“I’ve read your story, Mimi, I know that you couldn’t find the letter, when you at last wanted to read it. Mrs Winterford, I think, maybe, you’re still here because you want so much for Mimi to read it.”
A light breeze lifted Izzy’s hair, and the chill got stronger. Beau fluffed up his tail and kept staring at the steps. Around her, the hallway echoed with soft sobbing – no screams this time, just heartbreaking despairing crying.
“I will find the letter if I can, I will try to help you.”
The sobbing continued, but the chill lifted, and Izzy had the most disconcerting sensation, as if a hand touched hers.
Chapter Eight
Izzy slept well, for the first time in days, and woke with renewed energy for cleaning and restoring her house. When she stopped in the late afternoon, her phone rang, and she grabbed it hopefully. With any luck, it might be a client with a job for her – some cashflow would be very welcome right now!
Instead, it was the retirement home. They had found something – what seemed to be a very old packet of letters, wrapped in oilskin, which was tucked in behind a crack in the back panelling of the wardrobe in aunt Jemima’s room. For a moment, the room spun around Izzy – this was way more than she had expected, so fast – and it was wonderful – maybe it even was ‘the letter’! The people at the home were sending it over by courier right away.
An hour later, as the darkness closed in on the house, she stood in the hallway, holding the oilskin packet. Unfolding it carefully she laid aside a collection of clippings and other papers, putting them down on the hall table beside the book, and looked at the envelope in her hand.
“Mimi, Ella, Mrs Winterford? Are you here? I have the letter.”
The breeze lifted her hair, and the air chilled almost immediately. The air around her shimmered, as if there was something there, that she couldn’t quite see.
“I’m going to open the letter now.”
Izzy started as invisible hands touched hers, patted her hair, patted her back. She split the old seal on the envelope, careful with the crackly dry old paper, and unfolded the letter. It was short, written in a hand that was a little shaky, as if the person who had written it was very weak. She began to read.
“My dear Mimi, I am so very sorry – for everything. It is only now that I am close to death that I can see and think clearly. It’s as if Ella comes to me when I dream, and sometimes when I wake, and talks to me. She tells me not to blame you, that she doesn’t, she loves you, like she always did, and so should I.
She is so wise. She reminded me that the two of you always fought, just like most siblings, and that in any fight, both of you could be said to be at fault. So, if anyone is to blame for her death, it’s her as much as you – if she hadn’t fought with you, she wouldn’t have been in a place where she could fall.
I wish I could have spoken to you again before I die, but you wouldn’t come. I suppose I deserve that, after the way I have treated you. So please, understand that I am so, so, sorry, I do love you, and I hate myself for what I have done. Please, if you possibly can, forgive me, and live the best life you can. Ella will come for me soon, and I am ready to go.
Love Mother.”
Izzy stopped, and looked up at the stairs, her eyes filled with tears. At first, nothing happened – the room stayed cold, and silent. Then, like a shimmery reflection in her tears Izzy saw something. Out of the empty air at the top of the stairs, the translucent figure of a girl, dressed in century old clothing, appeared.
She smiled, and walked down the steps. As she neared the bottom, another two figures materialised – another girl nearly the same age, and a woman, holding out her hands to both of them.
Izzy was frozen in place, amazed at what she saw, still crying, but happy tears now.
The ghost woman took the hands of both ghost children, they all smiled at Izzy, then turned and walked away right through the hall table and the book resting on it, fading out as they did so. The chill in the air went with them, and the room filled with warmth, and the scent of spring flowers.
The book opened, all by itself, to the last page.
On the page of the book, writing appeared, beautiful script which looked like the writing in Jemima’s hand in her mid-twenties, scrolling onto the page as if an invisible pen wrote there.
‘Goodbye Isabella, godchild, descendant of my heart, our blessings and thank you’
Followed by Jemima’s signature.
Izzy stared at it in wonder, then gathered up the book and the papers, and went into the parlour to uncover the painting. It was right that they see the world with happy faces again.
Epilogue
A year later.
Izzy curled on the couch, her head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, Beau purring on her lap, and looked up at the painting of aunt Jemima and her family. So much had happened in the last year!
She was happy, she had a new relationship that was wonderful, the house was fully restored (using the surprisingly large sum that had come back from the bond at the retirement home), and there had been no further supernatural events since the day that she had read the letter in the hallway.
Well, not quite none. Every time she walked through the hall, or up the stairs, the air was warm and smelled of springtime – no matter what time of year it was. It reminded her, every time, to live life to the fullest, and forgive, and love.
She was going to do that, today, and every day hereafter.
About Raven Blackwood:
Raven Blackwood is an emerging author of classical ghost stories. To find out more about her work, visit her Facebook page and Website:
www.facebook.com/pg/RavenBlackwoodAuthor/
www.dreamstonepublishing.com/raven-blackwood-author/
Her novel The Haunting of Grove Manor is coming soon!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lee Mountford was born and raised in the North East of England, in the small town of Ferryhill. Not much happens there, but it has a surprisingly dark history. This probably helped cultivate his love of horror.
He is an emerging author with a huge passion for the genre, and The Demonic is his second novel.
He still lives in in the North East of England, with his amazing wife, Michelle. They are currently expecting their first child.
For more information
www.leemountford.com
[email protected]
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks first and foremost to my editor, Josiah Davis (http://www.jdbookservices.com), for such an amazing job.
The cover was supplied by Debbie at The Cover Collection (http://www.thecovercollection.com). I cannot recommend their work enough.
Thanks as well to fellow author—and guru extraordinaire—Iain Rob Wright for all of his fantastic advice and guidance. If you don’t know who Iain is, remedy that now: http://www.iainrobwright.com. An amazing author with a brilliant body of work.
And the last thank you, as always, is the most important—to my amazing wife, Michelle. You are my world. Thank you for everything.
Copyright © 2017 by Lee Mountford
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The contributed short stories by fellow authors contained in this book have been used with their express permission.
Created with Vellum
Table of Contents
Dedication
Table of Contents
Free Books
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
C
hapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
The Brass Farm Murders
Also by Lee Mountford
The Demon of Dunton Farm
Short Story Contributions
The Muse
The Haunting of Elderfield Hall
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Copyright
The Demonic: A Supernatural Horror Novel Page 21
