Dream Cottage

by Harriet J Kent

  Rev Oli nodded.

  “Yes, I am aware of Barnabas, but not of all his ancestral history. I am aware he was a smuggler who lived at Greenacres, in the 1700s. There is talk that the cottage was linked with the Smuggler’s Hide pub and that Barnabas and his accomplices dug a tunnel between the two properties to store smuggled goods… contraband, and travel unseen along it, out of sight of the customs men. I am not sure what he smuggled, but I can only assume it was the usual smuggling booty - alcohol and tobacco.”

  “So you knew of his connection with Greenacres?” Greta snapped.

  “Yes, my dear. I’m afraid I did know.”

  “Did you know what happened to him? How he died?”

  Rev Oli shook his head.

  “No. Only that he smuggled contraband and stored it here, or possibly underground. I never knew of his demise. I don’t know if anyone is aware. It comes up for discussion every now and then in idle gossip but any rumour is instantly quashed by Mr Marcus Mowbrie.”

  “Funny that, isn’t it.” Greta walked away and thrust her hands into her pockets. “I wonder why Marcus Mowbrie covered up any rumours? I wonder how much he has to hide?”

  “I don’t really wish to talk about that man,” Rev Oli shuddered. His shoulders quaked as he spoke. “He’s not a particularly nice person. He is, has been very… threatening.”

  “I’m not surprised, judging by the way his ancestor behaved. So now we know why he was so desperate to buy Greenacres. Because it was the family home. Why have you prevented him from doing so? Don’t you fear for your life, Rev Oli? Don’t you go to bed some nights and wonder if you will ever wake up?”

  “Greta! That’s enough!” Nonie shrieked.

  “No, Nonie, it isn’t! I am sickened by the fact that Rev Oli here LIED to us, to Max and to me. He knew perfectly well what had happened here. He decided to omit that from the sales details. What else did you conveniently forget to tell us, Reverend? Do tell us, I am dying to know!” Greta scoffed.

  “My dear… Gretel…” Rev Oli began.

  “Just one more thing!” Greta roared. “It is Greta! Not Gretel, Greta! If you are going to address me, then please get my name correct! G, R, E, T, A! Greta! I am not something out of a nursery rhyme or fable. Unlike your version of events! Do you understand?”

  Rev Oli closed his eyes. He didn’t speak. Greta looked at Nonie, who was horrified. She took Greta to one side and held her arm.

  “You shouldn’t speak to a man of the cloth like that, Greta. It is very disrespectful. You should apologise to him, now!”

  Greta shrugged off Nonie’s grasp on her arm.

  “Don’t you think he should apologise to us, for selling us a property that is involved in murder and plagued by the dead? Come on Nonie, I don’t think I should be the one apologising! He should be on his knees for this! He knew all along about this Barnabas character. He probably couldn’t believe his luck when Max and I were desperate to buy this place. He was probably doing cartwheels down the aisle! What?”

  Nonie pointed at the Reverend who had keeled over by the well. He looked as if he had been punched in the stomach.

  “So what? He is probably looking for God!” Greta sneered and walked over to where Rev Oli was poised.

  “What can you see? Is it Barnabas or the devil?”

  Rev Oli held on to his side. He was breathing strangely.

  “I think we have another encounter with Barnabas about to start,” Nonie indicated towards the well.

  There was a strange light flashing on and off at the bottom of the well. It was intermittent and very bright. Rev Oli held on to the remaining bricks of the well wall and reached inside his jacket pocket. He drew out a small bottle of water and a wooden cross. Nonie reached out and steadied him as he stood upright and clasped a small black bible in his other hand. He passed the bottle of water to Greta.

  “Unscrew this for me, Greta. Hold it in front of me.”

  “Please help me…” the voice from the passage below croaked.

  He thumbed through the bible until he reached a marked page and began reciting from the Book of John. Holding the cross at arm’s length into the mouth of the well, he continued to speak in a monotone voice.

  “…but the will of him that sent me. And this is the Father’s will which hath sent me, that of which he hath given me….”

