The Haunting of Caldgrave House

by Amy Cross

  “Okay,” Maisie says behind me, although she sounds very uncertain.

  “Good night. Sleep tight.”

  With that, Linda turns the bedroom light off, plunging the room into darkness, and then she gently bumps the door shut.

  “I suppose it's just you and me,” Maisie says cautiously, as she settles back against the pillow. “It's cold in here, Hugo. Dad said he was going to turn the heating up, but it's suddenly got really cold. Do you want to come under the covers?”

  She lifts the edge of the duvet, inviting me to go under there, but I know I can't. Not tonight. Even though it's cold here on top of the covers, I make my way to the foot of the bed and curl up, while keeping my eyes open so that I can watch the door. I'm sure that Linda and Michael would have done something if the woman with the broken face wasn't supposed to be here, but I still don't like the fact that there are other people here in the house, or that these people don't seem to have any scents of their own.

  As Maisie says good night to me and settles down to sleep, I decide to keep my eyes open for a while, just to make sure that everything's okay. Whoever that woman was in the black dress with the broken face – and whoever the pale girl was outside – I don't understand why they're living here with us, or why nobody else seems to have noticed them.

  Chapter Eight

  I sit up on the bed as soon as I hear the noise.

  It's late, the middle of the night, and the only light is a faint bluish glow at the window as the curtains flutter gently. All I can hear right now is Maisie breathing slowly and steadily as she sleeps, but a moment ago...

  A moment ago, I heard someone outside the room, out on the landing.

  I sit completely still and silent. My ears are cocked now, and I'm barely aware of my other senses. I'm completely focused on listening to the house, waiting in case I hear the creak of another footstep beyond the closed door. After a moment, hearing nothing, I lick my nose and sniff the air. There's nothing untoward, I can only smell Maisie and – to a lesser extent – Linda and Michael in the other bedroom. Plus the rotten wood of the house, of course, but that's something I've begun to ignore.

  I don't smell anyone else.

  Then again, maybe that's the problem.

  Keeping my eyes fixed on the door, I sniff again. I couldn't smell that girl outside earlier, or the woman who walked past the room while Maisie was with Linda. I'm used to being able to detect people whenever they come near, and I don't like the idea that these two people – these freaks of nature – are somehow able to move around without creating any kind of smell at all.

  Everything should have a smell.

  I tilt my head.

  Did I just hear something?

  There was a crackle, just a very faint sound that could almost have been nothing. It's rare that I'm confused like this, but then again I'm used to the sound of the city whereas out here the world is so quiet. My ears twitch slightly as I continue to listen to the silent house, and then a moment later I realize I can hear the faintest rustling sound coming from somewhere out on the other side of the door. It's as if some kind of fabric is rubbing together, and after a couple more seconds I hear an even fainter whispering sound, or maybe just the sound of someone breathing.

  I didn't hear Linda or Michael get out of bed.

  They're always much noisier whenever they get up to use the toilet in the night.

  I start baring my teeth just a little in the darkness, even though I know nobody can see me. I glance over toward the top of the bed, and I can just about make out Maisie's face as she sleeps calmly on her side. She clearly hasn't noticed anything amiss, and I don't want to wake her up, but I have to keep her safe and I'm worried that I seem to be the only one who's noticed something wrong. I'm even -

  Suddenly I hear a brief, dry click outside the door.

  I turn and look across the darkened room, and my heart is pounding, but there's still no sign of anyone. Still, that clicking sound reminded me of the old man who used to live near us in London. He'd sit in the park some days and clench his hands together, and every so often I'd hear a very faint sound as his old bones clicked together.

  That's like the sound I just heard.

  Old bones clicking and cracking as they move.

  Unable to help myself, I let out a low, rumbling growl. Not enough to wake Maisie, but enough – I hope – to make sure that I give a warning to whatever's on the other side of that door. If it knows that I'm protecting Maisie, maybe it'll realize that it needs to get out of here and never come back. Even as the hairs rise on the back of my neck, however, I'm starting to worry more and more about the lack of a scent. After all, if I can't smell these strange figures, how can I ever be truly certain that they're gone?

