by Bella Benz
“Raar!”
Nope. Not a soul to be seen.
I stood by the desk, not sure of what to do next. Maybe I’d imagined it all. Perhaps the stress of finding out about an uncle and moving into the middle of nowhere had unhinged me and I was hallucinating.
As I wondered what I should do next, I heard a strange shuffling noise.
Looking around, I saw a door I hadn’t noticed before. Someone was pushing a note underneath!
“That’s it. I’ve got you now.”
I stormed over, yanked the door open, rolling pin at the ready...
...to find myself facing a deserted cupboard. There was absolutely no one in it. There simply hadn’t been the time for someone to hide, even if there was somewhere for them to go, which there wasn’t. There were shelves piled high with stationery, so much so that there shouldn’t have been any space for someone to squeeze in there.
Yet there was a note on the floor which said otherwise.
Maybe I’m going crazy...
Picking up the note, I saw my name scribbled on the outside. Slowly, my mind in a whirl, I went and sat down at the chair behind the desk before opening up the note.
My darling niece Libby,
By now you should have realized that this is a very special place. I debated whether I should warn you about what you might find, but I decided that either you wouldn’t believe me or I’d scare you away. Please forgive me for my little omission.
The most important thing is that you’re here now, and I hope with all my heart that you’ll choose to stay. Rose is a wonderful housekeeper who’s been like a mother to me. I know she’ll look after you as well as she’s looked after me.
This house was never meant to be lived in by just one person. It is my dream that you will find someone to love and bring up the next generation of Fortunes right here in our ancestral home.
I’m sure you still have so many questions, and I wish I could be there to answer them in person. You may be wondering why I never came to see you after your father died. For reasons that will become clear, I couldn’t leave Lashire Bluff, and although I tried many a time to write you a letter, I could never think of the right words. Now it’s too late.
The longer you stay here, the more you will see and hear things which defy science. This is a very special place, both this house and the town as a whole. We do things a little differently here and it may take you a while to adjust.
But – and I cannot emphasize enough how important this is – Lashire Bluff is in your blood. You will never truly escape this place. I would advise you not to try. What happened to your father was inevitable once he made the decision to turn his back on his heritage. Don’t repeat his mistake.
Your ever-loving Uncle Gregory
I read and reread the letter, trying to figure out what on earth he was talking about. I didn’t like that final paragraph. It sounded a little too much like a threat to me. Why couldn’t he just tell me what I needed to know instead of leaving me all these enigmatic notes?
And who had pushed the note under the cupboard door?
Unless...
I went over to the cupboard and went down on my hands and knees, examining the floor closely.
“A-ha!”
I found exactly what I was looking for. I crowed triumphantly as I stood up holding a piece of thread so narrow it was almost invisible. My uncle must have rigged some kind of device that meant that once I came into the study, it would be triggered and push the note under the door. It looked like a ghost had been playing tricks on me, but it was just my uncle messing with me from beyond the grave.
All those strange noises I’d heard must have been recordings. I reckoned that if I went through the house and looked carefully, I’d find motion sensors and triggers which set off recordings to make me think I was living in a haunted mansion when really it was all the product of a man with more money than sense and more time than he knew what to do with. This must be how he had entertained himself – spending his days creating elaborate machines to fool visitors into thinking they were seeing ghosts.
I let out a sigh of relief, laughing a little at how silly I’d been. I didn’t care what my uncle said. There was always a logical explanation for everything.
Now I wasn’t worried about an intruder attacking me, I could relax and carry on exploring the house. And now I was here, I might as well get a good look at my uncle’s study. Maybe he had something interesting on his bookshelves. I needed a good book to read in bed.
Whoa.
As I examined my uncle’s book collection, I could understand why he kept this room locked. He was into some seriously dark things. He had books by Aleister Crowley, books covered with strange occult symbols, books which claimed to teach the reader how to summon spirits or tell the future.
What on earth were you doing, Uncle Gregory?
I’d seen enough. I decided to lock up the room and leave it for now. I didn’t even want to donate the books to charity – who would want them?
Just as I was leaving, I heard a gentle thud from one of the cupboards. Turning to see what had made the noise, I saw that a book had fallen from one of the shelves and was resting against the glass. When I opened the door, the book tumbled out, pages fluttering out.
I picked it up and realized that it was a diary of some kind. Flicking through it, I could see that it documented the last few months of my uncle’s life.
It looked like I’d found my bedtime reading after all.
Continuing my tour of the mansion, I realized none of the other rooms of the ground floor was half as interesting as my uncle’s study, so I moved upstairs.
It was nothing but bedroom after bedroom, each one looking like it’d come straight out of the pages of a glossy magazine. Although they were all luxurious, there was something soulless about rooms so perfect. This was a house, not a home.
I was beginning to feel sorry for my uncle. All that money, but he was alone with just a housekeeper and a niece he never bothered to contact.
