THE APPOINTMENT: A chilling ghost story of malevolence and death

by Peppi Hilton

  She read the article feverishly just in case it revealed anything, but it wasn’t about its past it was about its future. Nevertheless the amazing irony of it all was incredible. She intended to act on it immediately, just in case it proved to be immensely popular; she wouldn’t want to find they had already got sufficient members and weren’t taking on any more.

  This had to be an omen, it was meant to be – she just knew it. But she decided it was better not to tell Kelly about her intentions, it might do her more harm than good, and as Kelly hadn’t told her that it had been sold anyway, she felt she could safely presume that it was no longer of interest.

  One afternoon when Francine had arrived home early from work, she planned to have a relaxing evening with a good book. She showered after dinner and changed into her pyjamas and dressing gown, and then curled up in a chair with her chosen read. At eight thirty the phone rang and it was Kelly.

  “Hi Fran, have you had any trouble with mice or birds in your loft?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Well - I’ve been hearing quite a lot of knocking sounds and thuds coming from mine, it’s hard to say what it could be. The trouble is, it always starts when I’m in bed, which is particularly irritating.”

  “Have you been up there to investigate?”

  “No I haven’t, and to be honest I don’t really want to. There are some boxes of papers and documents up there and some old family albums, all of which belonged to my parents. It’s full of their family tree stuff as well. It’s been there since I moved in. I don’t want to see any of it.”

  “I can understand that,” Francine said reassuringly.

  “I suppose it could be birds but I don’t know how they could possibly get in. You don’t expect them in a new conversion do you?”

  “Well I suppose there could be a point of entry around the roof area. We wouldn’t know what’s going on up there.”

  “I guess so. When I think of it though, the noises do sound a bit heavy to be coming from birds. What about rats – or mice, do you think anything of that nature could get up there?”

  “I haven’t a clue Kelly. Maybe Matthew would take a look for you?”

  “I could ask him I suppose, but he does get really busy. I’ll see how it goes, maybe I won’t hear it again – I know this sounds ridiculous, but it sounds as if someone is dragging something around up there.”

  “That would be rats then,” Francine replied. “They’ll eat anything. Maybe they’re eating the boxes of papers?” she offered. “But to be honest Kelly, I have no idea how they could get up there.”

  “I suppose we could enquire if anyone else is having a problem and then report it to the management. It can’t be just me surely?”

  “You’ve got a point there and whilst I haven’t heard anything, that means nothing – I’m a heavy sleeper. Perhaps there’s a problem with the roof? That would make more sense I suppose, there could be some loose slates moving around up there. I think it would be a good idea to contact the management just in case there is a problem with it. They’ll send someone to investigate.”

  “I’ll see if it happens again, I don’t want to be bothering them if it’s unnecessary. You know what it’s like when you’re in bed, noises become exaggerated in your mind - they sound worse than what they are. Everything seems to echo in the dead of night.”

  “Yes that’s true,” Francine laughed. “We’ve all been there, especially in older houses with antiquated central heating systems, they’re the worst, and always guaranteed to start their racket in the middle of the night when our senses are on high alert. Tell you what, I’ll come and investigate for you if you have any more disturbances. We can do it together. Just let me know.”

  “Thanks Fran I will, although I’m not too concerned at the moment unless the noise continues to keep me awake. Then I will have to do something about it.”

  “I’ve just had another thought, do you think the noise could be coming from outside? There may have been some activity going on at night on the barge boats below, maybe someone having a party. And then there’s the occasional late night reveller returning to the car park, they often come from the Indian round the corner. Sounds from outside seem to travel at night time, when everything else is quiet, and sometimes it’s hard to tell where they’re coming from - particularly if you’re half asleep.”

  “I’ve kind of exhausted all those possibilities and I’ve even gone out onto the balcony to check – but everything has seemed still and quiet at the time. I take on board what you’re saying, but generally speaking it’s pretty dead around here at night.”

  “Ah well, maybe something’s been going on under that murky water, there’ll be all kinds of creatures in there which come to life at night. I wouldn’t worry too much about it Kelly, but I’m here if you need me, no matter what unearthly hour it might be – just give me a bell.”

  “I know Fran and I’m grateful, but I’m not worried about it. I just want to get a good night’s sleep that’s all.”

  “Oh, whilst you’re on the phone and before I forget. I’m thinking of going into town on my birthday in two weeks’ time, and it falls on a Friday. I’ve invited some of my friends from work and also Zak and Alex. I was thinking of the French Bistro for a meal and then on to the night club afterwards. Are you free - you can bring Matthew if you like?” asked Francine.

  ‘I’ll eat with you at the Bistro but I’m not sure about the club. I’ll have to check my diary because if I’m working the next day I can’t do a late night. As for Matthew I know he won’t be here in two weeks because he’s going to the States on business, and he expects to be gone for several months at least.”

  “Oh that’s a pity, I was hoping to meet him at last,” Francine said disappointedly.

  “I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities.”

  “So we’ll speak nearer the time huh?’

  ‘Yes, but count me in, you know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Kelly rang off and made a note on her pad to check her diary later.