  Getting to my feet, I turn around once, just in case that helps.

  I sit down again, and at least I'm certain that there's nothing here in the room and nothing on the bed. Maisie's fast asleep, which is good, but I can't afford to sleep. I keep my gaze fixed firmly on the door, watching and listening for any sign that there's still someone out there in the corridor. I'm still sniffing the air, too, in case I pick up the slightest hint of anything that's out of place. As the minutes pass, however, the silence of the house seems to stretch out and I realize that there can't be anyone on the other side of the door. Even if I can't smell them, I'd be able to hear them.

  And then, as if on cue, there's a faint metallic clicking sound.

  I get to my feet, tense and ready to strike. The sound continues, and after a moment I spot something moving. I feel a rush of panic as I realize that the door's handle is turning very slowly, as if someone is trying to sneak unnoticed into the room.

  I bark.

  Not just once, but over and over, barking and barking as the handle continues to turn.

  Suddenly the bedside lamp switches on and I hear Maisie sitting up.

  “What's wrong?” she gasps, putting an arm around me as I continue to bark at the handle, which has now stopped moving. “Hugo, what is it?”

  I bark again, and now I can hear footsteps hurrying toward the other side of the door. A moment later the door swings open and Michael rushes in, wearing his bed clothes. Linda is right behind him, but she quickly pushes past and hurries over to the bed, where she reaches down and grabs Maisie.

  “What the hell's going on in here?” Michael asks, stepping toward me as I bark again. “Maisie, what's wrong with the dog?”

  “I don't know!” she sobs, as Linda swings her up into her arms. “I was asleep and he just started barking.”

  “Hugo, quiet!” Michael shouts.

  I bark again as I look over at the empty doorway.

  “Hugo! No!”

  I open my mouth to bark yet again, but suddenly Michael taps my nose hard. I flinch and turn away, and then he puts a hand around my jaws, holding my mouth shut. I try to pull away, but he squeezes tighter and I know there's no way I can force him to let me go. Sometimes, especially in the evenings and late at night, Michael can get quite tough with me.

  “Be quiet!” he hisses, leaning down until he's really pushing his face in mine. “Do you understand, you mangy animal? What the hell's wrong with you, waking everyone up in the middle of the night?”

  “Maybe he heard something,” Maisie whimpers.

  “Bull,” Michael snaps, leaning even closer until his forehead is pressed against mine. “I was awake in bed,” he continues, “and I promise you, there were no noises. This stupid dog is just barking for no reason because he's bored.”

  He pauses, keeping his eyes fixed on me as I try to pull away. I know Michael is in charge of the pack, and I never try to challenge him, and I just want him to let go. He hesitates, though, until finally he releases my jaws and stands up straight while still staring at me.

  I wait, terrified that he might hit my nose even harder, but then he sighs and heads over to the door before stopping and looking back over at Maisie and Linda.

  “Maisie,” he says after a moment, h
is voice simmering with anger, “you need to exercise your dog properly during the day. Do you understand? He has a lot of energy and he needs to work it out, otherwise he'll be wide awake during the night and he'll end up barking like this.” He sighs again. “I need to get back to bed,” he adds, “but you...”

  He points at me.

  “You be good, okay?” he continues. “Settle down, dog. Just stick to sleeping and behaving, and we won't have any more problems. Are we on the save wavelength?”

  He winks, and then he turns and heads back to the other bedroom.

  “Why did Hugo bark?” Maisie asks as Linda settles her back into the bed. “Mummy, I didn't hear anything. Why do you think Hugo barked?”

