to the side gate. It was unlocked. She opened it and saw that the garden went back at least 200 feet. She walked cautiously into the garden and peered into one of the back windows. She could see a country style kitchen with butler sink. It was dated, but charming.

  She walked up to the next window and peered in. It was a living room. There were high ceilings, fireplaces, and a picture rail going around the room. She saw someone move inside. It was a young boy, no older than two or three. He saw her and ran out of the living room into an adjoining room. Jo jumped away from the window. The house wasn't vacant after all.

  "Gavin," she hissed. "We need to go. People are living here." He was in the garden looking around. She ran up to him and grabbed his hand. They ran away to the front of the house and jumped in the car, giggling like naughty schoolchildren.

  “I thought you said it was vacant?” Gavin laughed. He started to drive towards the city centre, where they lived in a rented apartment.

  “It says online that it’s vacant. How was I supposed to know? It was nice though wasn’t it?”

  “The house. Yes. But as I said, it must be some kind of mistake. We couldn’t afford a place like that.”

  ***

  “Hi, I’m Jack from Harris and Wilson.” The estate agent, a man in his twenties in a shiny blue suit, stuck his hand out and enthusiastically shook Jo’s hand and Gavin’s hand. “Come on inside.” It was the next day, and they were back at Mason Manor. Mason Manor was also known as Mason House. He ushered them inside the house. Jo paused and took in the hallway with a grand sweeping staircase. The floorboards creaked as they walked about.

  “So this was built in about 1863. It’s always been owned by one family. The current owner has a place in London and has never lived here.”

  “Why so cheap? What’s the catch?” Gavin said. He walked into the lounge. There were dusty white sheets covering the furniture. As he walked through the floorboards creaked, the sound echoing through the building.

  “The owner needs the money quickly. He’s going into a care home, so finding a buyer who can move quickly is ideal.”

  Jo walked up to Gavin and leaned into his ear. “He means a cash buyer. If your mum would lend us the money then we could get this place, then we can sort out the mortgage later.” Gavin nodded, but didn’t answer.

  “You’re lucky. You’re the first people to see this house. I just put the sign out yesterday,” Jack said. “We haven’t even advertised it yet.”

  “But there was someone in the house yesterday. Did you not show a family around?” Jo said, thinking back to the boy she saw through the window. “No one has been here in the last couple of weeks apart from me to take the photographs. Not even the owner.”

  Jo thought it was strange she saw a child through the window. But maybe it was just her imagination. Or maybe she had seen the reflection of a child on the window, and the child was actually in the garden. It didn’t matter anyway. She headed outside to the back garden. Gavin followed. It was as spacious and as beautiful as she had remembered. There was a muddy area where there once would have been a large pond. There were broken flower pots. There were mature trees with gnarled branches. Jo felt like she had discovered a secret garden. She would soon bring the garden back to life.

  “Well, this place would be inspiring, wouldn’t it?” Gavin said. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She nodded. He was right. It would be perfect. “You can start working again.” Jo felt a twinge in her stomach. Since having her children, she had struggled to do any work. She had been an illustrator of children’s books. She thought having children would only give her more inspiration and motivation to work. But she was surprised that the opposite had happened and she had lost her creativity. At first, she thought she had baby brain, then she had convinced herself that she wanted to concentrate on the children. But now they were older, and at school, she had no excuse to admit that she was struggling to work.

  “Yes, this is a lovely garden,” Jo said. She went inside, keen to avoid any more talk about her lack of work. She headed into the kitchen. It was small but homely. She then found a dining room. It was wood panelled, with wallpaper above it, peeling off the walls. She headed back into the hallway and up the stairs. She explored the four bedrooms. Even the smallest of the rooms was still a large double. That would mean that Emily and Sean wouldn’t fight over who got each room. They would both have a lovely room to grow up in. She headed into the bathroom. It was more modern than the rest of the house, but the avocado suite was still not up to today’s standards.

