Ghosts and Hauntings

by SIMS, MAYNARD

  ‘Here, I’ll take you. Quiet today.’

  She lifted a flap in the counter and squeezed herself out. She was about five feet four tall and must have weighed over eighteen stone. She wobbled across to Magdalene, a wide smile on her face. ‘Feeling a bit peckish myself now I come to think about it. Might join you.’

  Magdalene’s face must have portrayed what she thought of that idea because the woman immediately retracted the idea. ‘Nearly forgot, the swimming pool needs its weekly filtering out.’

  ‘You’ve got a pool?’ Magdalene couldn’t help but sound surprised.

  The woman was leading the way through a narrow hallway that smelled nicely of furniture polish. ‘Oh yes, pool and a gym. Doesn’t get used much these days but we’ve got all the mod cons.’

  At the end of the hallway it opened out into a wide area with sofas and easy chairs, a kind of lounge area. There was no one there.

  The woman busied herself at a lectern where she seemed to be checking names off against numbers. ‘Come on, dear, we’ll get you a nice table near the window, look out over the garden.’

  The table was in a small alcove, a leaded window open, and the garden outside empty and quiet but quite beautiful.

  The woman waddled away and came back moments later with a menu clad in mock brown leather. ‘Forgetting my manners in all the excitement. I’m Mattie. Mattie Williams. My partner and I own this place.’

  Magdalene introduced herself and asked about wine. She was relaxing now and even if she drank a bit too much she could quickly find a layby and have a doze.

  She ordered a bottle of Sancerre which pleased Mattie no end, who left to fetch it.

  The menu was extensive and seemed surprisingly sophisticated. She was really hungry now and the starter of clam chowder, followed by a chicken in cream and white wine sauce picked itself.

  Mattie came back, wine bottle in hand, showed her the label and went through a complicated performance of uncorking the bottle. When she poured a sample for Magdalene to taste it was cool and crisp. She took the food order and disappeared.

  Surely she wasn’t going to cook it all herself as well? She looked around the empty restaurant. How places like this kept open she didn’t know. It wasn’t that far out of town but she’d never heard of it. Tony and her often went out for meals, or at least they used to, perhaps not so much recently.

  In fact she didn’t really know where she was. She’d driven without SatNav, following the road of least resistance. She guessed she was a good few miles away from home and that was all that mattered. He hadn’t called, she checked her mobile. There were no emails, she checked that as well. The signal was virtually non existent.

  When the food came it was served by a plump balding man in his fifties who carried the white bowl of steaming chowder with a flourish.

  ‘For madam,’ he said, and his accent was flat outer London with a hint of Essex.

  ‘Look great.’

  He swapped the white cloth he’d used to hold the dish to his other arm and dragged an ice filled bucket over to the table. Magdalene hadn’t noticed it before but the ice was obviously fresh and her wine bottle was resting inside.

  ‘I’ll pour your wine.’ He bent down beside the table and before she knew what he was doing he had picked up her handbag.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said and snatched it back.

  ‘Okay, love, keep your hair on. I was going to ask you to let me have your car keys so I can put it in the barn for you, out of the sun.’

  ‘No…I mean…’

  He smiled and she felt like a fish on a hook. ‘It’s the midday sun gets them every time. Through the windscreen, baking the steering wheel so you squeal when you hold it. Heating up the seat so it burns against those bare legs of yours.’

  Creepy, that was the word that sprung to mind. She didn’t like him at all. The thought of him in her car, his hands over it, made her skin crawl, but she had to admit he had a point about the heat.

  She fished in her bag and pulled out the keys. ‘Here you are. Second gets a bit stiff.’

  ‘Don’t we all given a clear wind. Mattie’ll be back in a moment. Enjoy your food.’

  The clam chowder was unbelievably good. Better than any she’d had in the best restaurants in London. Many didn’t do the dish, not gourmet enough for them but if was one of her favourites. She didn’t want it to end.

  She was halfway through when Mattie came over and lifted out the condensation covered bottle of Sancerre. She showed Magdalene the label again for some reason and poured some more into her glass.