  “I don't know, honey,” Linda replies, tucking her in, “but don't worry about it. The doors are locked, the windows are secure, and no-one can get in and hurt any of us. Do you understand that?” She leans down and kisses Maisie's forehead. “Hugo's just being a good guard dog, that's all. He's reminding us that he's here to keep us safe. He just gets a little over-enthusiastic sometimes.” She gives her another kiss, before getting to her feet. “Now remember to get some sleep, because in the morning I'm taking you for a drive to the shop.”

  “Can Hugo come?”

  She stops in the doorway and glances back at us.

  “I think Hugo might have to stay behind,” she says. “I wouldn't want to leave him in the car while we're inside. I don't think he'd like that very much.”

  “But -”

  “Now go to sleep!” she adds, as she pulls the door shut. “Don't let me hear another peep out of either of you until morning.”

  Grumbling to herself under her breath, Maisie settles back down on the bed. She's clearly unhappy, but I simply settle next to her feet and stare at the dark door. I know I saw the handle turn earlier, and I also know – even though I'm not supposed to bark – that I can't afford to close my eyes. If that handle so much as shudders during the rest of the night, I'll have to bark, even if Michael gets really mad at me.

  Something isn't right in this house. Soon the others have to realize that.

  Chapter Nine

  “Okay Hugo, stay!”

  Maisie holds a finger up, and then she starts stepping backward across the sun-drenched yard.

  I immediately get up and start following her.

  “No!”

  I stop.

  “Hugo,” she continues with a smile, holding the finger closer to me. “Sit!”

  I sit.

  “And stay!”

  She waits, and then she once again starts stepping back across the yard. She's keeping her eyes fixed on me and walking slowly and carefully.

  I get up and start following.

  “No, Hugo!”

  I stop.

  “Sit!”

  I sit.

  “And...”

  She sighs.

  “Okay, Hugo,” she continues, with her finger still raised, “Mum really wants me to teach you this, so you have to stay. I won't go far, but you have to stay. Do you understand?”

  I wait.

  She has some liver treats in her pocket. She wants me to do something and then I'll get the treats, but I can't quite figure out what I'm supposed to do.

  “Stay,” she says firmly.

  I think that's the word I'm supposed to understand.

  “Stay,” she says again, and once more she starts backing away across the yard.

  I want to go after her, but this time I stay sitting. I don't know what else to do, so maybe if I just do nothing she'll find a way to let me know.

  “Good boy!” she says with a grin. “Good boy, Hugo! Stay!”

  Good? I'm just sitting here. I'm not doing anything.

  “Stay! Stay, Hugo! Stay!”

  Finally she stops.

  I tilt my head the other way.

  “A little longer,” she continues. “A little longer...”

  I wait.

  “Good boy!” she shouts. “Hugo! Come!”

  I rush toward her, and she gives me one of the liver treats. I immediately wolf the treat down, but then she holds her finger up again.

  “Stay!” she says firmly. “Hugo, stay!”

  She steps back.

  I step after her.

  She sighs.

  “Hugo, no, I -”

  “Maisie!” Linda calls out as she comes out of the house, wearing the coat and bag she always takes whenever we're going somewhere. “Time to go to the shop!”

  “Cool,” Maisie replies, turning to her. “Can Hugo come?”

  ***

  Hurrying across the dusty yard, I finally stop at the end of the driveway and watch as the car disappears around the far corner. I was hoping that Linda and Maisie might take me with them, but after chasing the car across the yard I can finally see that I'm going to have to stay here.

  Sitting down, I wait for them to come back.

  After a few minutes, however, I start wondering how long they're going to take.

  Still, I'm certain they'll be back at any moment.

  So I wait.

  And I wait.

  And finally, realizing that I need to go to the toilet, I walk over to a nearby post and pee. Then, after glancing along the driveway again, I turn and start walking back toward the house.

  Ever since we got up this morning, I've been feeling uneasy. I barely slept at all during the night, and now as I look up at the house I can't shake the feeling that somehow something is really wrong here. A strong breeze is blowing across the yard, whipping up the smells, and I keep getting a whiff of something foul and rotten. I don't want to go near anything that's diseased, which means staying clear of the back of the house, so instead I start making my way up the wooden staircase that leads to the front door.

