***
“And where should I go whilst you’re conducting this... this cleansing?” Mr Kierney said, looking quite put out about it, despite having engaged them to carry the work out.
“You can either stay downstairs or go to a nearby pub, it’s up to you,” Theo replied, a slight edge to her voice informing Ruby she wasn’t too enamoured of him either.
“The pub? Yes, of course, I’ll go there,” Mr Kierney replied. “Call me when my house is my own again.”
All five of them stared after him as he hurried to his car, all five unimpressed by his brusque manner. Ruby almost felt like leaving Cynthia be, after all, this had been her house first.
“We can’t,” said Ness, tuning into her thoughts, an ability of hers Ruby still found alarming. “She’s been here too long already. It’s time to move on.”
Nodding her head to show that, of course, she agreed, that it hadn’t been a serious thought, Ruby led the way. Climbing the oak staircase, Corinna marvelled at how grand it was.
“I can just imagine Cynthia in all her film star gorgeousness wafting down these stairs,” she giggled.
Unfortunately, all Ruby could imagine was Cash bestowing another indulgent smile on Corinna.
At the door to Cynthia’s bedroom, Ruby turned to face him.
“Are you sure you want to come in?” she asked.
“I’m sure.” There was no hesitation in his voice at all.
Contemplating the wisdom of it for a few moments, Ruby conceded.
“Okay, but if you feel even slightly uncomfortable, let me know and we’ll get you out.”
Cash nodded his understanding.
Before entering, they initiated the protection ritual. Each of them, including Cash, were to visualise themselves surrounded entirely by white light. Ruby had also given Cash her obsidian necklace to wear for extra protection. The black stone, she thought, looked rather good against the smoothness of his throat.
“Ready?” she asked after a few minutes.
“Ready,” the group chorused.
“Cash, you’re absolutely sure?” Ruby double checked.
Before he could reply, however, Corinna piped up.
“Don’t worry, Ruby, I’ll keep an eye on him.” And she took hold of his arm.
I bet you will, thought Ruby peevishly.
She noticed Ness raising an eyebrow at her. She was quite right; it wouldn’t do to bring negative feelings into the room, it was important to remain in a positive and loving frame of mind when dealing with a spirit, particularly one who was distressed. It helped to redress the balance.
When she was sure the green-eyed monster had retreated far enough inside her, she closed her hand around the handle of the door and pushed.
***
Motioning for everyone to stand in a circle, Ruby said, “Let’s tune in first and see if we can make a connection.”
Theo, Ness and Corinna nodded. Cash, however, couldn’t resist looking around him, his eyes wide with awe. Ruby didn’t blame him. It wasn’t everyday you found yourself in the inner sanctum of a world-famous movie star.
Once they were all in a circle, she took a deep breath.
“Cynthia, it’s me again, Ruby. I came to visit you recently, as did Theo, standing to my right. Do you remember us? Today I’ve brought along my other colleagues as well.”
Gesturing to each of them in turn, she continued, “This is Ness, Corinna and Cash. As I said to you before, we are here only with the intention of helping you.”
There was no response.
“Cynthia,” continued Ruby, injecting firmness into her voice. “I know you’re here, in this room, and I know you’re frightened. You don’t understand what has happened to you. But we can help you understand. You have passed Cynthia – your spirit left your physical body the night of your party, Christmas Eve, 1958. You left the party sometime after ten o’clock and went upstairs to your bedroom. Could it be possible you were experiencing the start of chest pains and wanted to be alone? Whilst in your bedroom you suffered a fatal heart attack. It was sudden and it was unexpected, leaving you confused, disorientated and, of course, very frightened. I understand how attached you are to this house, that you feel safe here, but it’s time to leave, to return to the light, which is your true home.”
Still nothing.
