MAGDALENA'S GHOST: THE HAUNTING OF THE HOUSE IN GALLOWS LANE

by Peppi Hilton

  “It may not seem long to you – you’re not the one who’ll be staying here alone. It sounds like a life sentence to me and I don’t think I can do it,” she moaned pathetically.

  She was beginning to panic internally. Her mind began to wander back to the things that she had tried so hard to push behind her: the old woman, the snoring, and the sheer creepiness of some parts of the house – in fact most parts of the house. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Suddenly they were all becoming real again and her imagination was beginning to take over once more.

  “I’ll make sure everything is secure before I go. By the time I’ve finished you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about.”

  Lucy had never imagined that she would have to consider sleeping alone in the house, she was only just adjusting to actually living in it – and even that was touch and go!

  She had to concede that this was one debate she was definitely going to lose. And whilst she was far from pleased, she knew she couldn’t do a thing about it. Maybe if she focused on the idea of a new bathroom and kitchen, it would distract her from the fear of sleeping alone at night in a house which was far too big for a couple, let alone one person – and to make matters worse, a house which would scare the living daylights out of any normal person.

  She really did want a new kitchen, there wasn’t one as such, and as for the bathroom it was really grotty. She had tried everything possible to clean the toilet, but nothing worked and she really hated having to use it. So there were plenty of reasons to feel happy at Anton’s plans – but being alone in that big empty house was not one of them. In fact, the mere thought of it scared her half to death! She knew she would now spend every minute, of every day, leading up to when he was due to leave, living in sheer terror at the idea.

  The dreaded day came too quickly and it was upon them before Lucy had time to adapt her mind to it. She had packed Anton’s clothes and toiletries in the van the night before he was due to set off. By the following morning she had butterflies in her stomach and she was wondering how on earth she was going to cope without him.

  Sensing her fear and anxiety from the outset, Anton had installed some external security lights for her, which was a help, although Lucy wondered if they would make matters worse. What if, for example, the lights came on outside due to the wind, or perhaps even a stray cat? After all, they were sensitive to any movement catching the beam, so it could easily happen. And if it did, she would have good reason to suspect intruders were trying to get in. So she would have preferred a straightforward external lamp which could be manually operated by a switch inside the front door, so that she could leave it on all night. But Anton insisted he knew what he was doing. He had also installed a make-shift alarm, but once again Lucy thought that could be a problem if it went off and turned out to be a false alarm – what would THAT do to her? And anyway, it wasn’t outside intruders that she was worried about, that wasn’t her main concern. It was whatever lurked indoors that made her afraid. Once he was gone, she would be vulnerable on her own to whatever sinister presence might be lying in wait for her – for example, that old woman! And who knows, she may even have accomplices.

  She had really tried to drum some sense into her head. She’d tried to brainwash herself into believing that there was no such thing as a ghost, and haunted houses didn’t really exist if that’s what was worrying her. But it wasn’t working. She was becoming seriously imaginative, and by the time he was due to leave – she was a dithering wreck!

  “All you have to do love is to leave some lights on as soon as it starts to darken. A lamp down here and one in the hall and the ones in our bedroom will make you feel safer. You’ll be alright, just wait and see,” he reassured her again. “If you take your mind off all the empty parts of the house, they’ll soon cease to exist and you’ll wonder why you ever made such a fuss.” But funny enough, it wasn’t working!

  “Putting lights on in the hall makes it look creepier than ever,” she mumbled as a pout forced its way through.

  “But you’ll get used to it, honest you will. It’s only because there isn’t any wallpaper on the walls, and it’s all darkened with age.” He held her by the shoulders and looked at her confidently. “It’s our home now, our little nest. Think of it like that. It’s true what they say you know, that beauty is in the eye of the beholder – and so is fear. It’s all part of your imagination which causes you to believe that things are happening just because you’re alone. But think about it, why would something happen because I’m not here, if it doesn’t happen when I am?” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead.

  Lucy looked at him in bemusement. It’s alright for him being brave, but he’s not the one staying behind. So his logic couldn’t penetrate her mind – he hadn’t left yet and she was already feeling quite sick.

  “Why can’t I come with you?” she pleaded.

  “Aw, you know you can’t love. I’m going to work – it’s not a holiday. What would you do each day and who would look after the house? And anyway, we need the money.”

  “I could stay in the van. I could have your meals ready each day, just like I normally do.” She was beginning to feel frantic.

  But Anton just smiled and shrugged it off. He knew she would eventually settle down to the idea – she had no choice. She was just behaving like any other woman who was faced with the same predicament; they always get scared when they’re alone in the dark. It’s just the way it is.

  And so it was left like that.

  Anton set off early and Lucy was alone in the house for the first time. She was glad of her part-time job to go to otherwise she would have felt extremely lonely by herself day and night. It was only a short walk to the bus stop that would take her to work and she had become quite used to it, but she had to make sure she arrived at the bus stop in good time as there wasn’t another bus for three hours; such was the hamlet of Judge Fields.