  As I head inside -

  “Hang on there, buddy,” Michael says, suddenly stepping in my way and using a leg to push me back out onto the porch. “No, it's fine. I'm just talking to the dog. No, they just drove off. Can you give me a second?”

  He holds a finger up toward me.

  “You're not gonna be a pain today, are you?” he asks, staring down at me before sighing. “Okay, Hugo, go sleep or something. Do whatever a dog does. Anything's fine so long as you're not staring at me.”

  He moves his leg away, and I cautiously slip through the door and into the hallway. Almost immediately, the door slams shut behind me and I jump, quickly turning just as Michael heads through to one of the other downstairs rooms. He's still got that thing against the side of his face, and he's still talking as if there's someone else here. Sometimes I really don't understand humans.

  “I've told you,” he says as I watch him go and sit back down at his desk, “I had to make a lot of promises to get her out here. I just need some calm time to get my marriage in order. I've got too much tied up in all of this now. You understand, don't you?”

  He pauses for a moment, leaning back in his creaking leather chair.

  I sit down on my haunches.

  “I had to promise her that I wouldn't talk to anyone like you again,” he continues finally. “Single women. You get the idea. She's giving me a second chance. Well, a tenth chance, actually, but you're the only one she found out about. And as far as she's concerned, you and I no longer have any communication. Is that clear? She cannot find out that I'm still talking to you. She'd go ballistic.”

  He sighs as he opens the lid of his laptop.

  “I need financial stability for a while,” he adds, “so I can get the new company off the ground. In a year, or maybe eighteen months, I should be in a position to think about moving on to the next stage, but for now I need -”

  Suddenly he looks at me, and he freezes for a moment.

  “Hugo,” he says cautiously, “quit staring at me.”

  I don't know what that means, so I tilt my head a little as I continue to watch him.

  “Hugo, stop that.”

  I wait, hoping he'll say a word that I know. Walk, maybe, or pl
ay. Or lunch. Or snack. I know quite a lot of words.

  “It's the goddamn dog,” he mutters finally, getting to his feet and coming over to the door. “It's supposed to be my daughter's, but does she look after it? Does she hell.”

  I wag my tail.

  “Entertain yourself,” he adds, before swinging the door shut.

  I tilt my head to the other side as I hear him walking back to the desk.

  “I'd have left him in the city,” he continues, and I hear the chair squeaking again, “but you know how it is. Maisie loves the little critter. Not that she's old enough to really look after him, but anywhere she goes, he follows right after. I suppose it's cute, when it's not yapping away the whole time.”

  Realizing that maybe I'm not going to be getting any food right now, I get to my feet. I can still hear Michael talking in the next room, but it's clear that he's not going to say anything to me right now, so I walk across the hallway and then I stop at the bottom of the staircase. Looking up toward the landing, I see only gloom and shadows, although as I sniff the air I realize I can smell a different shade of rotten wood. Some parts of this house are definitely worse than others, but I've begun to notice that the smell from the basement is really starting to seem stronger up here now.

  Leaning down, I sniff the boards.

  Something's definitely rotten down there.

  Meat, maybe.

  Whatever it is, I don't like it. I don't like being near rotten things, because rotten things mean death, and death means -

  Suddenly I hear a creak on the stairs, and I look up just in time to see the broken-jawed woman walking calmly down toward me. She's wearing the same black dress as last night, and she's running one thin, bony hand along the railing as she finally gets to the bottom. As I back away, she walks straight past me and I feel the air briefly getting noticeably much colder, before the temperature quickly goes back to normal.

  The hairs are standing up on the back of my neck, and I watch as the woman walks slowly into the living room. I look at the door to the study, but I can still hear Michael talking, and then I turn to see that the broken-jawed woman is now out of sight.