Ruby nodded to Ness, who took it as a signal to start lighting smudge sticks. Handing one to Corinna and one to Cash, she motioned for them to go to the corners of the room and start waving the smoke around. Normally a cleansing was performed after the spirit had successfully passed, but because of Cynthia’s reluctance to show herself, they would start now. Ness lit her own smudge stick and started to walk clockwise around the room. Later she would open doors and closets to cleanse every inch of those spaces too. The floor-to-ceiling windows, Mr Kierney had told her previously, were sealed shut so they couldn’t open them, which was a shame. Not only did an open window or door offer the spirit a physical exit, the air in Cynthia’s room could do with freshening up, it was stale.
Theo tried next to establish a connection with Cynthia.
“Cynthia, it’s Theo. I’ve seen all your films. Do you remember me saying so? I admired you greatly; you were an amazing actress – and the most beautiful of your generation.”
A flicker in the darkness. Clever Theo, appealing to the spirit’s vanity – evidently still intact, even on the other side.
“The Phoenix was my favourite, you were remarkable in it. I think it was everybody’s favourite to be honest. But Intruders, Translation and The Fledgling were superb too, and, of course, The Elitists, with John Sterling, what a handsome couple you made.”
It was the mention of John that emboldened Cynthia. She came rushing forward.
John! Where is he?
“Cynthia,” said Ruby, seizing the moment, “John isn’t with us. He passed in 1969, peacefully I’m told. The night that you passed, John was the one who found you. He was with you as you passed. He’s in the light now, waiting to be reunited with you.”
As Ruby was speaking, Ness beckoned for Corinna and Cash to come and join the circle once more.
“Join hands,” she whispered, expecting action stations now that the ‘news’ had been imparted.
At first though there was nothing. All was still again. Ruby wondered if they had ‘lost’ Cynthia, if she had retreated back into the shadows. And then there came a scream, a scream that ripped through her body as a tornado might rip through a mid-American town, through Theo too, and Ness, both of their bodies shuddering with the impact. It was so intense; Ruby was sure Corinna and Cash must have felt it on some level too.
The energy that was Cynthia started to gain momentum. Overhead, the chandelier swayed as though caught in a strong gust of air. At the window, the heavy curtains fluttered as though they were not made of velvet but of some much lighter material.
“Cash, I think you’d better leave...” started Theo.
“It’s okay,” he insisted. “I’m fine.”
As if to reinforce this fact, his hand tightened around Ruby’s.
Theo looked uncomfortable. She glanced at Ruby, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.
“It’s your call,” said Theo finally. “But stand firm and remember there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Cynthia,” Theo spoke again, “I implore you, please remain calm,” but Ruby knew her words would fall on deaf ears. The truth, instead of setting Cynthia free, had only served to enrage her.
The bed started shaking next, almost imperceptibly at first but the movements quickly became violent, the sheer weight of it clearly no obstacle. The dressing table started to shake too, its various contents and mirror rattling.
“Imagine white light!” Theo had to shout to make herself heard above the din. “All of you, as strongly as you can, and I don’t want any chinks in it either. Imagine a solid blanket of white light surrounding you, impenetrable as steel.”
As everyone did her bidding
, Theo re-addressed Cynthia as loudly as she could.
“Cynthia, I want you to focus on my voice. I know you can hear me. There’s a light shining in the distance, look at it, go to it, there are people who know you and love you in the light, who are waiting for you. Go towards the light, Cynthia. Go home.”
This is my home!
The doors to her walk-in wardrobe suddenly burst open. At the same time, Ruby felt Cash jump beside her. Darkness from within began to seep out like ink spilled on blotting paper, edging its way forwards.
“Stand firm!” shouted Ruby, echoing what Theo had said earlier.
She knew well enough what Cynthia was doing. She was trying to manifest, hoping perhaps to frighten the living into leaving and never coming back. It was rare for a spirit to manifest. An actual sighting was usually nothing more than a hollow image replaying on the airwaves, like a DVD stuck on repeat play. Because Cynthia was grounded, however, because her soul was still very much present, her manifestation would be considerably more substantial, perhaps even visible to the non-psychics amongst them, to Cash and Corinna.
