“I can’t help thinking about last night,” said Finn as he lay on the bed and stared at the darkness of the room.
“Finn, listen to yourself, you sound ridiculous. It's something Rosie’s invented. It’s a coincidence and nothing more. She’s created an imaginary friend. I admit, what she’s made up is a little unusual, but she has an overactive imagination.”
“She’s not created a friend, she’s created a ghost,” replied Finn.
Jack cried. His voice sputtered over the baby monitor.
“You believe what you want, I’m going to see Jack.”
Sophie turned on the bedside lamp, threw on her dressing gown and left Finn on his own to wallow in his thoughts.
Finn replayed the previous evening’s events again in his mind. It had been on his mind all night, and he was thinking about it again. He’d never believed in the paranormal, but now he’d changed his mind. In the eleven hours of thinking of nothing else but what Rosie had told him, and not being able to come up with a plausible explanation, he’d concluded that his daughter had seen the ghost of the man who’d jumped in front of the train. And, Sally had confirmed that the suicide happened a year to the day. That couldn’t be coincidence.
Finn thought about the head in the bag and the way the dead man’s eye stared at him. He remembered how it looked at him as if it knew Finn would be there to witness the suicide.
Slowly, he made his way down to the kitchen and made coffee.
He handed a mug to Sophie who thought how old he looked. He was only twenty-nine, but it was as if he'd aged overnight. She noticed a wisp of grey hair on his temple. He looked more like thirty-nine.
“Please don’t worry about last night, I’m sure it was nothing.”
Finn ignored her, cupped his hands around the mug and looked across the road to the light in Kieran’s window. He was sure his neighbour wasn’t telling him everything about their house.
He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Rosie scurrying down the stairs.
“Can I have something to eat, please?”
Finn stood up, and turned to his daughter.
“How are you poppet?”
“Hungry daddy.”
“I mean after last night. Does your arm still hurt?”
Rosie shook her head.
“My arm?”
“Yes, is it better now?”
Rosie skipped to the kitchen as Sophie threw a glance at Finn. He followed her to the kitchen and poured cereal into a bowl.
“Last night you told me about a man in the kitchen with paper on his face and he’d helped you colour a picture.”
Rosie shook her head as she sat at the kitchen table, swinging her feet and eating her breakfast. Finn asked her again, but she ignored him.
He went to the lounge, and returned with the colouring book. He opened it to the page with the two red circular drawings.
“You told me the man made you draw this.”
“No one made me draw it, I did it myself.”
He turned to the neatly coloured picture.
“You told me the man in the kitchen helped you with this.”
She shook her head. “I did that.”
Finn dropped the book on the table and blew air from his cheeks in frustration.
“Rosie, last night you said there was man in the kitchen who had paper on his face. You told me he hurt your arm when he helped you draw.”
Finn was agitated. He looked at her right wrist as she ate her breakfast. He took the spoon from her hand and held her arm.
“Can you remember how you did this?” asked Finn pointing to the red mark on her wrist which was barely visible. Rosie shook her head, grabbed the spoon from the table and continued eating.
Rosie put the spoon in the bowl and looked at her father. A tear welled in her eye.
“I promised the man I wouldn’t talk about him.”
“The man with the paper on his face?”
Rosie nodded.
“Did you see him again?”
Rosie looked at the table.
“Rosie, you need to tell me. Did you see the man again?”
“I’m not telling you. I promised that I wouldn’t tell you about him anymore. He made me promise.”
“Okay Rosie, don’t worry. Don’t be upset.”
He left her on her own to finish her breakfast, went to the lounge and looked out across the road. Outside it was still dark and he saw Kieran getting into his car. He was going to march across the road and speak with him but decided against it. Kieran drove away and their eyes met as his car passed Finn’s window.
Sophie stood behind him and put her arms around him.
“I heard you talking to Rosie. I heard what she said.”
Finn nodded.
“I'll sort this out. I need to find out what Kieran’s not telling me.”
Sophie nodded and kissed him on his neck.
“You’d better get a move on, you’ll be late for work.”
Finn sighed and made his way to the bathroom to have a wash and shave.
Sophie considered what Rosie had told Finn. She had to admit that it was strange that it had happened a year since the suicide.
Unlike Finn, Sophie had always believed in spirits and ghosts and pondered what had happened. Maybe Rosie had seen something last night. If it wasn’t a ghost of someone who had thrown himself in front of the train, then maybe it was a ghost of another person who’d lived in their house before them.
Later that morning, after Finn had left for work and she’d dropped Rosie at reception class, Sophie was strapping Jack into the car and was ready to go shopping, when she saw Ruth walking along the road towards her house. In the months they’d lived there Sophie had hardly said two words to her neighbour. Other than Kieran, they’d spoken to almost nobody in the street. It was as if everyone was trying to avoid them. Even making eye contact was difficult.
As Ruth approached her house Sophie took time to adjust Jack’s straps. She wanted to time it so she shut the car door just as Ruth got to her gate.
“Hi Ruth, cold morning isn’t it?”
