The Ghost in the Window (Haunted House Book 1)

by Ayse Hafiza

  She had a lilted half smile on her face.

  Frank had come home to take care of his mom. Instead, as he had got to know the real woman who bore him, he realized that she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. Where she was concerned his eyes were open, he had spent his entire life believing he was weird when in fact he had inherited more from his mom than he ever could have known. Why hadn’t she spoken to him? Instead, she let him live in the belief that he was strange. And he resented her for it. She kept secrets too, and anger bubbled under his skin. He had come home to look after her, but somehow he was broken. He needed to get away before he turned into his father. Part of being in love was letting go, he glanced back at the covered canvas. And whispered his silent goodbye. This self-defensive line of thought included his mom, as he decided to return to the commune where he lived.

  8

  A New Family

  The house was emptied, and George’s possessions donated to charity. Not that the old man had very much, he had killed himself wearing his best suit which had given the undertakers one job less. Frank wasn’t interested in helping his mom get rid of the spirit of her husband. If George wanted to hang around in the garage, there was no need for Frank to get involved in their marital affairs.

  Frank concentrated on emptying the house of his parents’ possessions. All apart from the mirror which stayed in the attic next to the water tank. His mom was a different woman when she wasn’t under the shadow of her husband, and Frank like his dad had come to judge her, knowing that she wasn’t as innocent as he had thought. His mom was no one's victim, but that meant he wasn’t going to take on the responsibility of her.

  He wasn’t going to stay and live with his mom. He knew that was what she expected, but the cracks in his relationship with her were real. Why had she never told him about the mirror? Why did she stay with his father? Why did she choose to make him sad? Mom had created a monster.

  Hadn’t she realized the consequences of each bad decision? Frank was like his father, he wanted to punish her too. A month later he announced his plans as they ate in George’s room in front of the television.

  “I need to go soon,” said Frank.

  “Go? Go where? You can’t go, Janes still in the mirror in the attic.”

  “Yes, I know she is and there’s no way to rescue her. And you. . .well, you’ve proven that you can manage just fine.”

  She couldn’t have missed the edge of malice in his words.

  Lizzy put her toast down and looked at her son.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Frank nodded, he had waited a long time to hear those words from her. He envied the baby girl she had lost, wishing he had never been born into this dysfunctional family.

  “I’ve found you an old people’s home, you’ll have your own room and with the pension and insurance payouts you’ll be able to live comfortably,” announced Frank.

  “And you? Where will you go?”

  “Back to where I was,” he lied. He knew he was going to Salem in Wales, and if not there he would pursue the origins of the magic mirror back to his family roots and home in Scotland.

  “Can I ask when all this is going to happen?” asked Lizzy.

  “As soon as we’ve found a buyer for this house,” announced Frank.

  “And I don’t get a say?” asked Lizzy.

  “You want a say? Well, you don’t speak when you are supposed to, and now you want a say?”

  The scorn and accusation were there again.

  “You can leave if you want. Leave me in this house alone with him,” said Lizzy pointing out of the window.

  “I have no doubt that you’d be just fine here Mom,” said Frank.

  Lizzy looked at her plate, she was back in her cage again, but she knew it wasn’t Frank who put her there, this time it was her own decisions that had caused the guilded barriers to rise and swallow her space. They sat in silence watching the family game show on television. She wanted to change his mind, but she knew that even as his mom she couldn’t lean on him to stay if he didn’t want to.

  The estate agent was called later that week, prompting Lizzy to begin disposing of her belongings. Who was she kidding? She was fast on George’s tail toward a grave. She couldn’t hold her son back, that would have been unfair. So, reluctantly Lizzy went along with his plans.

  The house was priced for sale and soon enough the day came for Lizzy to move, with just two suitcases mainly of her clothes and a box of her papers which included the letters from Arthur, she left the house. She turned to look at the brick facade, the small rose bushes in the garden and the crack in the front wall. George had always said that Frank would sell the house the first opportunity he got, and she was living to see his predictions become a reality. She left, occasionally looking back at the house watching it grow smaller from the back window of the taxi as it took her toward her new home.

  Lizzy was full of regret, but George wasn’t the focus of her upset, it was Frank. How had she managed to mess up so badly where he was concerned? He didn’t respect her anymore. She hadn’t known her son was capable of a love that could inspire the coldest hate she had ever experienced from him. ‘He had only known the woman for two minutes,’ she reasoned to herself.

  Frank stood in the loft of the empty house looking at the canvas that covered the mirror. He didn’t want to pull it off, he knew if he did he would sit down and stare into it trying his hardest to catch a glimpse of her.

  He couldn’t spend his life like this, cursed or not. He needed to move on.

  Turning his back on the mirror he climbed down the ladder. He closed the hatch and walked into his mom’s now empty room. Walking toward the back window, he could see the faint outline of his father’s ghost still standing at the window in the garage. Frank hadn’t bothered to empty the garage, he didn’t want to go into it. The estate agent went in and checked it out himself. Besides, the new owners would get the contents as a gift from his dysfunctional family.