  He had promised to drive back up North to be with her each week-end, so she felt much better about that, and her little job would help to kill some time. She would be out in a morning and by the time she did some shopping and caught the bus back home, it would be mid-afternoon. She would spend the rest of her time cleaning and sorting out some more of their belongings, and by the time she had cooked something to eat it would be bedtime. Hopefully the days and nights would pass quickly, but even though she’d tried to convince herself of that, somehow it didn’t seem to penetrate her mind sufficiently for her to feel better. It’s just that the days were not a problem – the nights were!

  When she got home that day it was four o’clock. She had offered to work some extra hours and that had helped to utilise some time before popping to the shops for something for tea. When she got through the door it felt empty and lonely. She hadn’t realised just how quiet it was until now, apart from the sound of her footsteps echoing loudly on the bare floorboards. She walked across the main hall – which now seemed even more shabby and dilapidated – and as she walked into the sitting room and across to the scullery, she stopped suddenly. She had just walked past the old cushion and it was on the floor; it was the one that Anton used on the old rocker. And what’s more, the rocker had gone! She stopped and stared in bemusement as she picked up the cushion. She walked into the scullery and to her surprise found the rocker back in its former place in front of the old range. She stared at it in amazement, her mind momentarily blank. She was certain it was in the sitting room, where Anton had left it, before she went to work. She certainly couldn’t recall him moving it back in front of the range. Perhaps he’d moved it back and she just hadn’t noticed. But it wasn’t like Anton to throw the cushion on the floor – she might just do that, but he definitely wouldn’t.

  She wasn’t short of ideas to fuel her imagination, so she could do without any strange happenings during the time she was out at work – and whilst Anton was away. But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that the cushion must have accidentally been dropped that morning when Anton
moved the rocker into the scullery, the more she doubted it. She knew Anton, he was a stickler for tidiness and organisation, which held her in check too because by nature she was just the opposite – or had been until she’d met him. So if Anton had been moving the rocker, which she still doubted, and the cushion had dropped on the floor, he would’ve picked it up – she knew he would. Or perhaps he just hadn’t seen it because his mind was too busy worrying about leaving her on her own? After all, no-one is infallible – couldn’t he just for once have made a mistake?

  But her mental wanderings just wouldn’t let her be, because there was the matter of that old woman again and that rocker. Her imagination was being tried and tested to its limit, and Anton would definitely think she was going slightly mad if he knew. It was bad enough telling him about the old woman she had seen in the first place, he’d never quite let her live that down. Then came the snoring lark – he definitely wasn’t amused by that! If she attempted to mention the old rocker having moved by itself into the scullery – well, she wouldn’t care to think what his reaction would be. But she was still certain it wasn’t there when she’d left that morning. Maybe she was going slightly bonkers! Thoughts of madness brought back the memory of what Anton had been told by the local authority. Hadn’t he said that the last two occupants had been driven mad? What if the same thing was happening to her? Could that old adage: everything happens in threes, be true? Could she be number three occupant who would be driven insane? It didn’t bear thinking about. Then her nervous thoughts turned into angry ones. She’d always known there was something strange and sinister about the house. She’d felt it from the first time she’d peered through that dirty old pane of glass and seen some peculiar old woman staring back at her. And why should it be presumed that it was her feeble imagination? Why could she not be given the benefit of the doubt and presume that there was really someone at the bottom of the stairs at the time? After all, the pub landlord and the old man had certainly reacted when she’d asked them who she was. And there was something rather strange about that old man too – after all, why had he suddenly disappeared after palming the keys off to a naïve and gullible Anton?

  In fact there was something fishy about the whole thing!

  There was no doubt in her mind that Anton was becoming possessed by the house, or something in it, which was much more disturbing than his obsession on first seeing it. Because being obsessed by it, and being possessed by it, were two entirely different things and somehow it was taking him over, she was sure of it. He wasn’t quite the same old Anton she knew – it was as if he was becoming someone else. And the more he seemed to get sucked in, the more, it seemed, that she was being pushed out and she didn’t know why. Was it a ploy to get rid of her so that the house could have him all to itself? But now her mind was rambling incoherently and she was bordering on becoming neurotic. If she didn’t watch herself the house might possess her too, but not exactly in the same way as it seemed to want to possess Anton. Did something sinister want to possess her mind? It didn’t bear thinking about, because surely that route could only lead to the asylum, which would be to follow in the footsteps of the previous occupants. She shuddered at the idea.

  She desperately needed to drive the nonsense out of her head and pull herself together otherwise Anton wouldn’t be the only one to think she was mad. There were only two options as far as she was concerned, either she was right, or she was wrong. Maybe time would prove it one way or another.

