A House in the Country: A Tale of Psychological Horror

by Matt Shaw

  “What CDs?” Jess asked.

  “There’s a box in the spare room - been emptied out onto the floor. The girls were standing in the doorway, looking in, so I thought it was them but neither one admitted to it. Did you go in there?”

  Jess shook her head as she put a saucepan into the cupboard, “I’ve been sorting out the kitchen,” she said as she put a frying pan up into the same cupboard. “Nearly done too!” she pointed out.

  “Well if it wasn’t you and it wasn’t them…”

  “It probably was one of them. You know they’ll say anything to get themselves out of trouble.”

  “I guess.”

  Jess sensed her husband seemed a little apprehensive about something, “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Last night…Never mind.” Dean stopped talking. After the conversation they had had, before going to sleep, he thought it best not to mention anything to do with what Sophie thought she saw during the night.

  “No. You don’t do that,” Jess told him. “Last night - what?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  “Tell me!”

  He sighed when he realised Jess wasn’t going to let it go, “Sophie said she saw someone standing in her doorway. Said they disappeared into the spare room. That’s why she was crying during the night - it scared her.”

  “What?” Jess seemed alarmed. The funny smell in the room had reminded her of what’d happened in the room and she was already on edge about it. The thought of her daughter seeing things - especially things disappearing into the same room - just made her that little bit more nervous.

  “It’s fine,” Dean reassured her, “I told her she was probably still dreaming. It’s just a coincidence.”

  “That’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Honey, it’s fine. I promise. Have you never woken up before now and been in a confused state between awake and dreaming?”

  “Funnily enough - no.”

  Dean sighed again. “It’s fine.”

  “Stop saying it’s fine. Our daughter saw someone in the house last night. Someone who supposedly died here when they took their own life.”

  “No. Our daughter thought she saw a person here. She didn’t say whether it was male or female because she couldn’t see them properly. Besides - for all we know it could have been Caroline looking for the toilet. Got up in the middle of the night, got confused and wandered into the spare room. Remember that time, in our last flat, when I…”

  “Did you ask Caroline?” Jess interrupted him. “Did you ask her whether she got up during the night?”

  Dean felt a temptation to lie; a little white lie to rest his wife’s nervous mind. He resisted, “No. I haven’t spoken to her.”

  “Maybe we should get someone to come by and give the house a blessing,” Jess’ mind drifted.

  “I’m sorry - what? Someone to give the house a blessing? Seriously?”

  “You know, like an exorcist.”

  “An exorcist? Do they even really exist?”

  “Our daughter thinks she is seeing ghosts - what harm will it do?”

  “A lot when we have to explain to the children why we have some fucking nut walking around chanting whatever they chant in each of our rooms. Look - it was a dream. She thought she was awake but she was clearly still dreaming. You know what she’s like with her dreams. And the smell - I was just in the room - it’s damp. Nothing more and nothing less. It will go. I opened the window again…”

  “The window was open. I opened it last night.” Jess looked alarmed again.

  Dean was quick to stop that conversation from spiralling into anything more to do with restless spirits, “Then one of the girls must have closed it when they were going through the boxes…Jesus - I wish I had never said anything about any of it. This is ridiculous.”

  “Oh so now I’m being ridiculous?” Jess snapped at her suffering husband. Clearly she was still tired from the previous day’s move and unpacking. They both were.

  Dean looked at her, “I didn’t say you were ridiculous. I said THIS was ridiculous. We’re supposed to be enjoying our new home together - you know, making happy memories - and instead we’re talking about the possibility of ghosts and calling in the ghostbusters. It’s stupid. We’re both tired, both irritable - let’s just…Let’s just start the morning again.” To emphasise his point he walked from the room before turning back in again, “Good morning, sexy lady…How did you sleep last night?” he gave her a cheeky wink and a smile.

  “Funny you should ask, darling, but I had a somewhat restless night. What with the ghosts and all…”

  Dean sighed.

  * * * * *

  Jess had been unpacking the kitchen for the whole morning - more specifically putting the things away in their new homes dotted throughout the various cupboards, having done the actual unpacking the previous day. Dean had left her to it and concentrated on making the living room more of a ‘homely’ environment by clearing the boxes away - giving them all somewhere pleasant to rest at the end of another day of clearing up; it was hard to rest in a room when you were surrounded by boxes of all shapes and sizes which you knew needed to be put away at some point. At least this way they could come into the room and put their feet up after closing the door to the rest of the mess. Out of sight out of mind - which is exactly what the children were. They had come downstairs and started playing amongst the boxes, after breakfast, but Dean sent them up to their bedrooms to play out of the way. All the time he was trying to move around them, he couldn’t help but think they’d missed a trick by moving with the girls still quite young. Had he waited a few more years until they were grumpy teenagers he could have trusted them to help unpack the boxes without damaging any of the contents.

  Jess walked into the living room, “How are you doing in here?” she asked. She looked around the room. Nearly all of the boxes were gone - but she expected as much considering a fair few of them had been stacked outside of the living room, in the hallway. Most things were sitting around on the shelving units.

  “Nearly done,” he said.