I could relate. Although I’d had a happy childhood, that ended the day Mum died. I knew Dad loved me, but he’d retreated into himself. There was no room for me in his grief. And while I’d partied hard, not a single one of my so-called friends had reached out to me since I’d said I was moving out to Lashire Bluff.
At the end of a corridor was a pair of double doors. As I pushed them open, my jaw dropped. This must have been my uncle’s room. Or rather, suite.
A short corridor had a door on either side, one leading to a private bathroom, the other to a walk-in wardrobe that was bigger than my old bedroom. It opened up into an enormous room. The wall opposite was one huge window with breath-taking views across the mountains and town. Crossing over, I realized it was later in the day than I’d thought. I’d lost track of time with all the drama surrounding the study, and the sun was setting behind the mountains, bathing the town in a warm orange glow.
Tears sprang to my eyes with how beautiful it all was. And this was my home now, if I decided to stay.
Rose was right. There was no way I wasn’t going to take this room for my own. Although Uncle Gregory had good taste, I was already imagining how I was going to redecorate and where all my things were going to go.
Matthew was right. I needed to spend a couple of months here before walking away. I had to experience for myself what life in a small town was really like before turning my back on it.
Guess I was going to get my stuff shipped.
***
That night, I curled up in my new bed with Uncle Gregory’s diary, hoping it would give me new insights into the man. I’d found a cupboard filled with clean bedding and changed the bed before I slept in it. Rose had probably already done that, but I wasn’t going to take any risks. It might be beautiful, but it was still my uncle’s room and a little superstitious voice in my mind thought it weird to stay there.
Flicking through the diary, the first few entries seemed really boring, so I skipped through and opened
it at random to see if there was anything more interesting in it.
19th May. If force of will could keep someone alive, I’d live forever. I’ve fought this terrible disease for a long time and I still want to be here, but I can feel my strength fading. I want nothing more than to reach out to Libby, but I made a promise to my brother and I am nothing if not a man of my word. I know better than most what happens when you break your vow to the dead. I can only hope that she will understand when she learns the truth about her heritage.
25th May. The traditional town summer fayre approaches. I hope I will be well enough to fulfil my duty – it would not bode well if a Fortune failed to preside over the festivities.
1st June. Thank goodness I was able to take part in the fayre! I fear it will be my last one. What will Libby think when it is her turn to ride the goat?
Whoa! Ride a goat? What kind of weird traditions did they have going on in this place?
If they think they’re going to get me on the back of one of those creatures, they’re in for a rude awakening. Not going to happen in a million years!
8th June. The spirits are growing louder, no doubt because they can sense I will soon be joining their ranks. There are worse places to spend your eternity, I suppose. I can only hope the rituals will keep me going for long enough to put everything in place for Libby’s arrival. She deserves better.
23rd June. Maybe my brother had the right idea. Maybe I should have followed him, left this town to its inevitable fate.
18th July. I went for a walk in the mountains today. Looking down on Lashire Bluff, I couldn’t regret my choices, no matter how much pain they’ve caused me over the years. There are days when it is harder to be a Fortune, but at times like these, I feel like the luckiest man alive.
No doubt Rose will be cross when she discovers I’ve disobeyed doctor’s orders to go out for so long, but I refuse to lie in bed and wait to die. I want to feel the sun on my skin, the breeze ruffling my hair. I’m going to be dead a long time. Let me live while I still can.
That was the last entry. Even though my uncle had held out against the cancer which finally took him for a few more months, he must have decided he didn’t want to use any of that time writing.
Flipping through to the back of the book, I discovered there was a little pocket in the cover which contained a few more documents. I pulled them out and gasped when I found what could only be a photo of my dad and uncle when they were young. They were virtually identical, the only difference being that Uncle Gregory was around ten years older than my dad. My uncle had his arm around his brother and the two of them were smiling at the camera, happiness radiating out from both their faces. Going by the background, it looked like they were standing in front of the mansion.
Which meant my dad knew what he was turning his back on when he walked away from his family. It must have been some argument to make him give up all that money and paint houses for a living.
The rest of the documents were letters my uncle had written to my dad, all in envelopes marked ‘return to sender’. Reading through them, I could feel my heart breaking. They all said similar things – begging my dad to come home, telling him he needed to bring me here to prepare me for what was to come, saying he was being unfair to deny me my heritage.
The ones written after my uncle’s cancer diagnosis were even worse. A couple of them were tear stained as he reminded my dad of his obligations that went ‘beyond family’. He pleaded with him to let me come visit so he could ‘train’ me in the ways of Fortune.
This was all too weird.
“Miaow!”
I jumped as Shelley suddenly leapt onto the bed, landing on my feet. He started kneading at them, purring loudly.
“You know, you’re right,” I said. “It is time for us to get some sleep. Come on, then.”
I lifted up the blankets, patting at the bed for him to get comfortable with me. He crawled underneath the covers and curled up in his usual spot next to me.
I put my uncle’s diary on the bedside table and clapped my hands to turn off the lights.
Yes, the lights were sound activated. I was that lucky.