  “Goodbye Dad,” Frank said at the window to his father’s essence.

  His father didn’t flinch.

  Frank stepped away from the window. He was going to put this house behind him. It had never really been home, and that was reinforced at the discovery of his beliefs being lies. Sick of being deceived, tired and beat down by the evil that the house held. Frank was drowning, and he needed to get away and breathe again. He had promised his mom that he would take the mirror, but he had no intention of it. He didn’t want to be haunted by a love that he lost.

  He walked downstairs and looked at the clean patch on the wallpaper where the mirror had hung. He stopped for a second, it was then Frank made a promise to himself. He wasn’t going to grow into being his dad or his mom. He wasn’t and wouldn’t be like them. That was the beauty of being a shaman, he had a keen understanding of the distinctions between the living and the dead. Frank just needed to put his trust into his guiding spirits, they would be able to keep him safe from the toxic nature of his past. Frank had one last look around all the rooms before finally walking out into the waning sun in the front garden.

  The estate agent stepped out of his car and met Frank.

  “Mr. Blades.”

  “Mr. Sullivan,” nodded Frank in the estate agent’s direction.

  “Are you sorry to see it go?” asked the agent.

  “We all just need to move on,” Frank announced matter of factly.

  The agent would have no idea how true that statement was.

  “Well, I have had a lot of interest in this one. Would you mind if I sold the property to a colored family? Or Irish?” asked the estate agent.

  Frank nodded remembering the racial divides between the English, Irish, Pakistanis and Caribbean’s. He wished he could tell the small-minded racists that all their spirits were the same.

  “No problem just get it sold,” said Frank handing across the keys. Mr Sullivan walked into the house.

  Frank stepped outside the gate and pulled the metal of it
closed. The click sounded reassuring although nothing familiar was reassuring, not anymore. He looked up at the point of the attic, passed the wall and saw the mirror in his mind still with canvas over it. Was he running away from destiny? He knew his mom thought as much. Or was he going to shape his own destiny and not be held by the curse that afflicted generation of his ancestors?

  “Goodbye Jane,” Frank muttered under his breath. “If my mom’s prophecy is right. You’ll find me.”

  He turned from the place he once called home and walked along the short road toward the bus stop. Each step gave him a sense of lightness, he already felt better by the time he reached the end of the road. It was over, he was free of the chains of his parents’ marriage and the misgivings that he had labored with.

  A month later a silver metallic painted Datsun turned on its indicator and drove along the street. The driver was cautious to avoid the children who were outside playing with balls. It drove slowly and then parked outside the house with the cracked wall. Rashid, a young man with dark black hair and an excited expression stepped out of the car. He rushed round to the other side of the car and opened the door helping his pregnant wife out of the passenger seat. They stood together holding hands as they looked at the house. She rested her hand on the top of her heavily pregnant stomach.

  Putting his arm around her he whispered, “Welcome home Kawser.”

  His wife turned to face him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, they didn’t want to get judged by their new neighbors as being any less conservative. They were keenly aware they were a new Pakistani family in the area, and the twitching net curtains of their neighbors told them they were being watched.

  Rashid closed his wife’s car door and maneuvered them along the street as he opened the metal gate. They stepped onto the path of the house, which was dressed in small rose bushes on both sides. The front door was a pale yellow with glass insets, and a curtain covering it from the inside. He slid the key into the lock and after a slight twist of the wrist it unlocked, he pushed the door wide open. Stepping to one side, deferring the gift of taking the first step into the house to Kawser. After all, she was stepping for two.

  He followed her inside closing the door after himself. Taking her in his arms, he held her close and kissed her now they were in private.

  Then they walked into each room holding hands as the discovered the home that would be their nest.

  “Rashid are you sure we can afford this?” asked Kawser.

  “Yes, my love. It’s because my company gave me an affordable mortgage,” said Rashid with a huge smile on his face.

  Kawser fell into his arms, they had been living in a single bedroom flat, and now they had their own house with two gardens one at the front and one at the back. It was a dream come true and more than she could have ever imagined. She was grateful beyond measure.

  “We’re going to fill this house with love and happy memories,” promised Kawser as she spoke out loud.

  Rashid was happy she liked it, but then he remembered why the house had come onto the market, not that he had told Kawser. It was perfectly commutable to London, had good schools in the local area, and they had some friends nearby. So, it was just too good to walk away from, that was the reason Rashid hadn’t asked the estate agent more about the gentlemen who had passed away. Not that Mr. Sullivan the agent appeared eager to give any details.

  They explored their new home together, apart from the attic. When Rashid went up into the dusty space, he noticed the canvas in the corner and pulled it off to uncover the mirror. It made him shiver and he told himself that he needed to call Mr. Sullivan and inform him the previous owner had left some belongings. Although he gathered that the owner wasn’t too concerned when he opened the garage door and saw the gardening tools.

