The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  She called Josh daily, her anxiety spilling over to worry about his welfare. Was he being careful? What was his roommate like? He wasn’t drinking and partying, was he? It was hard to define, but Elizabeth felt certain that all was not well with Josh.

  She heard the growing exasperation in his voice as he assured her he was fine, she didn’t need to keep ringing him. He had no idea what a feat of self-discipline she exercised to call him only once a day, her relief at hearing he was okay lasting no more than minutes after she put down the phone.

  By Thursday she was drained and tired, but the thought that Daniel would be home the next day rallied her spirits.

  She climbed into bed that night rehearsing the tasks she wanted to complete before his arrival. She would go to the supermarket, she thought, buy something special for dinner; perhaps with two of them there she’d want to eat. She was making a shopping list in her head as she drifted off to sleep.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth woke with a start, cold sweat bathing her brow once more. She lay on her back in the dark, every muscle taut, waiting for the evidence of what she already knew…

  She wasn’t alone. A pale moon cast its light into the bedroom, dipping the silhouettes of the furniture in silver. She wouldn’t move – perhaps if she didn’t move, whoever was there would think she was still asleep and go away. Her eyes darted from left to right, searching the shadows.

  There was no-one there.

  She remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe. I’ll count to ten. I’ll count to ten and nothing will happen, and I’ll know it’s all in my head.

  She’d got to three when the sobbing began.

  Chapter Three

  Elizabeth had been waiting for hours. Daniel would be home today and the time wouldn’t go fast enough. She’d been watching from the window until she saw his car coming up the drive. Flinging open the door she’d wanted to run to him, but seeing Daniel hop out and slam the door behind him, his navy suit, his collar undone and his coat draped over the arm that held his briefcase, there was something so normal about him that it stopped her in her tracks.

  How could she tell him what had happened? How could she begin to explain? He’d called his usual cheery greeting as he walked toward her, but stopped short as he caught sight of her.

  “Lizzie? What on earth is the matter?”

  And then the tears were running down her cheeks and Daniel had dropped the briefcase and his arms were around her, holding her. “What’s happened? Is it your mum?”

  She shook her head and tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Daniel said, “Shh now, it’s alright,” although – Elizabeth thought – how could he know that? It wasn’t alright. It wasn’t alright at all.

  When her sobs had subsided, he held her at arm’s length. “What the hell’s going on, Lizzie? You look bloody awful.”

  She tried to smile. “Thanks.”

  “No, I mean – you look so tired.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping.”

  He sighed then and she knew: he wouldn’t believe her. He said, “Oh, Lizzie…”

  She cut him off. “I’m worried about Josh.”

  Daniel ran his hand through his hair, the thing he always did when he was irritated and trying not to show it. “He told me you’d been ringing him.” She felt the flush rising to her cheeks.

  “I can phone him, can’t I? My own son? Or do I need to ask your permission first?”

  For a moment, he looked as if she’d slapped him, but then he took a deep breath and she knew he was trying to keep his temper. In a distant part of her mind she was grateful.

  He said, “That’s not what I’m saying. But you remember what it was like, going away to university? Josh needs to stand on his own two feet. He can’t have…”

  Elizabeth’s face screwed in a knot. “What, Daniel? He can’t have what?” She hated the shrill edge to her voice. “He can’t have his clingy mother checking up on him every five minutes?”

  He didn’t reply, just sat there staring at her. He was probably wondering what had happened to his usually rational wife.

  She couldn’t blame him; she’d started to wonder the same thing.

  She said, “I’m sorry, Daniel. I know how this sounds. But there’s something wrong, I know it. Josh is in danger.”

  For a moment, she thought she’d got through to him; she saw the flash of fear in his eyes. She said again, “Our son is in danger.”

  “But you don’t know why? Or from what?”

  “No, but…”

  He sighed again and she knew she’d lost him. “Look, Lizzie, I know it’s hard not having him around. I feel the same way…”

  “It’s not that!”

  “Then what is it? What?”

  But she couldn’t answer.

  They maintained an uneasy truce for the rest of the weekend. If Daniel knew his wife spent each night lying next to him in the dark, eyes wide open, barely sleeping, he didn’t mention it. Perhaps he’d decided it was better to pretend everything was alright, better to avoid talking about anything that might fuel her morbid fears.

  When Sunday night rolled around, Elizabeth followed him to the car, trying not to show that her stomach was already churning at the thought of being left at Seaview alone. Daniel threw his briefcase onto the back seat then pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you, you know.”

  She nodded into his chest and held him closer.

  “I can always stay. If you want me to.” A pause in which she dared to hope, then, “It’s just difficult at work right now…”

  She pulled away from him. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will. And he’ll be back before you know it,” he smiled in a vaguely patronising way, “Stinky socks included.”

  She forced herself to smile back and waved as the car crunched down the driveway, watching until it rounded a bend behind some trees and was gone. He meant well, Daniel, she knew that; if only he respected her opinions half as much as he respected his own...