  Within seconds, Rev Oli was hurled backwards by an unseen force. He was thrown to the ground and his head hit against the wall. He lay crumpled in a corner of the kitchen, his head bowed forwards. He still held on to the cross and gradually lifted his arm with the cross defiantly in his hand. He continued to mutter from the Book of John.

  “Greta! Unscrew the bottle. When the Reverend finishes speaking, flick it into the direction of the well. Not all of it, just a few drops. We don’t want to waste any.” Greta looked at the bottle and did as she was asked. Rev Oli was still muttering.

  “Okay, when I say so, flick the water over the well!” Nonie was standing by the side of Greta and looking at Rev Oli at the same time.

  “Do it NOW!” she yelled.

  Greta flicked the bottle for all she was worth. As the water hit the sides of the well, it hissed and spat as though it was boiling.

  “He’s there; Barnabas is down there!” Nonie pointed to the well. “Do it again, Greta! Again!” she urged.

  Greta flicked more water into the well and again it fizzled in retaliation.

  “Stop throwing water over me! Just get me out of here!” a voice squeaked from beneath the ground.

  “Okay, I am getting a message from Willow…”

  “What?” Greta squeaked.

  “Wait?” Nonie was silent. “Okay, right. She is telling me that Barnabas is refusing to go. That there is something else in the tunnel.”

  “What? You don’t say!” Greta’s sarcasm returned.

  “Yes. He is threatening Willow and Evie again. He… wait… he… oh, no…” Nonie froze; her body became rigid as her voice began to speak in a very gruff and manly fashion. She rose up, turned her head menacingly to one side, eyes glaring down at Greta.

  “You are not welcome here. You do not deserve to be here. This is my domain. No one will ever move me from here. I will be here for eternity. Leave me! Leave this house now! I have been here for many hundreds of years. This is my home. It is mine! I will not let anyone take it. Ever! You will be forever cursed if you do!”

  Greta was furious.

  “If you think I am giving in to the likes of you, Barnabas Mowbrie, then you had better think again. We bought this property, fairly and squarely. It belongs to Max and to me. We want to live here in peace. Without the likes of you disturbing us and trying to drive us out! You shouldn’t have murdered Willow. You should have led a peaceful, honest life. Not one of smuggling, deceit and murder! You’re paying the price for your heinous crime. You are committed to a world of darkness, of evil. There is no escape for you. You made those decisions in your lifetime, you must adhere to them. Now, you leave Greenacres. You leave Willow and Evie alone. Let them be, they are the innocent victims. You are the perpetrator. You will pay for your sins. Leave this house now! Leave!”

  As she spoke she flicked more holy water into the well. She turned and looked over at Rev Oli, who was unconscious. She grabbed the bible from his clasp and scanned to the pages from where he had been reading. She continued to recite the verses. Nonie was stood over the well. She had turned white and was holding on to her chest, the spirit of Barnabas had left her body.

  “Keep going Greta! Keep speaking! Be steadfast! He is growing weaker, he is definitely growing weaker!” she gasped.

  Greta continued her speech. Her eyes glanced first at Nonie and then at Rev Oli who was motionless. She reached for the cross and held it at arm’s length.

  “Be gone! In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost! Be gone, forever!” she yelled and threw the remaining water into the well, along with the bottle as it fizzed and spat over the walls. The bottle reach
ed the bottom of the well and smashed upon impact. Silence swept through the kitchen.

  Greta’s heart was pounding as she drew the cross close to her chest and held the bible in her other hand.

  “Has he gone?” she whispered.

  “I’m not sure. I think he might have,” Nonie returned. “I can’t pick up on him. The presence has gone. Oh nooo!”

  Nonie resumed her rigid stance. Her eyes were large like saucers, lifeless, unblinking. Barnabas had taken over her body once more.

  “I, Barnabas Mowbrie, smuggler, of Greenacres, will remain forever…”

  Greta tried to converse with him.

  “When did you die, Barnabas?” she tentatively asked. Nonie’s body rose slightly off the ground as Barnabas communicated.

  “A long time ago, many centuries ago. They found me; I was in the tunnel, guarding my goods.”

  “Was it another smuggler who killed you?” Greta continued.

  “No, it wasn’t another smuggler.”

  “Okay. So what did you store in the tunnel?”

  “Brandy, tobacco, tubs of rum.”