Quickly, Ruby envisioned the last scene from The Phoenix, the one in which Gayle declared that she would rise again from the ashes, reclaim her life once more, her Titian-curls wreathing wildly around her tear-stained but determined face. Taking this vision she bathed it in pure white light, the light of love, yet still the crashing and banging around her continued, the dark mass drew closer. She stole a glance at Cash. She should never have brought him along. It was irresponsible of her. This experience must be terrifying for him, he’d be scarred forever. But to her surprise, he looked far from terrified. His face was smooth; his brow distinctly unfurrowed. He was witnessing one of the most dramatic cleansings the team had ever encountered as a collective, and yet he remained cool and calm throughout, doing exactly as he was told to do: project white light.
With a final ear-splitting scream, the energy around them imploded. Cynthia hadn’t been able to manifest after all. She would be quiet for some time now, depleted.
“Corinna,” whispered Ruby urgently, “scatter eucalyptus drops. I’ll place crystals all around. Rose quartz I think, to help promote love and peace. Ness, the bells.”
“Bells?” whispered Cash, his eyes open once more.
“Yes, bells,” Ruby whispered back. “Sound is a frequency; we use it to break up lower frequencies, to dispel any negativity that may still be lingering.”
“Oh, right,’ Cash nodded. “And she’s gone has she, Cynthia?”
“No, she hasn’t gone. She’s still here and she’s still angry.”
“So, what do we do?” asked Cash, his use of the word ‘we’ not lost on Ruby.
“Remember I said to Mr Kierney if this doesn’t work we go deeper. Well, we do just that, we go deeper.”
“Deeper? How do you mean?”
“I’ll explain when we’re out of here.”
***
Cynthia huddled in the shadows, exhausted, drifting in and out of consciousness. Dead? She wasn’t dead! But if not, what was she? This existence she endured, it could not be called living. A heart attack, the young woman had said, the one who called herself Ruby, the girl who looked no better than a street urchin. She’d had a heart attack the night of her party? Insane! She had just turned thirty-one; there was nothing wrong with her heart. She was perfect, both inside and out. And John had found her, held her as she took her dying breath? If that were true, she would have remembered. Instead, all she knew was the thrill of the evening, the love and admiration in everyone’s eyes. But wait – there was something else. She had removed herself from the crowd, but only for a few moments surely? A flame of memory lit up the darkness, but just as quickly it fizzled out. Everything was black again. If it were true, if she had left the party, for what purpose had she done so? Not for sex; that would come later. A select few invited into her sanctuary until the break of day.
Was John responsible for her death? He had a temper; she knew that, he blamed his Irish origins for it. Before sailing to America, his mother had lived in Carrickfergus, a small village on the north shore of Belfast Lough. Often he compared Cynthia to her.
“You’ve got hair as red as hers,” he would say.
“Got a thing for red heads have you?”
“Don’t.” He hated it when she was crude. He saw her as something pure, how wrong he had been.
When had they last rowed? Cynthia tried to remember. Not long before the party. He had flown over to visit her in between shooting his latest movie. Yes, that was it. Just two or three weeks before, she was sure of it. He was angry again because she had refused yet another proposal.
“But why, Cynthia? Why won’t you marry me? Give me one good reason.”
They had been in bed at the time; he had just ravaged her, bringing her to climax time and time again as only John could. Effortlessly.
Sitting up, the silk sheets slipping down to reveal his strong, muscular body and those gorgeous shoulders, smooth and golden in colour, he had let his head fall into his hands.
“You love me, I know you do.”
How did he know? She had never told him so.
“Cynthia,” he had turned to her then, his voice beseeching. “Why won’t you marry me?”
Again, she hadn’t answered. Instead, she had slipped from the bed, intending to make her way to the bathroom, to shower. She had only taken a few steps when he was by her side again, naked also, grabbing at her wrists. Encircling them with his hands.
“God, Cynthia, you’re infuriating.”