  “You’re actually putting things up on display already?” Jess asked. Dean fired her a look. He was tired and irritable from the second night’s broken sleep in a row and already knew where she was going with her sentences. “I hadn’t cleaned them yet,” she reminded him. And there it was. Just as he expected.

  “There’s no point in cleaning before we unpack everything,” he told her.

  “Everything is dusty though,” and it was. The shelves had a thin layer of dust on them which matched the cupboards in the kitchen - which she was disinfecting prior to loading up with various appliances.

  “And the more we unpack, the more mess we will make. We can blitz everywhere when everything is in its rightful place,” he told her. “Otherwise we’ll spend loads of time cleaning now and then more time cleaning when we’re done.” What Dean suggested made sense to him but he knew it would annoy the hell out of Jess who liked everything to be just so. He was more interested in unpacking as quickly as possible, though, to ensure he had at least a couple of days in which to relax before going back to the office. Jess was just looking at him. They both knew, as soon as his back was turned, she was going to dust the shelves down and give the carpet a hoover.

  Jess changed the subject, “What’s going on with the boxes out here?” she asked.

  “More old records. We never listen to them so I was going to put them in the loft until we do a car boot sale, or something.”

  “A car boot sale? You?”

  “Okay - until we eBay them,” he admitted. Neither of them knew of a time where they’d ever done, or visited, a car boot sale. “I just don’t think we need them cluttering the room.” To his surprise, Jess nodded in agreement. The way the day was shaping up - he was sure she was going to argue with him about that too. When people say moving was stressful they were wrong, Dean realised that now. It wasn’t the move that was stressful but rather the fray
ed tempers of the tired individuals clashing over the silly little things (such as dusting before you have completely finished unpacking). “I’m more or less done in here,” he said, “so I’ll take them upstairs now to get them out of the way. Probably stick them in the loft tomorrow, or something.”

  Jess nodded again, “In that case - I’ll probably just give this room a quick clean…”

  Dean rolled his eyes.

  Night Two

  Despite the moving boxes and general mess, the house had a different vibe about it during the lighter hours. It seemed homely, warm and welcoming. But by nightfall it seemed to change. Everything became darker and not just in general lighting conditions but (and it’s hard to explain) the feeling of the home. The mood seemed to blacken as the shadows slowly crept across the rooms with the sinking sun, both Dean and Jess had noticed it though neither would admit it to the other. They both snuggled down under the thick duvet. Both shattered from another hard day of unpacking and lugging furniture around. On the plus side most of the unpacking had been completed now and the house was - slowly - starting to look like a proper home to be proud of. The spare room still needed to be set up and the boxes, filled with the goods not needed, had been moved to the top of the landing, just underneath the hatchway to the loft, ready to be put amongst the rafters the following morning.

  “Can we never move house again?” Jess breathed heavily as she laid her head back on the soft pillow. “I’m so tired.” She closed her eyes. “So tired.” She didn’t need to say as much. Dean knew she was tired from the way she had snapped at him throughout the day. She fidgeted onto her side and cuddled up against Dean who was lying on his back - staring at the ceiling. “I’m sorry if I was horrible to you today.”

  “You were fine,” Dean lied. There was no sense in starting a fight with her when he wanted to go to sleep. He knew she wasn’t snapping at him because she didn't love him or because she was angry with him. She was just exhausted - emphasised by the fact she was already breathing heavily; a sign she was about to fall asleep, if not already dreaming. Dean couldn’t help but think of Sophie in the other room though, wondering whether he’d have another disturbed night’s sleep. He hoped not. Just one night of unbroken sleep. That’s all he wanted. One night. He felt his eyelids grow heavy.

  Despite the family sleeping off their busy day, the house didn’t fall silent. Water pipes from the attic space banged together; caused by a worn seal on a faucet valve. The television, recently unwrapped from a bundle of blankets in the living room, occasionally creaked for no reason. A dripping noise constantly tapped the sink in the kitchen - another issue with a faulty seal which would be easily fixed when the family had the time to do so. Worst of the noises though was the one which started half way through the night when the family was in a deep sleep. The sound of the floorboards creaking underfoot and then…

  3:30am

  The sound of the door to the spare room closing and - finally - the sound of deafening silence.

  Day Three

  Jess opened her eyes and blinked the early morning fog from her vision. A loud banging, which seemed to come in threes, had awoken her. She sat up; at first unsure whether she had even heard it or whether she’d imagined it. When the banging echoed through the house another three times she jumped from the bed and hurried to the door to see what on earth was going on. Dean was standing on a two-step ladder underneath the loft hatch - a broom in his hands. He reached up and used the end of the broom to hit the loft hatch another three times. His two daughters standing next to him, watching intently.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jess asked. It hadn’t been the best way to wake up in all honesty.

  Dean stopped what he was doing and looked across to where she was standing, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “Did you wake me? It’s echoing through the whole house!” Jess said. She didn’t believe Dean didn’t realise the noise he was making and didn’t wait for another apology. She turned back into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

  “Whoops! Looks like daddy is in trouble, girls!” Dean laughed.