  “Not any items of gold then?”

  “No! It was too dangerous to deal in. I would have been caught, had it have been mine,” Barnabas replied.

  “Right. So who killed you? How did you die? Where did you die?” Greta went in for the kill.

  “It was the holy man. He blocked off the tunnel, so I could not escape. I tried to dig my way out, but without success; it was difficult, I only have one hand. I died of starvation and thirst in that dark hellhole. He showed me no compassion. I cannot rest. I am damned to exist like this for eternity. It’s all down to the holy man. He has placed this cursed anguish upon me and upon my soul.”

  “Are you trying to kill Rev Oli in revenge, then?”

  Barnabas didn’t answer.

  “Barnabas, can you hear me?” Greta prompted.

  “Yes, I hear you. Revenge is sweet!”

  “But not for Willow; not for Evie.”

  “I did not kill this being you refer to as Evie!” Barnabas said angrily.

  “Why did you kill Willow?”

  “That interfering girl got in my way; she saw me hide it. I had to stop her!”

  “Hide what? What did you hide?”

  “The box,” Barnabas murmured.

  Greta shook her head in sadness. “But she was only a child, how could you be so callous, so cruel?”

  “Life was also cruel to me,” he replied.

  “Who killed Evie, Barnabas? Did you see who killed Evie?”

  Barnabas was silent. At length he spoke.

  “It was he!”

  Greta was puzzled. “Who?”

  “The holy man!” As he answered, Nonie’s left arm raised up and her finger was pointing in the direction of Rev Oli.

  “You can’t be serious! Not Rev Oli, surely? You must be mistaken!” Greta was alarmed.

  “It was him! He killed her!” Barnabas was insistent.

  “You are scaring me now.” Greta took a few steps away from the well.

  “Be careful!” Barnabas warned.

  Nonie slumped to the floor, her arm still outstretched in front of her.

  “Nonie! Wake up! Come on, wake up!” Greta shook Nonie from her stony slumber.

  “He’s gone again, hasn’t he?” Nonie mumbled. She raised her arm to her head. “Oh! My head really aches!”

  “I’ll get you an aspirin. We have a major problem,” Greta added.

  “Another one?” Nonie opened her eyes and focused on Greta.

  “Barnabas was telling me, through you, that he saw Rev Oli murder Evie!”

  “Oh that cannot be true, surely not? You can’t believe everything he says.” Nonie removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Don’t forget, he’s full of evil. He’s more than likely lying!”

  “I don’t know what to believe any more. What about this talk of the man with the same name?”

  “Surname, yes, Mowbrie. But hang on a moment. Did Willow mean surname or first name do you think?”

  “Well, that is a thought. I will try to raise her,” Nonie stumbled to her feet. “I need to sit down first, though. I feel really terrible.”

  “Here,” Greta dragged an old workbench belonging to the builders for her to sit on. It was covered in brick dust but Nonie was keen to sit, on no matter what. She plonked herself on to the bench and concentrated. At length, she spoke.

  “Evie has just communicated with me. She is telling me that she too was murdered by a man with the same name. It wasn’t Barnabas; it wasn’t a holy man. She was strangled in the garden; left outside. The man who committed the crime was very clever, she tells me. Devious to disguise the fact that she died by strangulation. The perpetrator killed her in such a way that there was no trace of his hands pressing on her windpipe that calmly drew the life from her. The crime was never solved. Even the police remain baffled as to her death. It was recorded as death by misadventure by the coroner. The only mistake Evie made was being late paying her rent. She says she missed one monthly payment and her landlord, at the time, was furious with her. So upset that he… wait, what did you say, Evie?” Nonie stopped speaking and listened, her eyes closed. She nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay, okay, don’t cry, Evie, please don’t cry…” Nonie sighed.

  “Who was the landlord?” Greta winced in anticipation.

  Nonie opened her eyes.

  “She is saying her landlord was Reverend Oliphant!”

  “Yes, we know that. But I cannot believe Rev Oli would kill.” Greta looked in horror towards where Rev Oli had been slumped on the floor.

  “Is she sure? Are you sure, Nonie?”

  Nonie nodded without answering.