  She walked determinedly towards the old rocker and dropped the cushion onto the seat with a vengeance, and then immediately stepped back from it again. She didn’t even dare touch it, let alone move it back into the sitting room. What was it about that stupid old rocker that could have such an effect on her? She had a mind to throw it in the skip which was out in the garden. And the more she allowed herself to dwell on that idea, the more she was tempted to do so. She could do it whilst Anton was away, but what would he say when he returned? After all, he had become rather attached to it. And she knew he would never forgive her, so the idea was more than her life was worth. So she had no choice but to leave it where it was, and where it evidently wanted to be. She kept a wide berth each time she had to pass it, and eyed it suspiciously when doing so. It might be just an old rocker, but strange things had happened to her each time she got too close to it. Better not to think about it again, otherwise she risked becoming paranoid.

  She already had too many unanswered questions in her mind, to which she preferred not to seek answers. She was nervous enough at the thought of being left alone in a house which was becoming increasingly more difficult for her to call home, without looking for additional excuses to become a raving lunatic. If her earlier thoughts were right and Juniper didn’t want her there, and for some unfathomable reason it wanted Anton, then surely she should be strong and not let it get the better of her. And anyway Anton belonged to her, why should she give him up without a fight, after all she found him first. But she stopped herself from going any further with her bizarre notions, otherwise she risked falling victim to the wayward and melodramatic thoughts of a phobic woman. And wasn’t it a bad idea to be concentrating on such disturbing thoughts when she had to sleep alone in the place for the very first time – and in just a few hours? She was already feeling jittery and had butterflies in her stomach as she dreaded the oncoming evening. She really did need to get her act together and come to her senses otherwise she wouldn’t last the night on her own.

  Soon the darkness of the evening began to cast its eerie shadow around Juniper and Lucy began to feel the first serious signs of unease. She had heeded Anton’s advice and switched on some lamps, and she’d also dug out a couple more from the unpacked boxes in the hall. Although there were no spare shades for them, at least they would give some extra light and they were better than nothing. She plugged one in to an old socket which she’d spotted in the main hall, but when she switched it on the vast hall and staircase took on an even spookier and more eerie atmosphere. On reflection, it was better left in the dark so she couldn’t see it. She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine as she wondered whether she should unplug it again. However, she chose to leave it where it was hoping she’d get used to it. Having found an extension lead in Anton’s box of tools and paraphernalia, she plugged the second one into a socket in the sitting room; it helped a little and it was the best she could do, and as she wasn’t planning on staying downstairs any longer than need be, it hardly mattered. She intended to leave them all on through the night, as Anton had suggested, so she wouldn’t feel so nervous.

  She decided to leave the two bedroom lamps switched on and close the curtains early so that it would look welcoming and warm when going to bed. She’d also found an old hot water bottle in an empty cupboard in the scullery, and checked it for punctures before filling it up. She placed it in the bed early on in the evening with her nightdress wrapped firmly round it. At least it would be nice and warm before she got in later. Thankfully the atmosphere of the bedroom felt different to the rest of the house, and she was certain that she’d feel less nervous once she’d shut herself in there for the night.

  Anton had left her with sufficient fuel for the sitting room fire and the range. He had stacked up large quantities of wood in the porch, as well as in boxes in the scullery. He’d shown her how to bank up the fires so that they would still be in the following day. So having followed his instructions she was quite happy that her organisational skills were taking on a new dimension.

  At eight o’clock that evening she decided to go to bed, so she prepared herself a hot drink to take with her and a book to read. As she walked through the dismal hall and mounted the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel increasingly nervous. It had been touch and go all day, ever since she arrived home. The spooky atmosphere of walking into an empty house alone had already given her palpitations, and it had taken all the courage she possessed to face the oncoming apprehensions of being alone. But surely if she got through the first day
and night, the rest would be easier. Or could that be wishful thinking?

  She rushed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. She immediately locked it with the small bolt that Anton had fitted for her in order to help her feel more safe and secure, and it worked to a certain extent. She got undressed, donned her nice warm nightie and climbed into bed. She propped up the pillows having used Anton’s to give her extra support, and breathed a sigh of relief that she’d got so far. She was hoping that by reading a book she was less likely to imagine noises, and anything else which could possibly spook her. It was important not to allow her imagination to be fuelled by the fact she was now truly alone in a house which, in its present condition, would freak out the most ardent of sceptics. She closed her mind to the empty rooms above and hoped that she wouldn’t hear a single sound from any of them.

  She settled down at nine o’clock hoping to get a good night’s sleep. She was drowsy and feeling reasonably relaxed, so once she was asleep she would be dead to the world – at least that’s what she was hoping. She repositioned the pillows, put her book away, and slid under the duvet. She slipped her arm around Anton’s pillow and snuggled into it, and with the lamps left on she felt quite comfortable and safe – for the time being!

  She was just drifting into a slumber when she thought she’d heard the floorboards creaking. It sounded as if someone was walking on them, and she very quickly re-entered the land of the living. Her eyes flicked open, and she stopped breathing in order to silence the excessive thumping in her chest which she felt certain could be heard by any potential intruder. She gripped Anton’s pillow evermore tightly and listened. The creaking stopped right outside her door. She felt that she was going to be physically sick, and she struggled to breathe because her terror was so intense.