by Amy Cross
There are tears in my eyes, but I do not dare turn and look up at my husband. I do not have that right.
“It is clear,” he says after a moment, “that I am going to have to take some rather drastic action here. I had hoped that you might be trusted, Catherine, but evidently this faith in your honor was misplaced.”
“No, wait...”
“I shall have to confine you.”
“Confine me?”
“It is the only decent way to resolve this problem. The only way that will leave our family's good name somewhat undamaged.” He takes a step back, and he seems utterly exhausted. How is it that I have done such harm to the man I love? “I shall provide food for you,” he continues, “and water, and whatever else I can. I no longer mean to punish you, Catherine, but Millicent's well-being is the only thing that matters here. I pray that you will understand.”
With that, he turns and walks away, and he pulls the door shut once he is gone.
Left all alone, I try to make sense of this madness. I tell myself a thousand times that I am insane, that I am imagining things, yet deep down I fear terribly that Milly is still in danger.
“You are weak of mind,” I say finally, out loud, hoping to bring myself to my senses. “You betray the frailties of your sex. Jonathan is a good man, you are lucky to have him. He will protect Milly from you.”
Those last words are so difficult to speak, yet I know that I must take them to heart.
A moment later I hear footsteps beyond the door, and I realize that Jonathan is coming back. I open my mouth to call out to him, but at the last moment I remind myself that I have to be quiet. I have caused so much trouble already, and simply cannot trust myself now. Jonathan is right to keep me away from my dear, darling little girl. He has her best interests at heart.
Suddenly I flinch as I hear a loud banging sound, and I take a step back as the sound comes again and again.
For a moment, I have no idea what Jonathan can possibly be doing on the other side of the door, but finally I begin to understand what must be happening. Sure enough, a few seconds later I hear the sound of wood being slammed against wood, and then the banging continues. I step forward, and I see that small, sharp metal tips are beginning to be driven straight through the door, which can only mean one thing.
Jonathan is nailing the door shut, to prevent me from going through to the other side of the house.
“Must it be like this?” I gasp, stepping forward again as tears fill my eyes, and as Jonathan continues his work. “Please, there has to be some other way.”
He continues to hammer the nails into place, until finally I am left staring at a dozen of them that poke through from the door's other side. As I reach out and touch one of the sharp little tips, I hear Jonathan walking away from the door.
I run a finger against one of the nails, and after a moment I begin to press harder, until the metal scratches into my skin. Pulling my finger away, I see a bead of blood.
How long am I to spend locked away here in this side of the house? Suddenly filled with panic, I realize that I am in the side where the servants used to live, back when we could afford servants. There is precious little here, there is no library, there is no reading room, there is nowhere for me to paint or to practice embroidery. There is nothing here other than all the empty rooms. Am I to simply wander aimlessly for day after day?
Suddenly I hear a bumping sound coming from one of the other rooms, followed by the sound of more hammering, and I realize that Jonathan is nailing another door shut. He really, truly means to seal me in here so that I cannot get to Milly again. It is as if he plans to entomb me in this side of the house. The thought fills me with the utmost sense of horror, yet I know full well that I cannot challenge my husband.
He is doing what is best for us all. Of that, there can be no doubt.
VI
“Milly?”
Gasping, I open my eyes and find myself in darkness. I immediately sit up, and it takes a few seconds before I remember that I made myself a crude bed here in one of the west wing's rooms.
Feeling rather flustered, I look around, and after a moment I realize that I was woken by a sound somewhere far off in the house. I do not remember the sound itself, but I feel absolutely certain that something is wrong with Milly.
After climbing from the bed, I stop for a moment and listen to the silence.
Perhaps I was dreaming. Perhaps, after several restless hours, I finally fell asleep only to be roused from a nightmare. That is certainly possible, although my heart is racing with such force that I wonder whether a mere dream could ever cause such trouble. I wait, listening again to the silence, and I try to tell myself that I am merely imagining things.
And then, from far off in the house, there comes the sound of Milly sobbing.
I am immediately filled with the need go to her. I rush out of the room and turn left, before stopping and going the other way as I realize that there is a quicker way to the east wing. I hurry along the corridor, then along the next, and finally I reach the door that leads through to the landing. I grab the handle and pull, and then to my horror I find that the door will not open.
Even up here, the sharp ends of nails are poking through the wood. Jonathan has sealed me in completely, with not one avenue of escape.
“You must calm yourself,” I hear him saying in the distance, no doubt in Milly's room. “I will not go and fetch your mother, Millicent. It is your mother who has worked you up into this dreadful state, and I am afraid you must learn the hard way that such behavior is not to be tolerated.”
“It was in my room!” she cries out. “Please, don't make me stay in here!”
I place my hands against the door and bite my lip. I want so desperately to call out to my darling girl, but I know that I must not. For her sake, I must remain quiet.
“Stop crying,” Jonathan says sternly. “I am your father and you will obey me. Cease this dreadful behavior at once.”