  ‘You’re going through it and no mistake,’ she said, holding up the half empty bottle. ‘I’ll get another shortly.’

  ‘No, I need to drive.’

  Mattie shook her head. ‘Not a good idea after drinking. Besides Tony’s put your car away now and he’ll have taken your bag up to your room.’

  ‘My room? I haven’t…Tony’s my husband’s name.’

  ‘No arguments now. I could see you were exhausted when you came in. And now I’ve seen how hungry you are, and after the wine and all. So no argument. I’ve put you in the four poster room at the back. You’ll have a wonderful time, even if you just rest, get yourself together.’

  ‘But I need to…’ She stopped. She didn’t need to do anything or be anywhere.

  Mattie took her bowl. ‘Be right back with the main.’

  Magdalene sipped her wine. She had been sipping it slowly all the time so she had no idea how she’d drunk so much. She did feel sleepy. There was no point in pretending she could drive even if she wanted to.

  She looked out of the window. The grass was neatly clipped and ran into tidy flowerbeds filled with old fashioned flowers. At the edges of the lawn was a copse of trees.

  Someone was sitting on a child’s swing. Kicking her legs back and forth but only moving very gradually. It was a woman or a girl. She had thick dark hair that obscured her face but she was slim and although the dress she was wearing was at least twenty years out of date she looked quite young.

  ‘That’s our Maggie.’ Mattie had crept up with the food.

  Magdalene looked back out of the window but the girl had gone.

  ‘She still lives here, though we miss her every day.’

  ‘How can you miss her if…’

  ‘Need any sauces?’

  ‘Thanks, no, but…’

  ‘Shout if you need anything else. I’m only through on reception.’

  The chicken was so succulent it melted in the mouth and once again Magdalene found it hard to believe this hotel could provide food of such quality. Surely she would have heard about this place before if it served a menu like this?

  She kept glancing out of the window but there was no sign of Maggie, or of anyone.

  When Mattie came to take her empty plate away she brought a second bottle of white wine. The first was finished, upside down in the ice bucket.

  ‘I can’t drink another…’

  ‘Nonsense. Drink what you can and I’ll cork the rest for tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t really think I can stay.’

  ‘Is there anything to rush home for?’

  ‘Not as such, I just…go on then pour it now you’ve opened it.’

  ‘Come on through to the patio. It gets the full sun this time of day. I’ll make you a nice crème brulee and some coffee.’

  Before she knew it Magdalene was seated on a metal chair with her glass resting on a green metal table.

  Mattie brought out a tray with the dessert on it. ‘Make yourself comfortable, dear.’ And she ushered her across to a wooden lounger and made her comfortable on the flower patterned cushion.

  The dessert was as good as the rest of the meal and fairly soon Magdalene found her eyes getting heavy. She didn’t notice when the weary state turned into full sleeping.

  It was her wedding day and she was walking along a path in a wood in her dress. Long white and flowing it kept catching in the bracken.

  ‘I’ll hold it
for you.’ It was a young girl, aged about thirteen or so.

  ‘Thanks, I don’t want it to tear.’

  ‘My name’s Maggie.’

  ‘That’s a nice name, I’ve heard it before. Where did I hear it?’

  ‘I live in the hotel in the woods. No one ever comes there, not now. Mum and dad used to own it but dad had to go away after the accident. Mum lives with uncle Tony now.’

  ‘He’s a good cook.’

  ‘He gets very bad sunburn so he stays indoors most of the time.’

  ‘I like it outside in the sunshine. Makes me sleepy though.’

  And then she was lying on a lilo on a gently rippling swimming pool, her fingers trailing in the coolness, listening to the filter cleansing and moving the water. Her glass of wine was on the side of the pool and she finger paddled over to it.

  The sun was hot through the glass panels in the roof. It was so relaxing floating and sleeping.

  She heard the ring tone on her mobile, the tune she had selected for Tony. She tried to move across to her bag and answer it but the artificial current was too strong and instead she moved round in lazy circles. Never mind, he’d call back, or not.