  She breathed in the salty air and looked out to where the sea met the horizon. Tonight, the water was a hazy green-grey, almost merging with the twilit sky. It was beautiful, and yet there was a melancholy to the view; something timeless reminding her that life was brief and the sea would be there still, long after she had passed to dust and ashes.

  She turned and walked towards the house. And that’s when she caught the movement at the edge of her vision.

  A woman, framed by the drawing room window, dark hair drawn back from a pale face, tears running down her cheeks.

  Elizabeth gasped and blinked once, twice. The woman was gone.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Thank you, Elizabeth. You’re a life saver!” Sophia pushed another enormous bag into Elizabeth’s arms. “Careful with that one – it’s got the wine.”

  Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself. She was sorry for Sophia’s marital problems, but she couldn’t deny what a relief it had been to receive her phone call. Sophia and Thomas had another almighty row, and Sophia had begged to come and stay at once. “I need sanctuary, Elizabeth!”

  Now they deposited her bags in the entrance hall and Elizabeth led the way to the kitchen.

  “I had forgotten how beautiful this house is!” Sophia enthused. “So light and airy! But you have not changed anything here, I think?”

  “Not in the kitchen, no. It’s a bit dated, I suppose, but everything works well enough. It seemed wasteful to rip it all out.”

  “I love it.” Sophia was adamant. “I want the whole tour. After a glass of wine, of course.”

  Elizabeth handed her a glass with a smile. “My pleasure.”

  “Shall we sit in the room at the front? It must have a wonderful sea view.” She was already heading for the door.

  “The drawing room?” Elizabeth swallowed. “It’s a bit cold in there…”

  “I don’t mind. It’s part of the charm of English country houses, no
?”

  Out of excuses, Elizabeth followed Sophia into the hallway and pushed open the door to the drawing room. Her eyes swept the space before her but there was nothing to cause alarm; no shadow by the window, no echoing footsteps. She stepped inside.

  “C’est magnifique!” Sophia had walked straight to the window and was looking out over the sea. “If I lived here I would spend all my time looking at this view.”

  Elizabeth watched her from the fireplace and murmured agreement. There was something about the scene that wasn’t quite right. What was it?

  The mantelpiece. Something about the mantelpiece.

  “I am so pleased you haven’t fenced off the cliff edge.”

  “Yes, we did wonder about that…”

  There were the candlesticks, one at either end, the box of matches they used for lighting the fire…

  “But you concluded it would spoil the view. You were quite right.”

  …the family photographs in their silver frames…But yes, that was it. A chill stole up Elizabeth’s spine as she examined the photo of Josh. It had been on the left-hand side of the mantelpiece, she was sure of it, next to the photo of Daniel and her at an awards dinner. Now it sat alone on the right.

  “Elizabeth?” Sophia had turned and was looking at her expectantly.

  “Sorry, miles away.”

  “I was asking where you bought these beautiful chairs.” Sophia was inspecting the upholstery on one of the wingbacks that sat beneath the window.

  “There’s an antiques shop in Bridgewater…

  “Oh! But something has fallen underneath!” Elizabeth approached as Sophia bent down and scrabbled under the chair. “It’s a pen, I think…”

  Her missing fountain pen. She must have dropped it here after all.

  Sophia was holding it in her hand as she got to her feet and Elizabeth stepped closer, reaching out to take it from her…

  She froze, her eyes fixed at a point above Sophia’s head.

  There, reflected in the glass of the window, was the spectral figure of a woman, her face streaming with tears.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth and screamed.

  Chapter Four

  “You must think I’m mad.” Elizabeth sniffed into a tissue. It had been such a relief to tell Sophia everything. She was a good listener; it came of being a journalist, probably, getting people to tell their stories.

  “Never. If you say you have seen these things, heard these things, I believe you.”

  “She was only there for a moment…”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Tall, thin, very pale. She was wearing an old-fashioned dress, a duck blue colour with a high neck.”

  Sophia nodded. “And you say you have heard her crying? At night?”

  Elizabeth groaned. “I’m so sorry, I should have told you before you got here. I understand if you don’t want to stay.”

  But Sophia’s eyes were bright. “Nonsense! There’s nothing I love more than a good mystery, and I’ve not had the privilege of meeting a ghost before. I might get lucky.” She reached out and rubbed Elizabeth’s arms. “Come on, cheer up.”

  “But what if it isn’t? Good, I mean. She seems so sad…And she makes me afraid…” She had been going to add “For Josh,” but found she couldn’t. Saying the words would make it real.

  Sophia got to her feet. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and rubbed the nape of her neck. Almost an hour of internet searching and they had nothing to show for it. Other than the Land Registry’s record of its sale to them from the estate, Seaview seemed to have cast not a ripple in the historical pond.

  “Well, that’s that then. No blood-soaked horror story or family tragedy.” Elizabeth tried a laugh to hide her disappointment. “Well it did sit empty for years but maybe this is just a plain old case of a middle-aged woman losing her marbles.”