  After a two week hectic schedule for Kelly, she had seen Matthew off at the airport and promised to keep in regular contact by Skype. He said he would ring when he could, and they said their goodbyes.

  Francine’s birthday was a couple of days later and all arrangements were in hand. Kelly wouldn’t be going to the club, as it was work the following morning. They both set off early together to the French Bistro, in advance of the others, to enable them to have everything organised.

  It was a familiar haunt for them, a place where they often went to meet up with mutual friends. In fact it could be considered their local hangout. Not only was it a good place to eat, it was also a trendy wine bar with an extensive choice of wines from the continent. It had a cosy atmosphere with ambient lighting and French music playing gently in the background. Casual dining was available around the bar area downstairs, whilst upstairs offered a more formal dining experience. A glass cooler was conveniently placed at the end of the bar, where a variety of salami and smoked sausages and a range of cheeses could be seen by all. It had a great holiday atmosphere and was very popular with tourists.

  Once they were happy that everything was organised, Kelly and Francine waited at the bar for everyone to arrive, whilst relaxing with a glass of wine. The invites had increased in number and they were now expecting six women and the two guys Zak and Alex. They virtually all arrived within minutes of each other, and everyone mingled at the bar whilst passing cards and presents to an overwhelmed Francine. Zak and Alex were in good form as always, and were in their element being the only two guys amongst eight women. Noise and laughter flowed freely with plenty of wine, and at eight o’clock they were shown upstairs where some tables had been put together for their party. Unbeknown to Francine, whilst they were all downstairs a helium balloon advertising the number thirty had been placed at the head of the table along with a few party poppers, which all added to the atmosphere. Zak and Ale
x started things off in good style with their party antics and vibrant personalities, and there was never a dull moment as they kept everyone in good spirits from start to finish.

  Kelly and Francine had been the best of chums with the two men for years and they were all in the same age group. Zak, a contemporary artist, owned a gallery in the centre of town where he sold his own work and that of other local artists. He was tall with long dark hair, deep brown eyes, good looking, well-built, and dressed very arty. Alex was also tall, but of lean build and he had blonde hair, blue eyes, and had very characterful features. He was a casual dresser, a man of individual style, and was often seen sporting a trilby. He was an actor, and after a few cameo roles in a number of films, he had landed a major role in one of the nation’s best loved soaps. Now in his fifth month with the series, he had exceeded his original expectations of a three month contract – it was well-deserved and everyone was thrilled for him. Always the joker, he kept everyone laughing jovially at his clever repartees, and impressive imitations of many well-known celebrities. He and Zak had been good friends ever since they’d met at their first rugby training session for Skipton Juniors, which had continued into their adult life. Both enjoyed their popularity with girls, but had remained good chums platonically with Kelly and Francine. If either of the two women found themselves in need of an escort to some function or other, Zak and Alex always obliged - providing they were free, and if any of them found themselves at a loose end, or feeling low, they were all there for each other.

  After the main courses Alex disappeared from the table and was gone for quite some time. He reappeared as a town crier, brandishing a scroll in his hand. He stood next to Francine, unrolled the metre length scroll and began with, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!” Everything went suddenly very quiet as everyone gave him their undivided attention. He ordered Francine to stand at his side and she obeyed in a fit of giggles. Everyone waited in anticipation as he began to read aloud all of Francine’s little secrets which had been written onto the scroll in humorous rhyming verse, and at each punchline a roar came from the entire room. No-one noticed Zak disappear from the scene, and as Alex directed everyone to sing happy birthday, the lights dimmed and Zak reappeared carrying a birthday cake topped with thirty flickering candles. Everyone cheered Francine on as she took a deep breath and blew them all out in one.

  There was no doubt that the evening had gone off in full swing and everyone was feeling the effects of the wine. By the time they were ready to leave to go to the Club, they were all feeling a little light-headed. All except Kelly who had to insist on going home due to work the next day, even though they all tried to coax her into going with them.

  “Sorry everybody, but I’ve got work in the morning,” Kelly apologised.

  “Are you sure you can’t just come for an hour?” Francine pleaded - the effects of the alcohol showing clearly in her speech.

  “I’m sorry to be a party poop Fran, but I can’t risk it honestly. I’ve already drank more than I intended, but it was worth it,” Kelly replied sincerely as she gave her a hug. “I hope you have a wonderful time - but don’t forget to have a drink on me.”

  There were lots of hugs and kisses before Kelly left them all to wend their merry way to the local night-club in town, and she walked in the opposite direction back to her apartment. She was glad of the fresh air, which she hoped would revive her a little by the time she got home.

  Kelly arrived back at her apartment a little after eleven-thirty. She stood at the door whilst rummaging in her bag for her keys, and as always the darned things had dropped to the very bottom. She finally pulled out a large chunky ring which contained all the keys she possessed, including her car keys. She let herself in. Once inside the hall she kicked off her platform shoes, breathed a sigh of relief, and flicked on the light-switch. Nothing happened, so she switched it on and off a few times.