  A dirty white cord was tied around one of the rafters. Rashid thought nothing of it, believing the owner had tied up some tools. It didn’t concern him, Rashid was just happy that he managed to get an amazing house for the price. A place to lay down roots and let his family grow.

  It wasn’t soon after that his wife gave birth to their first child, a young healthy girl they called Laila. Love and happiness entered the house which kept all the negative energies at bay.

  Little baby Laila was their first child, and after a few years, she was followed by Idris, a son. Rashid thought his family was complete until by accident his wife fell pregnant again. The third child, also a daughter, they called her Saima and she brought additional happiness into their lives. Rashid was happy, he had what he finally wanted a family and a safe and loving home in which to raise his growing brood.

  Nothing would limit his ability to love his family. He felt so very blessed.

  9

  Lizzy comes home

  Flakes of snow fell outside. Lizzy watched each one as it danced in the breeze from her window. The Earth was experiencing a new beginning, wasn’t that what happened whenever the world passed through seasons? The snow of winter purified the earth and April showers washed the land. She wondered if like the Earth she was experiencing the same thing by dying. She had moved from the old peoples’ home to a hospice. She preferred the hospice at least the people here were determined to enjoy their last days on the Earth.

  She had made peace with everything in her life, but Frank.

  All Lizzy wanted to do was build bridges with Frank, since they had lived together after George’s death she realized how wrong she had been. She chided herself, she should have warned Frank about their magical bloodline and about his heritage. She wished that she had warned Frank about the mirror and the curse that afflicted him. She knew that he held her responsible. Lizzy had hated her own Mom for quite a few years after Arthur had been taken by it too.

  Lizzy, in her dying days, was aware that she’d let him down, and more than anything she wanted to make it right. Frank hadn’t been to see her, yet he knew where she was. The nurses would say that he’d phoned. He would call once a week, but never wanted to speak with her, and that hurt. Lizzy decided that she would communicate with him the only way she knew she could, even if that meant it was one way.

  My Darling Frank,

  I know you don’t want to see me or even hear from me. And I cry every day that my actions alone have broken the trust between us.

  I should have sat you down and told you everything. Would you have believed me? I doubt it, but then at least you would have known. Whether you wrote it off as a fantastical tale of make-believe or whether you knew something of your ancestry.

  My darling you must believe that I wanted to protect you, and yes, I may have been misguided. The only thing that I can ask for is your forgiveness? Please my darling if you can find it in your heart forgive me.

  If I had known about Jane, I would have sent you both far away, and I see now that my actions alone have done just that. Sent you far far away from me.

  Your loving mother

  Elizabeth

  The letter was written and placed on the side table. She had a million other things that she wanted to say, but all those uttered words that she spoke to the silence in her bedroom were really only one confession. That she loved Frank. Lizzy haunted herself by playing their month alone together over in her mind. How she should have taken him to the side and offered him some real help, rather than ask him to concentrate on moving George along.

  Lizzy knew just how useless it was to question why the mirror claimed the people they loved. Elizabeth had threatened then begged her mom for answers after the mirror consumed Arthur. It was one of the reasons she had purposefully lost her unborn daughter, she didn’t want to put her through the trauma. Although when she became pregnant with Frank, she couldn’t do it again, she hadn’t the heart. Lizzy thought she would lose her fragile grasp on reality if she had tried to kill her second child. As the pregnancy continued part of her felt that it was destiny for her to become a mom.

  But a boy, she hadn’t known when they checked her with a Pinard Horn, they told her he had a
strong heartbeat. Even that made her feel guilty, the idea that killing him was robbing a life. Then they told her from the shape of her tummy that it was a boy. Although Lizzy didn’t dare to believe them. Could a boy carry the curse, she didn’t think so? Lizzy fantasized about what it would have meant to end the curse. But what had happened? Frank had turned out to be a shaman and a witch, and so maybe gender wasn’t important. The problem with analyzing the past was that there was very little she could do to help him heal, other than say she was sorry.

  In her white floor length cotton night dress with a frill around the neck, she turned away from the window. She was very close to crossing the veil into the other world. If she couldn’t get his forgiveness in her life, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she had asked for it. Any decision after that would be his alone.

  Lizzy moved the multiple bedsheets and climbed into bed. Settling herself, she lay her plait to the side of her head as she looked up at the ceiling. Her dreams had become more vivid, and she had a sense of the escape that death would provide, and for that reason she was looking forward to it. After all, Lizzy had entered the world alone, what did it matter if she was going to leave it alone? That’s what she told herself, but her heart was more than a little broken.

  That night the Angel of Death visited Lizzy, she knew he was coming, she had known all her life. He came and touched her forehead and with that touch, her body expelled the spirit that dwelled in it. Lizzy was finally free, free to live her existence. Free of all the mental bonds that had kept her. Lizzy, with her eyes wide open, walked toward the door of her bedroom in the hospice. The look on her own now lifeless face peaceful, and that was because she had made peace with her life.