“Well, if he wasn’t, who the heck was?” mused Vana, as they continued to read through the journal. Zoe began to jot down notes in a notebook. “This should be in the hands of the police. I wonder why it wasn’t shown during his trial.”
“Maybe it was, and the judge threw it out.”
Zoe got more comfortable. “Well, come on, does he say who he thinks was the Murderer?”
“Hang on,” said Vana as she read on. “Well – yes, and no.”
“What sort of answer is that?” said Zoe. She desperately wished that her friend would get to the point. “Well, it depends on what you believe.”
“Come on. You’re not making any sense.” Vana put the book down. “That’s probably what his lawyer told him at the time. Ellwood said all the murders were committed by a group of travellers.”
Zoe was getting frustrated. “OK, so why weren’t they arrested then?”
“Well,” said Vana, checking the page again, “this is where it gets really spooky. He said the murders had been done by the travellers’ ghosts.”
“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Zoe, as she grabbed the book from her friend and read the neatly written text. “That can’t be right. He’s wrong. I don’t believe it,” she said dismissively, and handed the book back to Vana. “He must have been insane.”
“Zoe, think about it. Are you forgetting what has happened to you in the last few days?”
“Yeah, but...”
“Yeah but nothing. Here, look at this.” As Vana turned the page she found loose sketches, drawn and signed by Charles St Claire, of Hagatha and Charder. Zoe took the drawings from Vana. She paled visibly.
“What? What is it, hun?”
“I’ve seen her.”
“Seen her? How? Where? You couldn’t have – she’s over a hundred years old!”
“I’ve been having nightmares. Vana, don’t look at me like that. I’m telling you the truth – I’m not messing!”
“Alright, babe, calm down. I believe you,” said Vana, giving her friend a hug, although she couldn’t work out how Zoe could have recognised the old woman. Maybe, she thought, Zoe had subconsciously seen a picture of Hagatha during her research about the Manor Murderer.
The pair continued their reading. “Ellwood says the travellers were responsible for the murders,” said Vana, as she turned another page.
“How did the travellers die?”
“They were hanged and their faces were badly mutilated – the same method as all the others.”
“God, that’s horrible. But I still can’t understand why I’ve been dreaming about her.”
“You’ve probably read about her somewhere, or seen a picture on the Web.”
“No,” said Zoe, as she pointed at the book. “This is the first time I’ve seen her.”
“Maybe she’s grounded here, then.”
“Oh, please don’t say that, Vana!”
“Well, how else could you have seen her?”
“Could be that residual energy or something else is keeping her here.”
Vana continued to read the fragile pages. “What? I don’t understand all this. Just a sec, Ellwood says here that the woman haunts this painting, which is called The Rattler, as well as the owner of the painting too!” said Vana, handing another sketch to Zoe. “Shit. This looks so much like James!” said Zoe. “No way, Vana. How is that possible?”
“Beats me. Anyway, apparently she cursed it with her blood. He goes into great detail and shows the research that he did into it.”
Zoe felt strange. “I don’t like this, Vana; I’m going cold all over.”
“Come on, hun, you’ll be fine,” she said, giving her friend another hug. “Have you seen this painting anywhere around the house?” Zoe shook her head. “Tell you what, we’ll Google it.” Vana knew that Zoe was getting stressed by all this. “It’s not too bad. Did I tell you about one of Matthew’s mates? He only did one of those tandem jumps last week – and fuckin’ died!” Zoe was horrified. “Who? You never told me that! Where?” Vana chuckled. “Unlucky sod, his partner was on a suicide mission!”
“Vana! That’s not funny.”
“Well, I had to make you laugh somehow!” Vana picked up the laptop and searched The Rattler. “Right. Let’s see what we can find. Google is great!”
They soon discovered The Rattler recorded and listed on a website as being sold in 1900 to the Clifford family. “It doesn’t say what happened to it after that. Let’s look up the Clifford family,” said Vana. They found a website detailing the horrific events of the house fire. “It looks like these were the last owners, so I guess it must have been destroyed in the fire.”