***
Shelley was gone by the time I woke up next morning, no doubt gone to see if Rose was around to give him some food. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up with a very fat cat with the way she’d been spoiling him with fresh meat instead of shop-bought cat food.
Throwing on some clothes, I went downstairs to see what was for breakfast. I was getting used to seeing Rose’s smile first thing in the morning. However, when I went into the kitchen, it was deserted.
Pouting a little, I checked the cupboards until I found some cereal.
Careful now, Libby. You’re getting spoilt already. You’re more than capable of making your own breakfast!
Splashing some milk over a bowl of cornflakes, I took it out to a conservatory at the back of the house I’d discovered yesterday. It was a little chilly in the winter air, but there was a blanket draped over a chair, and I wrapped it around myself before settling into a chair looking out over the valleys.
As I ate my breakfast, I decided I’d go for a drive once I’d finished eating. My uncle’s garage housed some of my dream cars, and it was time I took one of those babies for a spin. Matthew had taken me on a tour of the town, so I figured I’d go in the opposite direction, leave the valleys for a bit and see what I could find in the next valley.
“Maybe there’ll be a cinema in the next town,” I said to myself.
CRASH!
As the words left my lips, the panes of glass in the conservatory walls around me shattered into a million pieces. I ducked into the blanket as glass rained down around me.
“Whoa!”
Ice cold wind swept through the exposed holes, making an angry whistling sound as it hit me square in the face.
Pulling the blanket tight around me, I ran out of the conservatory, the door slamming shut behind me although I barely touched it.
Guess I wasn’t going anywhere until I got the glass fixed.
Pulling out my phone, I tried to ring Matthew to see if he knew anyone who could help me, but I didn’t have any reception. As I made my way to the landline in the kitchen, I held the phone up, angling it around to see if I could pick up a signal, but nothing.
Thank goodness the landline was working. I copied Matthew’s number from my contacts and waited for him to pick up.
“Libby? Is that you? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m okay, but the same can’t be said for the house.”
“What happened?”
“It was so weird. I was sitting in the conservatory thinking about what I was going to do today when all the glass suddenly shattered. And I mean all the glass. It was like someone smashed them all on purpose.”
“That must have been scary. Did you say something to make the spirits in the house angry?”
“S-spirits? Do you really think they could have done that?”
Matthew laughed. “I’m teasing. Of course not. No, it sounds more like it was just one of those things.”
“What – all the glass smashing at the same time like that?”
“Yep. It’s not common, but it happens. Sometimes, when glass is installed, there isn’t enough space for the glass to move, so it develops internal stresses which will eventually make the glass break. Either that or someone put in glass that was too thin so when it gets hit by a strong enough gust of wind, it breaks.”
“It was really windy...” I said. “But even so, that glass looked like it had been there for a long time. Why would it break now?”
“Who can say?” I could practically hear Matthew shrugging. “Unless you really did upset the ghosts in the house.”
“Stop joking about that,” I warned him. “It’s not funny. Although I’ve been finding a few things about the place which suggest Uncle Gregory rigged a few practical jokes. Looks like all these ghosts everyone’s so scared of are nothing more than my uncle
pulling the wool over your eyes.”
“Yeah, well, even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter,” Matthew told me. “I’m telling you now, no glazier’s going to come up to the mansion. They’re all too afraid of what they might see.”
“You kidding me?” My heart sank. “What am I going to do?”
“Luckily for you, I happen to be really good at DIY. I can bring my brother Jacob and the pair of us can put some stronger glass in for you, glass no poltergeist will be able to smash.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. “I can’t leave the house without anyone here until it’s fixed and I really wanted to go out today. Speaking of which, is your mum okay? She wasn’t here this morning.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that. She must have forgotten to tell you. Today’s the monthly craft fayre in town. Ma always has a stall selling her cakes. Gregory used to give her the day off as long as she baked one for him.”
“Sounds like a fair deal,” I said. “You guys certainly seem to like your fayres around here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found my uncle’s diary. He talked about the traditional summer fayre. Said something about me having to ride a goat...?”
Matthew laughed. “Gregory’s hilarious. He must have known you’d eventually read his diary. No, you don’t have to ride a goat at the summer fayre – or the winter one either, which is coming up. But as the Fortune of the town, you have to take part in a little ritual which is supposed to bless Lashire Bluff. There’s a little procession and you give an offering of food and drink to the river. It’s actually rather moving, and if you really wanted to ride a goat, I’m sure it could be arranged.”
“I think I’ll pass if it’s all the same to you.” I laughed with him. “Look, how soon do you think you can be here? I’m getting stir crazy sitting about the place.” And even though I’d discovered my uncle’s trick with the string and envelope, I still felt like someone was watching me the whole time.
“I’ll come up and measure the windows so I can order the glass,” Matthew said. “I can give the look over the rest of the place if you like, make sure there aren’t any other windows about to implode on you. You can go and check out the craft fayre while I’m doing that if you like.”