  “Wow, this bedroom is a great size,” Gavin’s voice came from the main bedroom. The estate agent was downstairs talking to the next couple viewing the property. Jo looked around the hallway and noticed a closed door. She opened it, and it revealed a narrow wooden staircase. She started to climb up it. It was very steep and headed into the attic. It was a large room with full ceiling height. But it was dark, the windows blacked out. She reached and found a light pull. She pulled it, and a bare bulb flickered into life. It was a room used for storage. She saw a pile of old suitcases and boxes in the corner. She walked up to one and had a look. The belongings looked very old, like they hadn’t been touched in years. There was a large piece of furniture in the corner covered by a sheet. She pulled it off, and dust went flying into the air. It was a large mirror. She saw something move in the reflection. It was on the floor behind her. She spun around and looked. It was a paper kite in the middle of the floor. She walked over to it and picked it up. The paper was old and fell apart in her hands like delicate moth wings. It must have been on the floor in the same place for years. She bent down and put its remains back on the floor, feeling sad for disturbing something which had been in the same place for so long. As she did so, the light in the attic went out. She heard a loud scream, then realised it was coming from her.

  A New Home

  Gavin ran up the steps two at a time and threw open the door.

  “What the hell has happened?” He shouted at Jo, who was crouched on the floor.

  “I’m sorry. The light went off, and it frightened me,” she said. She started to laugh embarrassed at the fuss. The estate agent came up the stairs.

  “The electrical system needs rewiring,” he said. “But like I said, this place is priced to sell.”

  ***

  Three weeks later and they were moving in. Gavin’s mum had lent them the money, as they knew they would need to act quickly before anyone else snapped it up.

  “That’s for the main bedroom, top of the stairs on the left,” Jo said to the delivery man who was carrying in their belongings. It had been barely worth paying for a delivery man. All they owned were clothes, a few knick-knacks, and some flat pack furniture. Now they wouldn’t have to worry about being evicted every year. They would be able to invest in some nice furniture. She watched as the man carried a box upstairs. She stood outside and looked at their beautiful home. They needed to do a lot of work.

  “Staring at it won’t fix it any quicker,” Gavin said. He laughed as he passed her as he carried in a box marked ‘kettle.’ She followed him into the kitchen, and he made everyone a coffee.

  “Mum, mum!” S
ean came running into the kitchen and practically threw himself into Jo. His hands started pulling at her arms and her top. Jo put the kettle down and picked him up.

  “Hey you, not when mum is holding a kettle. You need to be more careful!” Sean wriggled away from her and jumped out of her arms. For a four-year-old, he was surprisingly quick and strong.

  “Come and see my room mum…it’s massive!” He jumped up and down on the spot and spread his arms as wide as he could. Jo giggled.

  “I will in a minute. Where’s your sister?” Jo said. Gavin came in, followed by Emily. Emily was holding her dolly lulu, and sucking her thumb. At seven, she was far too old for that, but the doctor had told them not to worry about her doing it at home.

  “Hey Emily, what do you think of your new home?” Jo bent down to her seven-year-old’s height and ran her hand through Emily’s golden hair. Her hair bobble had fallen out. Jo got a spare one from off of her wrist and started to French plait her hair. Emily stayed still. She was always very well behaved. Sean had to be chased around their own flat in circles before he could be wrestled into the bath.

  “It’s ok. I miss our old flat.” She said.

  “That’s ok. I miss it too.” Jo said, tying up the end of the plait. She turned Emily around to face her. “But do you know what? I think what we really miss is all the memories we made there. And we can make lots more memories here too. Shall we go and see your bedroom?” Emily nodded and stuck her hand out.

  Jo lead her upstairs and opened the door to the bedroom. Emily gasped when she saw it. It was painted pure white from the walls, the ceiling, and even the wooden floorboards. There were pink flower stickers on the wall, and a bunk bed with a desk underneath. In the corner was her wardrobe and next to it a new indoor tent which was pink with a gold flag on top. It was the girly, princess room she had always said she had wanted and could never when she shared with Sean.

 

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