“But -”
Suddenly there is a loud, harsh slapping sound, and I hear Milly cry out in pain.
“No!” I gasp, horrified at the thought of Jonathan striking our daughter. “Please, don't hurt her. She's only a child!”
A moment later, I hear a door slamming shut, followed by the sound of a key turning in a lock. Evidently Jonathan has sealed Milly in her room, albeit not quite as drastically as I have been sealed here in this side of the house. I close my eyes as I imagine my poor girl all alone on her bed, and then I feel a tightening sense of dread in my chest as I realize that perhaps she will not be alone.
Perhaps that thing, whatever it is, will visit her again.
No!
No, I must not imagine such things. That is how I ended up in this mess in the first place, and I must focus now on making sure that I recover. Why, I am sure that within a few days I shall be able to pull myself together, and then we can all get back to normal.
For now, I must try to turn my mind to other matters.
With the greatest difficulty, I turn away from the door and start making my way back along the corridor. I cannot possibly go back to bed, for I shall surely think bad thoughts, so I resolve to tour this old, neglected wing of the house and see whether there is potential for some renovation work. We are clearly not going to have servants here again, so I would like to think that the house can be opened up and helped to 'breathe' again. Indeed, I think that for far too long Lannister Hall has been allowed to deteriorate. It is time that somebody refreshed the entire place. One I was considering death, but now I see a proper future for our family.
Once Milly and I are both better, I intend to return this house to its former glory.
Part Four
Katie Sinclair
I
“Well?” Josh asks, his voice coming over loud and clear through my earpiece. “Anything?”
I watch the scanner for a moment, before glancing along the dark corridor.
“Not yet,” I reply.
“Me ne
ither,” he says with a sigh. “It's two minutes past midnight. Shouldn't she be, like, floating around by now?”
I hesitate, keeping my eyes fixed on the far end of the corridor in case there's any sign of movement. Deep down, however, I know that Catherine Lannister isn't about to appear. After all, the maon detector hasn't picked up any unusual signals yet, which means that the ghost isn't within thirty feet of me in any direction. Not in any detectable sense, at least. I turn, holding the scanner up, but the line remains flat.
“If I didn't know better,” Josh continues after a moment, “I'd think she's hiding from us.”
“She can't hide from us,” I point out. “She doesn't have any awareness of us.”
“That's what they say.”
“Doctor Reynolds proved it,” I continue, still watching the scanner. “This isn't like some lame horror movie. Ghosts don't chase living people. They don't even know that we're here, and they definitely don't -”
Suddenly the line flickers slightly, briefly registering a rise in maon levels before settling back down to its normal point. Technically that's not enough to merit a mention, although it's the first moment this evening that anything has come close to happening.
“Ghosts don't what?” Josh asks. “Katie? Did you see something?”
“I think it was just a blip,” I mutter, although I can't deny that my heart is pounding. Swallowing hard, I find that my mouth is horribly dry. “Nothing to report.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure.”
“Sure in the sense that you're really sure, or sure in the sense that you want me to shut up?”
“I'm really sure.”
Josh doesn't reply.
After taking a couple of steps forward along the corridor, I stop when I reach an open doorway. I memorized the layout of this house before we arrived, so I know even before I peer into the next room that I've reached one of the bedrooms that was used for servants. At least, that was its purpose in the old days, when the Lannister family could still afford servants. By Catherine's time, the house was almost empty and there was speculation that it might end up getting sold to pay debts. According to my research, Jonathan Lannister was in deep trouble by the time of his disappearance.
I look into the room. Sure enough there's a basic, bare-framed bed in the room, along with some furniture that looks pretty threadbare. The only light in the room comes from a patch of moonlight that's shining through the window, but that means the room is brighter than the corridor so I take a step inside.
A moment later, I hear a creaking sound behind me.
I turn, but there's no sign of anyone.
Of course there's no sign of anyone. The maon detector's still showing nothing, so the creak was just caused by a loose floorboard. So long as the detector shows no sustained change to the levels, I know for certain that the ghost of Catherine Lannister isn't about to pop into view. I suppose that should be comforting in a way, although I still feel a little creeped out as I step over to the bed and look down at the clean, unruffled sheets. If I remember correctly from my research, this particular room was -
Suddenly there's another bumping sound, followed by two more. I turn and look at the doorway, and there's one more bump before the house falls silent again. I swear that sounded like a set of footsteps, but when I look at the scanner I see that the level has remained flat for the past few seconds. I tell myself that the detector wouldn't – can't – lie. So long as the line remains flat, I know there's no ghost nearby.
“You know what I'd like right now?” Josh says suddenly over the earpiece. “A burger. One of those really juicy burgers with loads of mayo. Do you think there's anywhere nearby that'd deliver?”
Ignoring him, I watch the scanner for a moment before looking over at the doorway again.
Those bumps were nothing.
I know that.
Still, it takes a few more seconds before I can even begin to calm down. No matter how hard I try to remind myself that the scanner shows no sign of a presence, it's difficult to ignore the fear that's creeping up through my chest.