Ruth nodded. Sophie sensed an awkward conversation was about to take place, but was determined to speak with her. She came right out with it.
“Can I ask you something?”
“I’m busy, can we speak later?”
“No, Ruth if you don’t mind I’d prefer to talk with you now. I promise I won’t keep you. Jack's in the car, and we're in a hurry so it won't take long.”
Ruth sighed and turned to face her.
“Okay, how can I help?”
“What happened to the man who lived here before us?”
Ruth looked apprehensive and ran her fingers across the top of her garden gate.
“I don’t know what happened, he was an old man, and I presume he died of old age.”
Sophie was sure Ruth wasn’t telling the truth.
“Did you know him?”
Ruth shook her head. “Not very well, he wasn’t much of a talker.”
“Did he die in the house, or in hospital?”
“Sorry Sophie, I'm not sure what happened……. he just died.”
Ruth was a goddamn awful liar.
“So you live next door to a man for God knows how many years, he dies and no one told you what happened, and you didn’t bother to ask?”
Ruth said nothing.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but we were told you’re the gossip of the street. If that's true, surely you would be the first to find out what happened.”
“I don’t take kindly to being called a gossip.”
“I’m sorry Ruth, but I don’t give a crap what you think. There’s something about our house that’s being kept from us, and I’d like to know what it is.”
Sophie watched as Ruth shivered. She turned her back, grabbed a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. Sophie waited for Ruth to say something. The silence forced Ruth to speak. She turned around, cleared her throat, faced Sophie and
with tears in her eyes spoke.
“Robert Buxton was a fine man, he was a gentleman. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did.”
A neighbour walking her dog passed them on the other side of the road. Ruth lowered her head. Sophie waited for the dog walker to pass by and then whispered to Ruth.
“Robert Buxton, was that his name? How did he die?”
“Sorry, I don’t want to talk about it, please leave me alone.”
“Ruth, it’s important. Something happened in our house last night and I need to know what happened to Robert Buxton.”
“What happened?” asked Ruth, her ears pricking up.
“Rosie saw a man in the kitchen, and her description of him was, ........ well, let’s just say it was strange.”
“Did he speak with her?”
“Rosie said it was difficult to understand him, she said he had paper stuck to his face.”
Ruth shuddered again.
“Robert Buxton died in the same way as the others who lived there before him.” said Ruth.
“What others?”
“You’re the fourth family to move to this house. Before you there was Robert Buxton. He bought the house with his wife in nineteen ninety five to be near his son Henry who lives at number five. Robert lived here the longest.”
“We know of Henry Buxton and we know that we live in his father’s house.”
“Before Robert there was Emma and David, they lived here for six years and before them there was Shaun and Janet. They didn’t last long.”
“You said Robert Buxton died in the same way as the others who lived here before him, what do you mean?”
Ruth cried, blew her nose and cleared her throat.
“Shaun and Janet were lovely. They were a young couple, and this was their first house. Janet was pregnant and everything was great. Then something happened. I don’t know why, but things went wrong.”
Sophie waited while Ruth composed herself.
“They disappeared. Nobody had seen them in weeks. It was on the news, you may remember.”
Sophie shook her head.
“They were found in their car.”
“Who found them?”
“Police divers. The divers found them strapped in their seats at the bottom of a lake.”
“Which lake?”
“Bitterwell Lake. There were tyre marks on the bank. Shaun had driven into the lake, killed himself, Janet and their unborn child.”
Sophie gasped as condensation blew from her mouth.
“What about Emily and David?”
“It was Emma and David. Emma died. She had been ill, shortly after, David took his life. He couldn’t get over her death. He was a very sad man.”
“And Robert Buxton killed himself too didn’t he.”
Ruth nodded.
“Robert was a lovely man, as I said, a real gentleman, but he changed. Towards the end something happened to him. He fell out with Henry and became a recluse. He hardly left the house, and when he did, he didn’t speak. We used to be good friends. He was a good neighbour.”
“Ruth, did Robert kill himself in front of a train?”
She looked at Sophie and nodded.
“He died a year ago yesterday didn’t he?”
Ruth nodded again.
“Ruth, my husband was on the train that killed Robert.”
Ruth couldn’t talk any longer. She shut her gate and hurried up the garden path. She turned to Sophie and looked at her through teary red eyes.
“Please get out of that house. Don’t let it happen to you. Please move out as soon as you can.”
She slammed the door and left Sophie standing on the pavement in disbelief.
Chapter 16
It was early evening and Finn listened as Sophie recalled the conversation she’d had earlier that day with Ruth. When she’d finished, he stood up, poured a scotch and gazed out of the window.
“So we’ve bought the house of the man whose head I found on the tracks,” said Finn before taking a large gulp of whisky.
Sophie nodded.
“And everyone who has lived here has committed Hara-kiri?” he added.
“According to Ruth, yes.”
“How do you feel about that?” asked Finn.
“To be honest, it scares me. We've two small children. If there is anything odd about this place we should 'up sticks' and get out before it happens to us.”