  They didn’t care. Both of them were completely fixated by the hatch to the attic. “Hurry up and open it, daddy!” Caroline moaned, eager to see what was in the attic even though Dean had told her it was most likely empty and - more importantly - she wasn’t going up there regardless. Dean gave the hatch another three, solid hits with the broom.

  “It won’t open,” he told her, “it’s stuck fast.” He jumped down from the steps and threw the broom onto the floor. “Shit!” he said under his breath.

  “Daddy!” Sophie berated him for his bad language but he didn’t pay any attention. He was frustrated by the stuck hatch.

  He walked through to the bedroom where Jess had climbed back into bed. He stood at the foot of the bed until she looked at him, “Thanks for waking me up,” she told him again.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” He hesitated. “I’m trying to get the stuff put away. So we can relax…”

  “I was relaxing. I was asleep!”

  Dean continued, “Damned thing won’t budge. Should have asked the estate agent to let us see up there before signing anything.”

  “It’s stuck?”

  “I’ve been hitting the hatch…”

  “I heard.”

  “….and it won’t even give a little. It’s either stuck or something has fallen on top of it. Something heavy. God only knows how I’m going to get up there,” he sat on the edge of the bed. “Fucking annoying.”

  Jess sat up. Clearly she wasn’t going back to sleep. “What are you going to do?”

  “Have to buy a ladder.”

  “I thought the estate agent said there was a ladder in the loft - one which came down when you opened the hatch?”

  “Yep. But how do you propose I get to it if I can’t open the hatch? Need to get up there so I can try and put more weight against it and - to do that - I need a longer ladder. Those steps are good for changing lightbulbs and that’s about it,” he moaned. “Means I can’t put the boxes away just yet. Probably be a couple of days.”

  “It’s fine but promise me one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “When you do put the boxes up there, can you at least wait until I am awake?”

  Dean smiled at her, “Can’t make any promises. And - I know you won’t believe me - I was trying to be quiet. I wanted it all done before you woke up. Clearly I’m a failure.”

  “Hmmm, I still love you though.”

  “Yeah but I love you more. Hence I was trying to do something nice for you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “What you think you love me more?” he asked, a cheeky grin on his face. “Prove it!”

  Jess raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. She knew what he was hinting towards. “You’d better shut the door then,” she nodded towards the bedroom door, “don’t want the kids coming in.”

  “Well I’m not sure what you’re thinking but,” he laughed, “I was after a bacon sandwich.” Jess opened her mouth - an over exaggerated gesture to show her shock at having her advances turned down. Dean laughed again as she gave him a playful hit on the arm. “And can you make it crispy, please?”

  “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed.

  Sophie called from the doorway, “Mummy! You’re not allowed to swear!”

  “Yeah, mummy, you’re not allowed to swear!” Dean laughed again. “No wonder we’re raising little monkeys. Practically dragging them up!” He jumped back when Jess took another playful swing at his arm.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to her daughter, despite the smile on her face showing she wasn’t actually sorry at all. “Anyway he called you a monkey! Doesn’t he get in trouble?”

  “I’m hungry!” Sophie changed the subject; her voice having gone from stern to whiney within the blink of an eye.

  “Yeah, mummy, she’s hungry. She wants bacon too, don’t you sweetie?” D
ean adopted the same tone of whiney voice as his daughter. He looked at her, having asked the question, and she nodded.

  “I swear I’m going to beat you black and blue,” Jess laughed.

  “Did you hear that? Your mummy wants to hurt me!” Dean tried to get Sophie on side.

  “Can you do it after you’ve made me breakfast?” Sophie asked. Jess laughed. Clearly breakfast was more important than her father’s health.

  A bang from the landing made all of them jump. Dean was first out of the bedroom (despite Sophie being closest). Caroline was standing on the small step ladder and attempting to copy what her father had been doing.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. “Get down from there!” She wasn’t that high up - where she was standing on the step - but, by the time you factored in the fact it was more than possible to fall over the bannister from where she was, it was enough to panic a parent. Caroline got down from the step ladder.

  “I was trying to help!” she argued - she started to cry; the sound of her father’s harsh voice startled her.

  Dean picked the step ladder up and walked through to the spare room with it where he dumped it against the far wall. Jess walked in after him. “She was trying to help, you can’t be angry with her for copying what you were doing.” She paused, “Jesus - it still stinks in here. You still think that’s just damp?”

  Dean sighed. “How’s about we go for a walk?” he suggested.

  “What?”

  He called out to the girls, on the landing, “Who wants to grab some breakfast and then go exploring outside?”

  Sophie cheered at the suggestion - as did her sister, albeit a little quieter.

  Dean turned to Jess, “Let’s take a break today. We’re doing well with the unpacking. Let’s just go for a walk and take a look around the place. I’ll pop to town tomorrow and get a ladder. We’ve worked hard these past couple of days, I think a few hours off will do us good.” They’d seen the front of the house when they came to look around it, before making their purchase, but they’d never actually taken the time to look around out back; certainly no further than seeing that it backed onto fields and trees anyway. Jess nodded - happy to go along with his plan. He smiled. Not only did he get out of doing some more work but he also successfully avoided any further conversation about the lingering stench in the room.