She knew she was. She also knew he found her attitude towards him arousing. That was something John Sterling had liked – the chase. Too easily women fell at his feet.
He was beginning to stir again; she could feel him pressing against her thigh.
Lowering her eyes, deliberately demure, she had smiled at him, fully expecting to be thrown back onto the bed, to be ravaged all over again. To hell with her shower.
He had looked into her eyes – she remembered it clearly – holding her with his gaze as firmly as he held her wrists. Her breath had caught in her throat. Any minute now, his lips would be on hers, his tongue exploring deep inside her, first her mouth and then more sensitive, secret places. She braced herself, waiting. But he had surprised her. He had thrown her from him as though she were poison itself.
“John... !” she had started. No, she would not beg. She would never beg again.
John had grabbed at his clothes, torn off him hours ago and thrown to the floor.
“I can’t do this anymore!” he had muttered under his breath.
Fury had ignited in her; she remembered that too, another black mood rapidly descending.
“Can’t do what anymore?” She grabbed at his wrist now.
How easily he had flung her off.
“I can’t share you, Cynthia. I won’t share you.”
“In that you have no choice.”
“I do.” His voice had been low, a growl. “I can walk out of this room right now and never return. I can leave you, Cynthia, to become a parody of yourself, which is what you’ll be if you don’t stop doing what you’re doing, believing in the hype that surrounds you. Commit to me, Cynthia, without me...”
She hadn’t let him finish.
“Without you I’m nothing? Is that what you’re trying to say? Don’t make me laugh! I belong to no man, do you hear me, John, no man. Least of all you. Without me, you are nothing. I am the world’s darling, I am the one they adore, you are pale in comparison.”
“The world’s darling today, tomorrow second best. I’ve seen it happen, Cynthia, I’ve seen how it destroys people. Don’t let fame be the only thing you have in your life.”
“Fame is enough!” she had screamed at him.
Again he held her gaze. She had read the contempt in his eyes; contempt and despair. Without another word, he pulled on his clothes and left the bedroom. Not even a backwards glance.
She had fallen onto the b
ed – alone. Reeling from what he had said to her. At how quickly the mood had turned sour. How dare John try to cage her, to own her? She belonged to no one, no one. A shiver ran through her as she realised this wasn’t strictly true. She did belong to someone. Lytton had made sure of it. Lytton! Why had she allowed herself to fall under his spell? So many times she had asked herself that question. She had been young and naive, she had been desperate – so different to the person she was today. And the man she belonged to, if you could call him a man, he was here, she was certain of it. Not John, the antithesis of John. He watched her every move, blocking her path to the light that she could see shining in the distance, a light that looked so inviting but she knew was also a trick. As soon as she tried to reach it, he would step forward; drag her down with him to an existence even worse than this. The girl, the old woman, they did not know what they were talking about; who they were dealing with. She couldn’t go to the light. She belonged to the Devil and perhaps always had done – since she had first felt that desire for stardom burn in her belly. All Lytton had done was to facilitate that bond.
No, she would stay here: in her house, in her room, in the shadows, where it was safe. And if they came back, those wretched people, that man that squatted below, they would regret it. But for now she would rest. Gather her strength. She would need it.
Chapter Eight
“What do you mean, she’s still here? I was given to understand you people were professionals, that you’d rid me of her.”
“Mr Kierney...” Ruby started to appease, but Theo interrupted.
“Mr Kierney, we have completed stage one of our investigations and in very many cases, stage one is sufficient. Sometimes, however, spirits dig their heels in, refuse to depart. There can be a number of reasons for this, which aren’t always obvious and so we need to delve further. But believe me when I say our concern is not just for Cynthia’s wellbeing but for yours too. We plan to go away, conduct more research and find out the reason behind her resistance. Armed with this knowledge, we will return to perform another cleansing, endeavouring to achieve a conclusion that is satisfactory for all.”
The Haunting of Highdown Hall Page 8