  “Don’t say that! And don’t give up so soon!” Sophia paused as if she was choosing her next words carefully. “You say this all began a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Yes, almost as soon as Josh left.” Elizabeth chewed at her lip. “Look, I know how that sounds, but it’s real. And today, when we came into the drawing room, Josh’s photo had been moved. It’s always on the left-hand side of the mantelpiece, next to the photo of me and Daniel, but today it was on the right.”

  She took a deep breath, “I wonder if this woman believes she has some kind of connection to him. It seems like she’s disturbed that he’s gone.” Elizabeth glanced at Sophia, an apprehensive look crossed over her face. Sophia was silent.

  Eventually with a sigh and a slight shrug Elizabeth said. “Look Soph… I don’t know… I only know what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard. And I just… I’m worried.”

  For a moment, Sophia said nothing. Then she gave a terse nod and pushed back her chair.

  “Where are you going?”

  “If the internet can’t help us, we’ll do this old-school. We’re going to the library.”

  Bridgewater Library was an old, red-brick building in the gothic style. Elizabeth half expected the librarian to answer the door to them and take their coats; but once they got inside everything was bright and modern.

  Sophia strode up to the front desk and fixed the grey-haired woman there with her brightest smile.

  “My friend and I are doing some research into the history of the area. We wondered – is it possible to take a look at the archives of the local newspaper?”

  The woman peered at them over her glasses. “The Bridgewater Courier? Of course. Though I’m not sure how much help it will be – how far back do you want to go?”

  Sophia turned to Elizabeth, who shrugged. “I’m not sure. The house is Victorian – so I suppose anything from about 1820 onwards.”

  “Oh dear.” The librarian frowned. “I did rather wonder whether we’d be able to help. You see, there was a fire in the archives a few years ago…”

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. “Was everything lost?”

  “I’m afraid so. Everything since then is stored electronically of course, but it only goes back four years. Not the sort of material you’re looking for, by the sound of things?”

  Disappointed, they thanked her and left. Back in the car, Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Another blank. It looks as if we’re running out of ways to find out about the crying woman.”

  Sophia’s voice was thoughtful. “There is still one thing we could do.”

  Elizabeth turned to her in surprise. “What?”

  “Ask the ghost.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  They’d written the letters on scraps of paper, A to Z, And yes and no, too. And goodbye,” as Sophia had instructed. When they were finished, they pulled a small round table in front of the drawing room window, Elizabeth struggling to repress the shiver that shook her body as she took her seat next to it. Sophia arranged the letters and words in a circle on the wooden surface and placed a glass upside down in the centre.

  “Now place your fingertip here, like this,” she had said, pressing one polished fingernail atop the glass. “Don’t push! We must let the spirit speak to us.”

  Elizabeth pointed to the mobile phone set up to record on the windowsill. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  “But of course! I am a journalist, after all. We must have a record of any - phenomena.” But in the event, there had been nothing to record.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth couldn’t decide whether she was disappointed or relieved. After half an hour in which the glass barely moved at all, or just ranged aimlessly around the letters she suspected that, in spite of her earlier injunction, Sophia was pushing it.

  Eventually, Sophia had become bored and pronounced the experiment a failure. They had left the letters scattered on the table and gone to bed. According to Sophia, you were supposed to spit into the glass to dismiss any lingering spirits; but Elizabeth had drawn the li
ne at that and they had both agreed that putting it in the dishwasher would have the same effect.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth stretched in her bed. Sleep had come easily last night and for once she’d woken refreshed. Sophia was showering, and she heard the water shut off. She’d have to get up soon and make breakfast. A feeling of happiness washed over her as Sophia’s tread sounded on the stairs.

  It was good to have her company and with any luck, the tea would be brewing by the time she made it to the kitchen.

  Swinging her feet out of bed she reached for her bathrobe.

  “Elizabeth!” Sophia’s voice carried up the stairs, urgent and excited. “Come down here quickly!”

  She ran to the top of the stairs. Sophia stood at the bottom, two bright spots of colour in her cheeks. “Quick! You have to see this!” She disappeared down the hallway.

  “In here!”

  Following Sophia’s voice into the drawing room she looked over to where Sophia stood, still in place beneath the window.

  Elizabeth walked towards it, her legs like lead. Sophia was pointing to something lying there, surrounded by the scattered scraps of paper. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she saw what it was.

  Josh was smiling up at them from his photo, the glass of its frame smashed to smithereens.

  Chapter Five

  Elizabeth replaced the phone and took the cup of tea Sophia handed to her.

  “He was alright, then?”

  She nodded. She had called Josh as soon as they had found the photograph and at first his phone had gone to voicemail; but she’d rung straight back and the second time he’d answered, groggy with sleep. She didn’t care that he’d been cross that she’d woken him up; it only mattered that he was safe and well. They were sitting in the kitchen, at the back of the house. Sophia had wanted to stay in the drawing room but one look at Elizabeth’s pallor had convinced her not to argue.

  “You should try not to worry…” Elizabeth looked at her in disbelief, but Sophia carried on.