“That’s right,” replied Zoe, “they’re the family mentioned in the newspaper.”
“Let’s hope so, then maybe the curse will have gone too. I could really do with a hot chocolate.”
“What? Right now?”
“I know it’s the middle of the night, but I would love one – loaded with marshmallows! I need them after tonight’s excitement.”
2
The girls went down to the kitchen, and made their hot drinks which they took back up to bed. All was quiet in the house. The girls were kind of relieved – they felt they had found what the ghost wanted them to find. However, they were also concerned about the painting – it was so like James. And was Ellwood telling the truth? Could a ghost really commit murder? Why did Ellwood bother writing it all down in such detail if it wasn’t true – or was it just his escape clause? The girls wanted to believe the story – but it was a bit hard to swallow. And after all the man had been through the Courts, and they had found him guilty.
What, wondered the girls, would happen next?
17: Twiggy time
1
Zoe was having a morning run through the woods, listening to Take That on her iPhone. As she jumped over some fallen branches, she could see a lake and, in the background, an old Manor House which, unbeknown to her, had once belonged to the Mather family. “Wow,” she said, removing the leads, “what a fantastic place.”
She had just started to jog towards the house when she heard footsteps behind her. “Hello? Anyone there?” she shouted, as she turned around to look into the dark shadows. She could hear the sounds of twigs and branches snapping. “Vana? Is that you?” She walked back towards the woodland. There was no reply, but she could still hear the sound of movement. Suddenly, all went quiet. Zoe continued to peer into the darkness, feeling a little anxious. A huge black crow flew directly at her, just missing her head, and soaring over her shoulder.
“Christ! That made me jump!” She caught her breath again, and headed off – plugging her earphones back in as she went. Zoe had just gotten back into her stride when, all of a sudden, she tripped over a rotten log lying on the ground. “Idiot!” She rubbed her grazed knee as she sat for a minute, regaining her breath. As she got back to her feet, she saw, directly in front of her, two bodies hanging from the branches of a tree. She was petrified. Her heart started to pound. Zoe rubbed her eyes in disbelief. When she opened them again she was alone. The bodies had gone. “I don’t like this anymore,” she mumbled, nervously, as she headed towards home.
Then she was aware of different noises, voices echoing around the woods – “Little Miss Piggy! Little Miss Piggy!” She stopped, and then turned around and around before slumping down against a tree. “What’s going on? What’s happening to me?” she cried in anguish. “I’ll tell you what’s going on, Little Miss Piggy,” said a voice from behind her.
Hagatha materialised in front of her, a musty smell announcing her arrival. “I’ll tell you – but, not yet. And, I’m not going to hurt you – yet!” Zoe freaked out, got to her feet and started to run – glancing behind her all the time. With her heart pounding, and sweat dripping from her forehead, she ran faster and faster trying to escape from the old hag. She was petrified.
2
As she opened her eyes, she was back in bed, and Vana was snoring lightly beside her. “Shit
. If that was a dream, why can I still hear voices?”
Little Miss Piggy echoed around the landing outside. Zoe, in a state of curiosity, got out of bed and picked up her iPhone. “Why are you doing this alone?” she muttered.
The voice had stopped, but Zoe could now hear someone pacing around the lounge downstairs. She turned on the iPhone’s flashlight, and slowly made her way down the dark stairs. “OK! Come on Zoe, you can do this,” she said. “I’ve gotta check this out; I’m not going mad.”
The footsteps in the lounge stopped, but then Zoe heard a noise which she could not identify. As she walked into the lounge, and turned on the light, she saw that one of the photo frames on the window ledge had been turned face-down. She tiptoed over, holding her breath, and picked up the picture. It was of Aunt Sally. “What is going on?” she whispered, as she turned back towards the door.
“Miss me, Little Miss Piggy?” Hagatha stood in front of her. “Why are you doing this to me?” screamed Zoe.
“And, who is your little friend upstairs?”