  When her head knocked against the side of the pool she woke.

  ‘You’ve had a nice sleep.’

  She looked up to see Mattie beaming down at her. ‘That suit fits a treat.’

  What did she mean? She looked down at herself. She was wearing a one piece blue swimsuit.

  ‘How did I get into…’

  ‘I helped you. Don’t you remember? I suppose you’ve had a fair few drinks. Drinking in the sun always does that to me, sends me right off into a deep sleep.’

  ‘Did you put this on me?’

  ‘I helped you, of course. You were struggling a bit on your own. You’ve got a nice little figure for a young woman. Nice firm breasts.’

  ‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’

  ‘It’s one of Maggie’s. She won’t mind. It’s nice to see a daughter growing into a woman.’

  Mattie left, mumbling something about sorting out the staff rota, and Magdalene eased herself out of the water and sat on a white plastic chair, using one of the pink towels to dry her body.

  The wine had given her a headache, or was it the sun, or the combination?

  She had no idea how long she’d been asleep but she needed to get to her room and have a shower to shake away the cobwebs and decide what to do.

  There was a key in her handbag, a big old fashioned one with a wooden key ring attached, the number ten.

  Room ten was on the second floor and the stairs were wide. She was wrapped in the towel but she felt naked. Her mobile showed two missed calls but she just deleted them.

  The key fitted into the lock easily and she opened the door and walked into her room.

  ‘Here she is, sleepyhead.’ It was Tony, his shirt front stained a little from food sauces by the look of it, his balding head pink and peeling from the sun.

  ‘What are you doing in my room?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve unpacked your stuff and put it all away. Water’s hot if you wanted a shower after your swim.’

  ‘I don’t want you touching my things.’

  He turned away from her and looked out of the window. He reached one hand up to his head and worried at a piece of flaking skin there. Several moments went by when he fidgeted with it then he turned back to Magdalene, a triumphant smile on his face.

  ‘There got it.’ He pealed a long slip of skin from the top of his head and put his hand in his pocket. ‘Nothing worse than a sunburned head. Well, I expect there is worse but I wouldn’t get that burnt that’s for sure.’

  Magdalene pulled the towel tightly around herself.

  ‘We haven’t got many guests just now so we’ll be able to give you our full attention.’

  ‘How many guests are there?’

  ‘There’s you.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  Tony walked to the door and held it open. ‘We’ll make your stay with us a memorable one. Sleep tight.’

  He left the room, closed the door behind him, and she didn’t hear him turn a key in the lock.

  Magdalene closed the curtains and made sure they met in the middle. She didn’t want anyone peeking in. She took the towel and dropped it onto a chair in the bathroom. It was a modern shower and once she adjusted the controls she stepped in.

  She soaped her body and used the flannel she’d brought. She wanted to clean away all thoughts of that man with his hands on her clothes, her underwear especially.

  When she had finished she dried herself and put on her body lotion.

  The bed was comfortable. She lay down but immediately got up and opened the curtains again. It was good to see the sun through the window. She could lie on the bed, head on two soft pillows and see the trees beyond the lawned area.

  The bed was too comfortable. Within minutes she was asleep.

  It was a warm sunny day and she was sitting in the garden with her mother. Her father was digging in a flower bed, the sun baking the back of his neck a salmon pink.

  ‘More lemonade, Maggie?’ She never minded when her mother called her that.

  ‘No thanks, I’d really like some tea.’

  ‘Tea? On a hot day like this? You are a strange child. We’re out of milk I’m afraid.’

  Magdalene’s father called over to them. ‘I want to get a newspaper. I’ll pop to the shop.’

  ‘Are you sure? Maggie can have lemonade.’

  ‘No problem. If princess wants tea then tea she shall have. Come with me princess?’

  Magdalene hesitated. She loved her father but she didn’t always enjoy being with him, sometimes he made comments to her that he probably should only have made to someone older. He didn’t tend to do it when they were all together.

