by Mina Carter
“After Jeremy died, the house went to a cousin as he had no kids. Rupert Frippe wasn’t a particularly nice man. There’s loads of accounts of him whipping servants, getting into fights with his neighbours and generally being a bastard. He was finally prosecuted after he was caught trying to rape the twelve year old son of one of his neighbours.
“There’s nothing else after that until the later seventeen hundreds. George Frippe inherited the house. He and his wife Charlotte had five kids, four of them girls. He was pretty well off and gave the whole house a bit of an overhaul. He was a local magistrate for a few years and seemed to be a pretty upstanding sort of guy, until his wife died. I can’t find out how she died, but it changed him completely. He became obsessed with the idea his daughters had poisoned their mother. He finally lost it totally and murdered all his daughters and then killed himself.”
“Oh God! That’s awful!” Becky exclaimed. Had those four girls been killed inside the house? Were they still there, wanting revenge?
“His son Lovell inherited the house, but he was only fifteen, so a guardian was appointed. The guardian was Henry Kennet.”
“As in the solicitors?” Becky frowned. She knew the two families had been friends for a long time, but she hadn’t realised quite how long.
“As far as I can tell. Anyway, Henry Kennet was a bit of an arsehole. He forced Lovell to marry his daughter so Frippe House would be in the Kennet family. Lovell mucked up that idea though. He disappeared. He left a note saying he was going to sea and was never heard of again.
“The house then went to a distant cousin of Lovell Frippe. His name was Reynold Torrence. He changed his surname to Frippe when he got the house. There’s nothing else about him that I could find, so guess he missed the arsehole gene.
“In eighteen seventeen, the house came into the possession of Barnabas Frippe. He seemed to be rather a social climber and tried to get a local heiress to elope with him. They were caught and he deserted her to marry Elizabeth Kennet.”
“The Kennett’s again. They seem pretty tightly woven with the history of the house,” Heath commented thoughtfully.
“There’s rumours of Barnabas beating his wife a lot, but she still had seven kids with him. The oldest son, Morley was the father of Honoria, the ghost we were told about. I found all the stuff about her suicide, but nothing else about what happened in the house after that.”
Becky chewed her bottom lip. Frippe House hadn’t been a happy home for a lot of the people who had lived there, but none of what Imy had found explained either the effigy or the strange goings-on. They were none the wiser.
As Becky and Heath told Imy and Brenda about the investigators they had found online, they all discussed whether to reveal everything that had happened or whether to keep it all quiet and just tell the investigators there had been some strange incidents without going into detail. They settled on just mentioning the smaller things and the fact a strange effigy had been found, but they would keep the other details back to begin with.
Before Becky could get round to sending an email, her phone rang. It was Dan.
“How’s the house?” he started with.
“We’re not there. There’s been some strange stuff going on. We’re at a friend’s flat for now.” Becky didn’t want to assume too much. Heath hadn’t offered to let them sleep there, so she would have to play that by ear.
“What happened?”
“I doubt you’d believe me. I don’t believe it myself. Put it this way, I’m looking into getting a paranormal investigator in.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. It’s been really nuts.”
“I better come down tomorrow then.” Ever since Jeff had cleared off with the bimbo, Dan had tried his best to be the man of the house, right down to learning how to do DIY so his father’s skill absence wouldn’t be noticed.
“There’s no need, love. We can manage.”
“I know you can, but I should be there to help you. I could even drive down tonight.”
“Dan, I don’t even know where we’ll be sleeping tonight.”
“You’ll be sleeping here,” Heath told her sternly. Becky gave him a grateful smile. “Your son can come as soon as he wants. I’ve got room, as long as he’s okay sleeping on the sofa.”
“Okay, you can come tonight, but what about work?” Becky didn’t want him losing his job.
“I’ll give Steve a call and explain. I can tell him it’s a family emergency, which won’t be a lie.
* * *
Two and a half hours later, Dan was sitting in Heath’s flat, hearing all about the strangeness of Frippe House. When Becky finished up with telling him about the effigy sitting up, he gasped in shock.
“No wonder you cleared out! Anyone would have freaked at that!” Dan frowned at the pictures on his younger sister’s laptop. He hadn’t said a word the whole time he was being told about Frippe House. “I think it probably is worth getting in someone who knows more about this stuff.”
“That can all wait until the morning,” Heath said quietly. “I think we should hit the hay for tonight.”
* * *
Becky was filled with trepidation as they pulled up outside Frippe House in the morning. Heath wasn’t working, so he had come along too. It was nine in the morning and Dan wanted the chance to look around the house before anyone else arrived. Although Becky had told the historians they could come back after ten, she hoped they would all stay away.
They all got out of the cars. Becky and her mother were in hers; Imy was with Dan, and Heath had come in his Land Rover. He had contacted the police station in Wimborne and spoken to a sergeant. He hadn’t told Becky any of what had been said though. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The sergeant would probably think she was nuts.
