The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  Its emptiness accentuated her aloneness. Where was the ghost? Where was Theodore?

  Before she could speak, the ladder rose and slammed into place with a bang. Lucy whirled, but she didn’t try the ladder. If it was like the door, it wouldn’t release. Well, maybe if she replaced the books in the bookcase, it might open, but that was capitulation, not success. She stood in the middle of the room and chanted— “don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.” The chanting didn’t help. Lucy was very afraid. Sitting the bag down on the floor and holding the phone with both hands to keep it from swinging back and forth, she called out.

  “All right, I’m going to make you an offer.”

  The light from her phone blinked, and she wondered what was going on. She glanced at the screen, and there it was…

  STEALING IS A CRIME

  “I know it is,” Lucy continued. “But if you think about it, you’ve stolen too. This is my house, and even when you moved in it wasn’t yours. At least I bought it. You didn’t, so you sort of stole it. And about the books, I don’t intend to keep them. I intend to give them back and I brought you two of them, but the other two are not here. They’re outside with Mia and Oliver.”

  A blast of frigid air hit her, and somewhere in the house, panes rattled in their windows.

  “I want to give you something better. Better than just the books and sketches.” The windows rattled with such ferocity, Lucy thought they might break. She held her ground. “Will you listen to me?” She shouted.

  The rattling ceased, and Lucy felt she was making some sort of progress.

  “I want you to relocate. We’ve found a nice, quaint, castle that might suit you perfectly. It’s not inhabited. In fact, it’s a bit of a ruin, but it’s been around for centuries, and I’m quite certain it will be around for centuries to come. And it wouldn’t be stealing if we had permission for you would it? And we do.”

  Nothing happened.

  “You are allowed to live there, always. We will be happy to transport you there and set you up. What do you say?”

  No wind, no rattle, no eerie moan, nothing.

  “I know you like it here,” Lucy said. “But you can’t stay. If you persist, I’ll burn the books, and perhaps this entire house. Then, where would you be? No books, no house.”

  The windows RATTLED loud again. A draft like a shaft of ice stole her breath. She felt fingers on her arm and neck. The urge to flee raced through her. What was she doing? Baiting a ghost? Wasn’t that the height of folly?

  “I’M NOT KIDDING!” Lucy yelled. “THIS IS MY HOUSE!!”

  The manifestations stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest, but she had to keep going.

  “We can do this,” Lucy said more evenly. “All you have to do is to spirit yourself into a container that will allow us to carry you to your new home. Apparently, it’s especially designed for transporting gho—… people like you.”

  There was a THUMP on the wall, but Lucy didn’t know if it was Theodore or something else.

  “Look, you’re scary Theodore, we don’t want to travel in the car with a loose ghost. You have to agree to get in the bottle. And Mia has it. I don’t see that you have a choice. Think about it. Wouldn’t you rather have a creepy old castle to call home?”

  The quietness deepened and Lucy’s mouth went dry. The silence was excruciating. What if she had infuriated Theodore beyond return and this was the calm before the storm.

  “I meant what I said before. I’ll burn the place the down. And if you kill me first, then I’ll stay here too. And you’ll never ever see your sketches again. All because you wouldn’t move.”

  The quietness persisted, Lucy felt if she moved a muscle, Theodore would pounce. Her throat constricted but she forced the words out.

  “You have to trust me on this. And if you don’t agree and Mia gets in, she’s bringing reinforcements. Big ones.”

  Nothing happened.

  “How about this? Since you have a penchant for cold drafts, do two of them if you agree to move.”

  Still nothing happened.

  Lucy bit her lip. She had been so sure that it would work. Obviously, she did not know spirits at all.

  Then, the light on her phone wavered, and she looked at it again. The words ‘STEALING IS A CRIME’ fell away and a new one formed the word ‘MORE’. She read the message, her heart sinking. What more could she offer? What more did he want?

  “What?” she asked. “What more do you want?” At that moment, the bookcase teetered and crashed to the floor, making Lucy jump. She spun and highlighted it with her torch.

  Leaning against the wall was a large artist’s sketchbook. She walked over and picked it up. She opened it and found sketches, many sketches.

  “Add this?” she asked.

  Two drafts of cold air wafted over her, and she smiled.

  “Bargain,” she said. “Everything goes, books and sketches.”

  The ladder freed itself and fell to the floor below. Still scared but feeling better, Lucy left the attic. As she descended the stairs to the kitchen, she heard Mia and Oliver coming down the hall, the door swinging open behind them. She met them in the kitchen, and she did not stop to explain anything. She grabbed the ghost trap, an opaque greenish bottle, and put it on the floor.

  “This is your carriage Theodore. Please get in.” They stood and watched. Nothing happened. “We can’t see you. How do we know you are there? The bottle teetered and wobbled.