She's not here, I force myself to remember. And even if she does appear, she can't hurt you.
Sure, the theory's great, but putting it into practice is turning out to be a little tricky. I'm a scientist, so I should be immune from all these fears. But if that's the case, why is my pulse racing, and why do I feel as if the hairs are standing up on the back of my neck?
“Did you hear what I said?” Josh asks, still sounding bored, as I head over to the window and peer out at the dark forest. “I said I wonder whether there's a takeout place that -”
“I heard you,” I reply. “Are you still not picking anything up?”
“I think I'd have mentioned it if I'd spotted anything,” he points out. “Where's the boss, anyway? He hasn't said anything for a while.”
“There's nothing to say,” Doctor Carter's voice intones suddenly, “therefore I've kept my mouth shut. Perhaps you two could try doing the same.”
“Sorry,” Josh mumbles, and then the line goes dead.
Looking out through the window, toward the forest, I can't help shivering slightly. There's no heating in the house, and I'm starting to find that maybe this jumper isn't enough to keep me warm. I start making a mental note to go to my bag and find something else, but a moment later I hear a brief, faint scratching sound coming from the corridor. I look down at the scanner to check that the line hasn't changed, and then I look back out the window.
And then I freeze.
Slowly, I start to realize what I saw when I looked at the scanner. I glance down again and see that the line has begun to rise in a sustained manner, indicating that the background maon level is increasing. I hesitate for a moment, not quite believing what I'm seeing, and then I look at the doorway again just as I hear another scratching sound.
“Uh, guys,” I say cautiously, not wanting to sound too alarmed, “it's probably nothing, but my levels are going up.”
“How high?” Doctor Carter asks.
“Four per cent and rising,” I tell him. “Almost five.”
“Where are you?”
“Bedroom 4a,” I reply, before realizing my mistake. “No, I mean 3a. Sorry.”
“Stay where you are,” he says, “I'm on my way.”
“Me too,” Josh adds. “What do you see, Katie?”
I look over at the doorway again.
“Nothing yet,” I reply, although when I look at the monitor again I find that the level has gone up even further. “I'm showing eight per cent now. That can't be a false alarm, can it? She's coming this way.”
“Hold on,” Josh says. “We're coming.”
Staring at the monitor, I watch as the level reaches ten per cent, then eleven, then twelve... and then shoots right up to eighteen per cent.
I turn and step back, so that nothing can come up behind me.
I look over at the empty doorway again, and I swear I can feel something coming closer and closer. I know that 'feeling' is just an overreaction, but at the same time I can't help noticing that the hairs are standing up on the back of my neck. I glance briefly down at the scanner again, for just long enough to see that the level is up to twenty-eight per cent now, and then I look back toward the door.
“Come on,” I whisper, “come on, come -”
Suddenly a woman walks past the open doorway.
I instinctively take a step back, bumping against the wall in the process. My mind is racing, but I know it was her. I might have only seen the side of her face, but in that brief moment I absolutely positively definitely recognized her from the photo. It was Catherine Lannister, she was actually here, and the shock keeps me frozen in place for a moment before suddenly my other instincts kick in.
Hurrying across the room, I stumble out into the corridor and look toward the far end, but there's no sign of the ghost.
“I saw her!” I blurt out, as I make my way quickly toward the turning.
“Are
you sure?” Doctor Carter asks.
“I'm sure,” I reply, “I -”
Stopping suddenly as I look along the next corridor, I see Catherine Lannister again, this time from the rear. She's walking calmly and serenely toward the west wing of the house, and now I can hear the faint shuffling sound of her footsteps. For a moment I can only watch her with a growing sense of awe, until I realize that she's about to disappear around the next corner.
“I'm going after her!” I stammer as I start hurrying to catch up, just as she slips out of sight. “She's on the fourth floor corridor heading toward the west wing! I'm going to keep close to her!”
We've found her. We've found the ghost of Catherine Lannister.
II
“Where are you now?” Doctor Carter asks over the earpiece. “Katie, say something!”
“We're in the west wing of the house,” I explain, keeping my eyes fixed on Catherine Lannister as she walks ahead of me. “I'm about ten feet back, following her toward the servants' kitchen area.”
“I'm there now and I can't see you,” he replies. “Are you sure you're on the third floor?”
“Fourth floor,” I continue. “We're on the fourth floor.”
I hear him sigh. “Why did you say the third, then?”
“I didn't,” I reply, “I -”
Suddenly I hear footsteps over my shoulder, and I turn to see that Josh has finally caught up to me. I can see from the look in his eyes that he's already spotted Catherine Lannister, and when he comes to a halt next to me I realize that for once he actually seems lost for words.
“No way,” he whispers, as if he never truly expected to see this, “is... I mean, is that... I mean...”
His voice trails off.
“Come on,” I reply, nudging his arm as I start walking after her again. “She just seems to be wandering around the house.”