Waiting until everyone was ready to go in, Becky unlocked the front door and pushed it open, but didn’t enter. The air rushing out of the house felt too cold. It hit her full in the face, carrying with it an odd smell she couldn’t pinpoint. Wrinkling her nose as she shuddered, she waited for a sign one of the others was prepared to go in before she took a step.
“Is it usually this cold?” Dan asked, looking down at his mother in concern.
“It hasn’t been. The house is cool inside, but not cold. Anyone know what that weird smell is?”
“I know,” Heath said grimly. “It’s a body decomposing.”
“That is so not good,” Imy muttered.
“How can it smell of that?” Brenda asked quietly. She looked like she didn’t want to go in and Becky didn’t blame her one little bit.
“You wait out here.” Dan announced decisively. “Me and Heath can take a look round and make sure there’s no one here.”
Much as Becky wanted to object to her son going in somewhere that might not be safe, she had tried not to undermine his efforts to be an adult. He was almost eighteen now, and old enough to be making his own choices.
Waiting nervously with an arm around both Imy and her mother, Becky peered into the house, her eyes staying on Daniel as he opened a couple of doors and peered inside the rooms. The smell of decomposition continued to waft out to her, making her want to turn away, but refused to take her eyes off Dan.
When the two men headed into the kitchen, Becky swallowed loudly.
“Mum?!”
She jumped at Dan’s shout and ran to him immediately, then stopped dead in the kitchen doorway and stared at the figure in the other doorway that led to the storage rooms.
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” she gasped.
There stood the effigy.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BECKY STOOD STOCK still, staring at the effigy that seemed to be looking straight back at her. How the hell had it got there?
“Who moved it?” Heath murmured, knowing full well it had still been in the coffin when they had locked up and left the night before. Becky had no idea what to say in response.
Plucking up her courage, she took a step towards it. Now it was in daylig
ht, it looked even more realistic, apart from the soft, waxy sheen. The eyes didn’t look glass anymore; they looked like real eyes, adding to the effect of it looking back at her.
Reaching the effigy, Becky stopped, standing almost toe to toe with it. If she didn’t know better, she would swear they eyes were focusing on her.
“Who are you?” she whispered. It was a bit easier to be brave with morning sun streaming in the window. “What do you want?”
She jumped back when the eyes moved. “Fuck!”
“What happened?” Heath was immediately at her side, drawing her away from it.
“Its eyes moved!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! It was looking at me, then they moved to the side a bit.” Becky looked round and realised the effigy had shifted its gaze to Dan. “Dan, get out now,” she ordered. She didn’t want either of her children near it. She and Heath hurried out after the teenager.
Dan shot outside, clearly wanting to get as far from the effigy as he could. Before Becky and Heath could join them, the front door slammed shut.
“You let her out,” a soft voice whispered and Becky squealed. Between them and the door, a vaguely human-shaped patch of white mist appeared. “You let her out,” it said again.
“Who?” Becky squeaked, petrified. She clung to Heath and felt him shaking too.
“You let her out.”
“Who is she?” Becky shouted frantically. She had no idea whose voice was speaking, but she had to try and get some answers.
“The house,” the voice replied at last. The mist faded and the door swung open.
Dan was stood right in front of it, slowly lowering his hand as if he’d been knocking, although Becky hadn’t heard anything.
“What was that?” Dan demanded.
Becky shook her head, not sure she could believe what she had just seen and heard. Had it been Honoria? And if it was, what did she know about the effigy?
“I think we just saw a ghost,” Heath told him, sounding shaken. Becky felt decidedly unsteady herself, shaking from head to toe. She grabbed her handbag from where she’d left it on the car bonnet and searched inside for a cigarette to light.
Before they could talk about the strange incident any more, Xander pulled up next to them, looking decidedly put out.
“I’ve had bloody historians phoning me up all damn night,” he announced. He’d lost his polished, well-turned out appearance and looked dishevelled instead. “They’re trying to get me to put a halt to you inheriting, saying this place has historical significance. I’ve got the better of them though. I got on to the last executor in the early hours and got him to sign the papers and get them back to me by courier. The house and everything in it is yours to do what you like with.”
“Great. Can I burn it down?” Becky asked immediately.
“Pardon?”
“Sorry. Things have been weird. The effigy was in the kitchen when we got here and a ghost just locked us in for a few minutes to tell us we’d ‘let her out’, whatever that was supposed to mean.” Becky slumped back against the wall. Everything was spinning out of control and she wanted out. Permanently.
“Who could have moved it?” Xander asked, frowning. “If someone is staging an elaborate hoax, we need the police out.”
“We had a look at it before we left last night and it was sitting up,” Heath told him.
“And the symbol had vanished off the bedroom wall,” Becky added. “You saw it there, so you know it was real.”
“It wasn’t the sort of thing could have been cleaned off easily,” Xander commented thoughtfully, then added, “I think we need the police out to check the place over before we go any further.”