  Greta turned around just as Rev Oli had got to his feet and was staggering to the back door. The wound on his forehead oozed blood.

  “Is this true, Rev Oli?” she yelled at him. “Did you kill Evie?”

  “I am not listening to any more of this drivel! How can you accuse me of committing a crime? I am a man of the cloth, for the Lord God’s sake! I would not do such a terrible thing! Thou shalt not kill!” He continued to make his way to the door, bashing against the walls as he fled, he still clutched his chest. Blood trickled in rivulets down his face.

  “Why would someone blame you, if there wasn’t any truth in it?” Greta shouted.

  “I have no idea, Gretel. Now I must leave this place!” Rev Oli reached for the handle of the door but Greta held it fast so he couldn’t leave.

  “No so fast, Reverend. I’m not convinced. We have three people stating you are Evie’s murderer. Okay, so they are no longer of this world. And why would Nonie make up such a story? There’s no need for her to lie.”

  “As I stated earlier, I have no idea. Now please, I must leave this place!” Rev Oli pushed Greta away from the door and staggered out into the garden.

  “Why did you do it? Was it because Evie was late paying her rent? How could you?” Greta yelled.

  “I didn’t do it! He did it! He tried to blame me! I didn’t do it!” shrieked Rev Oli. He turned around in the garden and pointed at the roof of Greenacres.

  “You aren’t making any sense. Who?” Greta was confused.

  “Mowbrie! He was blackmailing me. He threatened me that I must get rid of my tenant, Evie. He constantly kept on and on at me to get her out of the cottage. He wanted the cottage for himself! I threatened me. I had to give him money; and lots of it!”

  “To do what?”

  Rev Oli was fanatical; he screamed. “It was him all along. He wanted rid of Miss Lukin, Evie! He wanted her out of the cottage so he could buy it from me for a pittance. He was so desperate to buy Greenacres. But I wouldn’t let him have it. I just wouldn’t!”

  “This is crazy! How despicable!” Greta was shocked.

  “Mowbrie drove me near to insanity! Constantly watching my every move, taunting me with threats! I was determined not to let him have Greenacres, at any cost!”

  �
�Why didn’t you tell the police?”

  “I couldn’t! He would have killed me; he pushed me into a corner. He told me if I said anything that he would kill me. He kept demanding more and more money from me. The only income I had was from the rent of Greenacres, and when Evie didn’t pay, I feared for my life! Of what repercussions it might have on me. I couldn’t bear to think of what he would do to me!”

  “So he was blackmailing you. I can’t believe all this can happen in such a quiet community.”

  “I am sorry, Gretel, to disappoint you. I… ahhhhh!”

  Rev Oli dropped to the floor like a stone. He laid face down in the grass in the back garden. Greta rushed over and turned him gently on to his side. She felt for a pulse. She shook her head in disbelief.

  “Oh no! Please no!” she hastily reached for her mobile phone and dialled 999.

  “Police please, and an ambulance!”

  After making the call, Greta held on to Rev Oli’s hand. His pulse was very weak.

  “Don’t you die on me, Reverend. You can’t escape that easily. There are a lot of unanswered questions you need to tell us. I know the police will be keen to speak with you.”

  Rev Oli eyes were closed. He was lifeless but he was still breathing, short and shallow breaths. The distant sound of emergency services sirens were becoming louder as they reached Greenacres. Two paramedics jumped out of an ambulance, ran over to where Rev Oli lay and took over.

  “This is Reverend Oliphant. I think he’s had a heart attack.” Greta spoke in a whisper.

  “Thank you, we’ll treat him, now,” the paramedic replied. A police car arrived on the scene shortly afterwards.

  “Hello, I would like to report a crime, please, officer,” Greta announced.

  Chapter Twenty

  Max had arrived earlier in the evening at Greta’s parents’ home. Nonie, Greta and Max were all sitting around the kitchen table. Each clutched a glass varying from a sherry schooner to a whisky tumbler. They sat in silence. Jeanne and Charles were in the drawing room. They too sat in silence. Greta’s phone rang.

  “Hello? Yes, this is Greta Berkley. Oh… no… oh, okay. Thank you for letting me know.” She ended the call. Nonie looked at Greta.