With this, the ghostly figure disappeared. Zoe ran out of the room and up the stairs to the bedroom. The girl didn’t know what she was going to find. The first thing she noticed was that the bedroom door, which she had left open, was now closed. She gently pushed it open. She put on the light. Vana was lying on top of a blood-soaked bed. Her eyes had been gouged out, and there were red rope marks around her slender, white neck. Zoe screamed; tears coursed down her face. Her throat tightened up and she felt faint. What had happened to her friend?
Zoe woke up, still crying and gasping for breath. It had all been a bad dream, and Vana was lying next to her, still fast asleep. Zoe got up out of bed and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom. The young woman was sweating from head to toe. She bent over the toilet and made herself sick. Then, as the room started to spin, her legs went from beneath her. She collapsed onto the floor, shaking.
Some minutes later, she struggled to her feet and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She hated what she saw; hair mangled and stuck to her head, face grey, eyes blood-shot and black-ringed – she looked ill. She started to splash water over her face whilst the washbasin filled up.
Zoe held her breath and plunged her face into the water before coming back up for air. That felt better. She did it again, a few times, and started to feel more like her normal self. “It can’t happen again – it mustn’t. Think! What did Babs tell me?” she reflected. “That’s it. Listen for the Blackbird.” She ducked her face into the water again but, to her horror, she felt a strong hand on the back of her head holding it down. Bubbles of air were forced out of her mouth and nose as Zoe fought against her assailant. Adrenaline flowed through her veins as she battled for her life. Her arms flailed behind her while she tried to release the grip of her attacker – but this was an invisible enemy. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she started to pass out. The end was nigh; it was death on the Tarot cards.
“ZOE! What are you doing?” Vana’s voice was coming to her through a black mist. She pulled her friend to her. Zoe gulped for air. “It’s OK. You’re alright now; calm down Zoe, I’ve got you. Here, let me dry you off.” The girls sat down on the floor, Zoe still sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. “She was here. She was here. I saw her. I saw her.”
“There’s no one here but us.”
“I’m telling you, she was in here – she tried to kill me!”
“Alright, alright – just take deep breaths. You’re safe now.”
“She was in my dream. It felt so vivid this time,” whispered Zoe. Vana helped her friend to stand. “That’s all it was, hun, a bad dream. It may have felt real, but it was just a dream.”
3
The girls went cautiously back to the bedroom, and made sure the door was tightly closed behind them. “I’ve got to tell you, though, that I had a really strange dream too,” said Vana as she passed Zoe her dry nightclothes. “I was running through a wood and I fell over. The next thing I knew was a smelly, scruffy old man was doggy-shafting me, but then I saw his body hanging from a tree!”
“That’s really weird.”
“What is?”
“Oh nothing. At least you had sex in your dream – I almost died!” said Zoe. The girls hugged.
“What made you come to the bathroom when you did?”
“I don’t know really, other than I woke up – desperate for a piss – but the urge certainly went off me when I saw you with your head in the sink! Now, come on,” said Vana. “Let’s try to get some sleep.”
The girls snuggled down under the duvet, both totally exhausted by their nightmares. At least the house was peaceful; the paranormal activities had stopped – for now.
18: Morning all
1
Despite last night’s activities the girls slept well, and it was 10.30 am before they surfaced. Zoe quickly showered (feeling slightly uneasy as she entered the bathroom) and dressed. “You asleep?” she said to Vana, who was still snuggled under the duvet. “No, just give me a sec,” she said, drowsily. “How come you’re up and about?”
“I just feel energetic. I’ve bags of oomph!”
“Right, Ms Energetic,” said Vana as she got out of bed. “Shower, breakfast and run.”
“I’ll put the coffee on,” smiled Zoe.
Zoe went downstairs into the kitchen and put the kettle on. She then wandered into lounge to open the curtains and found, to her surprise, that Aunt Sally’s photo frame was face down again on the window ledge. “What the fuck! I’m dead sure I lifted this up last night?” she said, as she righted the frame once more. “It must be dodgy.” She went back into the kitchen and got the dishes out for breakfast.