Although Becky didn’t think the police would do any good, she nodded. They could at least rule out a hoax before they went any further.
No one wanted to go inside while Heath rang the station and explained what was happening. Then they stood in silence until two police cars came along the drive.
Heath went to meet his colleagues and filled them in on what had been happening, explaining the solicitor dealing with the estate had wanted the whole place checked over for signs of a break in or hints that someone was trying to frighten Becky and her family away.
Becky had to admire Heath’s bravery at re-entering the house with the other police officers. She wasn’t sure she would ever go inside there again. Talking quietly with Xander about Imy’s research the night before, and the fact they had contacted some paranormal investigators, Becky and her family waited for his reaction. Becky expected the solicitor to scoff, but he didn’t.
The quiet conversation had long since died out by the time the police and Heath emerged once more. There was a flurry of activity and lots of coming and going between the two police cars, and then Heath finally approached.
“What’s going on?” Becky asked him worriedly. His expression said quite clearly something was seriously amiss.
“It’s not an effigy,” he replied. “It’s a body. And it’s moved again.”
“What?!” Becky wanted him to take the words back. How could it be a body? It was so clearly wax.
“We took a closer look at it and if you look in the hair, you can see its real, not implanted into something made of wax. I don’t know how that sort of thing can be done. Some bodies do develop a kind of waxy coating over time. There’s a proper name for the process that I can’t remember. That’s not what this is though. This seems to have been deliberately done.”
“So now what? What did the others say about it moving?”
“I didn’t say anything about it moving,” Heath told her. “It’s about one step further into the kitchen than when we went in earlier. As for what happens now, I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Just the fact it’s a corpse and its standing is strange enough, so no one is quite sure what the next step is.”
For the next few hours, the house was bustling with police, forensic people and a coroner. Although the body was old, they still had to go through their procedures, and there was still the matter of whether someone had broken in. Rather than subjecting her family to any more shocks, Becky gave Dan some money and told him to take Imy and their grandmother away, suggesting they go shopping somewhere well away from Frippe house.
In amongst all this, Piran and a couple of the boffins had returned. They were shocked when they found out the effigy not only wasn’t an effigy but was also not where they had found it. Becky regretted her behaviour the day before and apologised for kicking everyone out. None of them seemed to be blaming her after the new developments. Feeling they weren’t the only ones she owed an apology, Becky wrote a long email to Mr Francis explaining everything that had gone on and apologising for taking it out on him. She added that the books were all hers to dispose of as she pleased and that he was welcome to come back in a couple of days to resume his investigation of the library. Hopefully he would understand she had been dealing with a lot of stress.
Seeing they weren’t going to be getting inside to study either the coffin or the body, the historians left and Piran went with them. Before he left, he apologised to Becky for deserting her, explaining he had to go to the museum as there wouldn’t be any developments at Frippe House for hours.
“Look, you’re not going to get inside until tomorrow at the earliest now,” Heath told Becky when Piran had left. “Why don’t you head back to mine? Grab a shower, get something to eat and relax a bit. You need a break from everything here.”
Becky couldn’t argue with that, though she felt a bit strange about making use of his home while he wasn’t there. Heath insisted, pressing he’s keys into her hand and promising to keep her in touch with what was going on. They were in the process of swapping mobile numbers when a man’s shriek came from inside the house.
“Stay here!” Heath told her when she made to run inside. Several of his colleagues shot through the door just after him.
A few minutes later, a burly policeman was helped out by two others. He
was white as a sheet and shaking violently.
“Now what?” Becky demanded of Heath when he came back outside. He looked ready to vomit. His face had a sheen of sweat and he also shook as he kept swallowing.
“He saw it move. It’s got one arm held out now. I don’t know what the hell that thing is, but it’s not natural. I think there’s been more than enough independent witnesses to what’s happened here to say without a doubt that it’s not something that can be explained away.” Heath shuffled awkwardly. “I’m starting to think your burning it down plan is the best option.”
Shaking her head, Becky sat down on the gravel. She’d had too many shocks for one day. It was bad enough the effigy had moved, but then it had turned out to be a corpse, and now someone had actually seen it moving. Maybe it wasn’t the house that needed burning. She doubted anyone would let her drag the effigy outside, pour petrol over it and watch it go up in flames though.
Rubbing her temples, she asked, “Can it be taken away or not?”
“Yes, the coroner is content for it to be removed.”
“How long until it can be cremated?”
“I’m not sure. The body is clearly a historical one, but it might have scientific significance, so it may be it can never be destroyed.”
“That thing shouldn’t exist.”
“If we still thought it was an effigy, you’d have the right to dispose of it however you liked. Now we know it’s a body, it won’t be considered your property.”
“I guessed that much. As long as someone can get it out of here. I’d suggest they put it in a locked box of some kind though.” Her tone was sarcastic, but she wasn’t joking. If the thing was moving, it needed locking up. Becky couldn’t believe she was even thinking about a Victorian corpse moving, let alone talking about it. She was completely out of her depth.