  ‘Come on,’ her father said. ‘I’ll get the car out and we’ll have an ice cream as well.’

  It was very hot in the car, and it smelled of the pine deodorant he had hanging from the rear view mirror. He reversed out of the drive and smiled at her. Then he put his hand on her knee and squeezed.

  ‘Don’t.’ It wasn’t a quiet word. It wasn’t spoken loudly. She screamed at him, shouted.

  His face froze. His foot slipped off the clutch and the car jerked backwards and stopped. The Land Rover coming along the street didn’t stop.

  Magdalene opened her eyes. For a moments she was disorientated, unsure what this bedroom was. Then she remembered. She hadn’t actually booked into the hotel but here she was.

  Naked she got off the bed and crossed to the wardrobe. It was solid dark wood, patterns in the doors like ancient script. The door creaked when she opened it. Inside was a wedding dress, slightly old fashioned but pristine and white.

  She pulled it out and put it on. It fitted perfectly even over her bare skin.

  It felt good lying on the bed with the wide skirt of the dress swirled out around her. She began to hum a song they had played at her reception.

  There was a knock at the door and Mattie brought in a tray of food.

  ‘Thought you might like your dinner in your room tonight, save coming down for the restaurant. Tony will bring up the rest of that bottle of wine and maybe sit with you for a while, or lie on the bed with you.’

  ‘The dress…’

  ‘He won’t mind. It suits you, I knew it would.’

  It was dark outside now. There were no lights and it looked like the window was built against a black blank wall.

  Inside the room the scent from the shower gel wafted through giving a fresh flowery fragrance to the air.

  The food was as marvellous as lunch. Steak and sauté potatoes.

  Tony brought up the wine and two glasses. He poured hers and sat with his on the window seat in the alcove.

  Neither of them spoke. After a while he began to hum quietly to himself.

  Magdalene thought it was the same song from their wedding but she wasn’t certain.

&nb
sp; ‘I thought I might stay for a few days,’ she said.

  Tony nodded. ‘It’s good to have you around.’

  ‘If the food is always this good I might move in.’

  ‘Mattie misses having people around. She’d miss you if you left.’

  ‘I only arrived today.’

  Tony poured them both the last of the wine. ‘Looks like we need another bottle. Do you want to try a Chablis?’

  She smiled and patted his hand.

  He got up and left the room.

  This time she heard the key in the lock, but she didn’t mind.

  She wasn’t going anywhere.

  STAR

  Suzanne stood motionless in the lift as it carried her upwards to the penthouse suite. Deep breaths failed to steady her nerves.

  She had been for job interviews before but couldn’t remember ever feeling this apprehensive. Cold sweat was making her hands feel clammy and butterflies were spinning and reeling a frenetic dance in her stomach. She counted off the floor numbers as the lift ascended, repeating them in her head, over and over again, like a mantra. That too failed to calm her.

  Part of her apprehension was down to the man she was about to meet, her prospective employer. On the telephone Johnny Protheroe seemed quite charming, urbane and eloquent, but Suzanne was a North London girl, and if you lived north of the Thames you would have heard of Johnny Protheroe.

  The society columns of the newspaper barely went a week without giving space to a charity ball hosted by him, or a film premiere in the West End attended, usually with an attractive young starlet or model draped on his arm. The sports pages in the same newspapers were equally attentive to the comings and goings of Johnny Protheroe, though tending to concentrate on the boxing matches he promoted and the race horses he owned. There were always photographs showing him being presented with the owner’s prize at Newmarket or Catterick, always with the added paragraph that the prize money was to be presented to a local boy’s club or orphanage of which he was the patron. He was a man about town was our Johnny.

  There were mentions too in other parts of the newspapers. Reports of his interest in property development and darker, more disturbing hints of the part he played in London’s underworld. But on the streets of Tottenham where Protheroe spent his boyhood, hints were facts, and it was taken as read that his crime empire was a rival, if not a continuation of the one spawned by the Krays back in the fifties and sixties.