  “Drat!” she muttered to herself, as she realised the bulb must have gone and had fused all the lights. More annoyingly, it meant that she had to grope her way down the dark hallway in order to get to the kitchen where the fuse-box was situated. She placed her bag on the floor, fumbled her way through the dark, and managed to stub her big toe on a piece of furniture which caused her to wince and blaspheme. She stopped to massage it, and at that moment her senses became aware of an unusual chill about the place. Her heating should have been on for at least a couple of hours, and as the apartment was well insulated in accordance with to-day’s stringent regulations, the heat was always well retained. Perhaps she’d left a window open? But as the night air was cool and not freezing, that was an unlikely scenario. She leaned back against the wall, still holding her foot in her hand whilst trying to twiddle her toe better. There was a strange silence, and a stillness which was unfamiliar to her. And for a moment she could have almost believed that she had walked into someone else’s apartment. It was weird. Her breathing seemed louder than normal, and she could hear her heartbeat. She instinctively knew there was something wrong. The usual humming of the fridge couldn’t be heard in the background, and she knew only too well that the lights having fused had nothing to do with the electrical sockets, therefore her kitchen appliances should still be running. It could mean only one thing - there had been a power cut. But the thought quickly vanished again, as she knew without doubt that all the lights were working along the whole complex. She hobbled back to the door and opened it just to make sure - and yes they were all still on, so she stepped back inside.

  She stood still, held her breath, and listened. Even the throbbing of her toe had vanished from her senses, as she waited in anticipation. She wasn’t sure why she was listening to silence, or what she was waiting for. And then she was overcome by the horrible feeling that she wasn’t alone. Her heart began to pound, slowly at first before building up to a fierce throbbing against the wall of her chest – it was painful, and the sound was magnified tenfold as she stood rigid, waiting and waiting. Her mouth became dry and parched, and her breathing hardly noticeable against the sound of her heartbeat. She couldn’t move, as her senses continued to convince her that someone else was in her home. She was scared. There were two options in front of her, either run for it – she was close to the door - or confront the intruder, or intruders, whichever it may be. But the latter did not appeal to her. She took deep breaths to calm herself - she needed to think rationally. She hadn’t heard anything, or anyone, and that was the point, she was judging only from her instincts. What was she thinking of? Was she allowing her imagination to run out of control again? But she still remained there, as stiff as a beanpole.

  Kelly was not normally subjected to these wild, speculative, imaginary scenarios which gave birth out of fear. She was normally always in control, unless faced with real danger. There was no danger, there was no intruder, and there was nothing to fear except her own foolish delusions. It must have been the wine. Fresh air mixed with large quantities of alcohol, does not make a sensible cocktail, and therefore she could only conclude that the walk home had contributed to her current state of mind. All she had to do was make her way to the kitchen and the fuse-box and switch the lights back on. Even her eyes had now become accustomed to the dark, and so it didn’t seem half so bad. But something was holding her back, stopping her from venturing further down the hall. Her mind had been invaded by a stronger force than that which was normally inside her head, and it just wouldn’t let go. Common sense seemed to be playing no part in her irrational way of thinking. There was simply no explanation why an imaginary instinct, should give rise to such fear that would override her common sense and break it down. It was completely out of character, and her foolish thoughts had no more gravitas than a fictional horror story. And with that thought in mind, she pulled herself together, dropped her keys on the side table allowing them to clink heavily as they fell, and marched purposefully down the hall towards the kitchen - her toe seemingly having lost any sensation at all.

  Kelly’s apartment had the same layout
as Francine’s. The kitchen diner was open-plan, and French doors opened out onto a balcony which had views across the rooftops, as well as down to the picturesque canal below. Barges were moored of an evening as their occupants settled in for the night, and when the balcony doors were open a gentle swishing of water could be heard, but when they were closed all was peaceful and quiet. As she reached the kitchen, the reflection of lights from the waterfront danced about on her walls as the barges bobbed to and fro on the water. Overhead lights from reproduced gas lamps were strategically placed along the walkways which bordered the canal, and tourists and locals alike walked their dogs, or strolled along with their fish and chip suppers. Others simply sat on the benches to browse at the scenery and watch the passers-by. To-night was one of those peaceful and quiet nights - but Kelly’s peace was about to be shattered.

  In a matter of seconds she would be at the fuse-box, and with just one flick of a switch the lights would be back on. But it wasn’t to be. She stumbled when she got to the dark corner where the cupboard was situated, so she reached for a torch from a shelf. It was at that moment she felt a presence, and she spun round. He was standing with his back to the French doors and as Kelly attempted to scream, her throat seemed to close up and there was no sound. She was rigid with fear, and her heart began to pound mercilessly. Before her terrified eyes was the sinister man from The Grange, staring back at her startled form. His gaunt white face was instantly recognisable, as was the faded black butler’s uniform hanging loosely on the frame which hardly bore any remnants of human flesh. His luminous eyes seemed to sear into her mind as they transfixed hers, rooting her to the spot. Cowering behind him was the terrified face of the lifeless girl, whom she had previously seen in the bed chamber as she lay dead.