2
In the meantime, Vana entered the bathroom and turned on the hot shower. As she stripped off to get into the shower she saw a message in the steam on the mirror. I’m watching you! Vana frowned. “Very funny, Zoe. That’s a good one,” she said as she got into the cubicle.
Zoe, meanwhile, was downstairs browsing Facebook on her phone whilst looking at the television. Morning PEEPS! she wrote as her status.
“Oh, can we turn over?” Vana asked, as she walked into the kitchen.
“Sure. Why?”
“Oh, that woman so gets into my earwax! I can’t stand her. She always seems so in your face.” Zoe duly changed the channel, whilst Vana poured herself a coffee and helped herself to a bowl of cereal.
3
The girls laced-up their trainers, plugged in their earphones and set off on their morning run through Chelsea. They ran all the way to Onslow Gardens before they needed a sugar stop. “Energy break?” asked Zoe, as they slowed down to walking pace. “Yeah, look for a newsagent,” replied Vana, glancing round the busy street. Duly refreshed, the girls set off again across Old Church Street.
“Vana, you didn’t by any chance happen to move any picture frames around in the lounge yesterday, did you?”
“Me? No, but I did have a feeling there was someone downstairs when we were in bed, but, with that weird dream I had, I couldn’t tell if I was hearing things.”
“I’m sure the frame was upright last night but this morning it was face down. Weird, huh?”
“Another thing we can’t explain,” replied Vana.
The girls were almost home when Vana got a text from Matthew. “Zoe, Matthew wants to know if we fancy a movie this afternoon. What do you think?”
“Sure. Why not. Ask him what time.” Matthew replied that he and his mate, Steven, would be over in about an hour. “Steven? Who’s that? Are you match-making again, Vana?” Vana laughed. “You know me, I always ask first. No, this is Matthew’s idea. Anyway he might be cute.” The girls went into the house, and Vana ran straight upstairs to get the first shower, whilst Zoe had a quick tidy up in the kitchen.
4
The lads arrived; Matthew, dark-haired, and Steven, dirty-blonde, were both in the university rowing team. Zoe gave Steven a quick once-over, and definitely liked what she saw – muscu
lar arms, toned upper body, and not bad looking either! Vana and Matthew were locked in a lover’s embrace. Zoe and Steven had an awkward moment as their friends played tongue hockey.
“Fancy a drink, Steven?” asked Zoe.
“Please,” replied Steven, his eyes wandering over Zoe’s body. “I could murder a cup of a coffee.” As the couple walked into the kitchen, there was a definite spark between them. Zoe thought: He is so my type. Vana sure had a hand in this!
5
Zoe and Steven were chatting in the lounge. “How are you finding the place?” Steven asked, whilst looking at the family photographs on the window ledge. “It’s OK; I mean it’s far bigger than the old one.”
“It’s certainly a nice house, Zoe.” The moment those words left his mouth he thought: Idiot! Why are you saying it’s a nice house? What a stupid pickup-line!
He quickly changed the subject. “So, I hear you’re a big gamer?” Zoe nodded. “Yes, my dad works in the industry and, lucky for me, he got me a part time job testing games.”
“Seriously?” he said, “that’s great.”
“What do your folks do?” She made eye contact.
“Oh, dad’s a farmer. The farm has been in the family for generations,” replied Steven. By now, the attraction between them was becoming visible. “Are you a country boy, then? Hoping to follow in your dad’s footsteps?”
“No way; too much like hard work! I hope to be a lawyer. How about you?”
“Anything to do with games design, I guess.”
6
Upstairs, Vana and Matthew were making out in the guest bedroom. “They’re bound to know what we’re up to,” he said, looking towards the open door. “Matthew, shut up and kiss me,” she said, lying back on the bed. Matthew positioned himself on top of her. The lovers continued to enjoy each other’s company when the atmosphere changed. Vana felt someone was watching them. “Stop a minute, Matthew,” whispered Vana, looking around the room, “I don’t think we’re alone.”
The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) Page 8