“I think I may have overreacted after what Rosie said last night. We shouldn't do anything rash. I’m sure whatever caused Robert Buxton to kill himself would have nothing to do with the families who lived here before him.”
“But don’t you think it’s a strange coincidence when you consider what Kieran told you, about the issues with building on this plot?”
“That’s it. It’s a coincidence and nothing else.”
“So do you think Rosie saw Robert Buxton last night?”
Finn took his time to answer. He looked at Sophie and nodded.
“I think she did. But I can’t see what harm a ghost can do.”
“But according to Rosie the ghost held on to her, he made that red mark appear on her wrist.”
Finn didn’t have an answer. But he was sure about one thing. He wouldn't be intimidated into moving out of his own home. It would take more than a spectre to make him leave. He could see Sophie was nervous. She had a strong spiritual belief and Ruth’s stories were affecting her.
He put the scotch on the table and hugged her.
“Now listen, everything will be fine…… but if I’m wrong, I promise we’ll get out of here. If you bump into a man with his head under his arm, let him be. He won’t hurt us.”
Sophie didn’t find her husband’s remark funny.
“I’ll tell you what I'll do though. I'll knock on Kieran’s door tonight and ask him why he didn’t care to mention the suicides when we had our little chat.”
“He probably didn’t want to overload you with any more scary stories about our house.”
“Maybe you're right. But I’d like to speak with him again. I’ll find out whether there's anything else he didn’t mention.”
After Finn had cleared the dishes from the evening meal and taken Rosie to bed he noticed Kieran’s car was in his drive.
He hurried downstairs, grabbed his keys and told Sophie he was off to visit Kieran.
“Good luck!” said Sophie as he left the house.
Kieran opened the door and greeted Finn with his usual smile.
“Hi, can we talk?”
Kieran beckoned Finn and pointed to the lounge.
“Take a seat, I’ll get you a beer.”
“No Thanks, I won't have a drink.”
“No beers? This must be important.”
“Well, yeah, I guess. Why didn’t you tell me about Robert Buxton?”
“Do you know what happened to him?”
“I do now. Sophie spoke with Ruth and she told her what happened, and what happened to the others who lived in our house before him.”
“What did Ruth tell Sophie about Buxton?”
“Ruth didn’t tell her what happened to Robert, Sophie knew. Ruth confirmed what we’d worked out for ourselves.”
“So did Ruth actually say how Robert Buxton died?”
“What does it matter Kieran? No she didn’t say how he died, but her body language gave it away. I’ve just said Sophie and I know what happened to him.”
“Okay Finn, you tell me. How did he die?”
Finn was irritated. Kieran appeared to be playing a game with him. Finn wasn't in the mood to be messed around.
“Robert Buxton threw himself in front of a train at Stapleton Road Station. He killed himself a year ago yesterday. And I was on the train.”
Finn expected a different reaction from Kieran. There was no ‘oh my God’! or ‘you gotta be joking!’. Finn wasn’t sure he didn’t detect a faint smile from Kieran.
“Robert Buxton’s head was taken clean off by the train. I saw it, I was there.�
��
“That sounds awful. It must have been a terrible shock for you….. are you sure you don’t want that beer?”
“No thank you. You should have told me about the suicides. I reckon there're a few things you've not told me.”
“To be honest Finn, I was worried I'd give you a case of information overload. I told you enough last time. I didn’t consider it the right time to bring up the suicides.”
Finn shrugged his shoulders.
“I wish you’d told me. I could’ve taken it.”
“How’s your wife taking the news?”
“She’s not happy, she reckons we should move out.”
“She’s not taking it well. Give her time, she’ll get used to it.”
Finn nodded and looked nonplussed.
“Kieran, if we're to continue being friends, and I hope we will, you need to be honest with me. You need to tell me everything.”
Kieran nodded.
“I will, but you need to see it from my point of view. It was difficult for me to tell you the odd things that have happened.”
“Okay, I’d better be getting back to Sophie."
Kieran walked him to the door and bid him farewell.
The telephone rang in Gabriel Butler’s study.
“Yes, who is this?”
“It’s me. You’re in business.”
“Are you sure?”
“He confirmed the final link sir. He told me he was on the train and he found Buxton’s head. They’ve definitely connected. He’s the one.”
“Good work. So now we sit back and wait.”
“Yes sir. Mr, Butler, may I ask you something? Can I be paid now?”
“You will Mr. Tempest, you will.”
Chapter 17
1st January 2006
Normality had returned to the Maynard’s household. Rosie hadn’t mentioned the man she’d seen in the kitchen and the last two weeks had been busy. Christmas Day had come and gone and Rosie had been excited beyond belief. Jack was too young to understand, but was happy to be part of it.
Sophie loved New Year’s Day but Finn wasn’t so keen. Sophie considered it a blank canvas to start over again and to achieve more than she’d done in the past twelve months. Finn was different. New Year made him low, all he wanted was to stay in bed. The run up to Christmas and the excitement was yanked away from beneath his feet leaving him in a short-lived void of gloom.
The Third Skull (Book one - The Discovery): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller Page 8