  “Thank you, Theodore. Tell you what, to show good faith, we won’t even cap it.”

  Oliver looked terrified.

  “Oh, alright then.” Lucy capped the bottle.

  Chapter Ten

  Brecker Tower stood in a sad dilapidated state on a small hill in a sparsely populated area. Sheep roamed the hills right up to the door. The caretaker opened up and let them in.

  “It’s not safe mind. Don’t go exploring too high or you’ll likely wind up with a broken neck. The rain has got in, and there’s damp around. And watch your step. The floor is crumbled in places. You have to sign here.”

  “What’s this then?”

  “It’s a waiver, in case you get hurt. It’s standard. A time back, ghost hunters used to come up here. There’s naught been found so they don’t bother anymore.” Lucy’s mouth dropped open and she shut it quickly.

  “Right then… we’d better sign.”

  “Just return the key when you’ve finished.” The group watched him leave, then Lucy pulled out the books and the ghost trap. Oliver looked around admiringly.

  “It’s a damned good place for a ghost. Good call Lucy.”

  “What shall we do with the books? I had hoped we could just leave them here but if the odd ghost hunter turns up and finds them…. I’ve a feeling all hell will break loose.”

  Oliver scuffed his shoes at the crumbling stone floor.

  “Perhaps we could pull a couple of these up and place them under here?”

  A loud cracking sound caused Oliver to jump, Lucy to swear and Mia to stand stock still, mouth wide open.

  “Bloody hell – he’s out” shouted Oliver rhetorically as they all gaped at the smashed ghost trap.

  A wind picked up around them and they backed themselves against the wall.

  “I don’t think he means to hurt us. He could’ve busted that bottle anytime.” Lucy yelled.

  They watched as the energy moved ever toward the books and formed a vortex over the precious belongings. The books moved effortlessly.

  Not a page fluttered as they were carried along in the eye, up the crumbling staircase, high over the balcony and somewhere even higher out of sight. Mia was the first to break the silence.

  “That’s one for my autobiography. I’ve never seen anything like it. He broke the ghost trap.”

  “I guess he had a lot of pent up energy. Maybe he’s a frenetic kind of ghost.”

  Oliver looked white, but his colour was coming back. Lucy spoke loudly.

  “I don’t
suppose I have to yell Theodore, but we don’t know where you are. Thank you for keeping your bargain. And thank you for staying put in the bottle. It would have been a terrible fright if you had done that in the car.”

  There was no evidence of anything at all.

  “So, what do you think of your new home? Do you like it? If you do — you know what to do.”

  Two icy drafts washed over them, and Lucy shivered, a happy shiver.

  “What was that?” Oliver asked.

  “That was yes,” Lucy answered.

  Before they left, Mia chanted a short spell or something. When she was finished, they left. Lucy was the last to walk out. She paused for a moment and looked back into the room. She was pretty sure that in time, this place would become a favourite of ghost hunters.

  “Be happy,” Lucy said. “And thanks to you, I believe in the afterlife now. I never really did, you know. I’m going to live my life through new eyes. Oh, and if I find something else of yours, I’ll bring it along all right?”

  Two icy drafts hit her in the face. She grinned and laughed as she hurried out to the car.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I miss Oliver,” Mia said as she sipped her white wine

  “Me too.” Lucy answered as she polished the new brass sign. “Rochford House has a nice ring to it, don’t you think. And how do you like the wall paper in the dining room?”

  Mia laughed.

  “Sounds like you’re devastated. Poor Oliver. But yes, I do agree the name has elegance and the paper is exactly right.”

  “Well speaking of Oliver, if you must know, I really do miss him. He sent me a housewarming gift you know.”

  “Oh! What is it?”

  A car pulled up and interrupted the conversation. The first of her guests, besides Mia, had arrived.

  “Hi” called Lucy – this is it. My new digs.” She ushered her friends through the door. “Give me your coats. Pints down the hall in the kitchen. Make yourself at home.”

  Mia took some gifts for Lucy and placed them in the front room.

  “What is this?” she said, admiring a set of coal black bookends.

  “It’s tourmaline - from Oliver. It keeps ghosts away, apparently. Since Theodore was so attached to books, Oliver figured if I protected my books, then I would be OK.”

  “That’s sweet.” Mia smiled.

  “Yes, it really is.” A tiny smile crept over Lucy’s face.

  Mia walked off down the hall to join the growing crowd, and Lucy stopped in the doorway regarding the bookends thoughtfully. They were perfect in this room. Oliver had good taste.

  Ever since the conversation with Percy, Lucy had found herself feeling lighter. It appeared that Mia had been right. But whatever torch she had been hanging on to was now completely gone. She just hoped that if he and Corrine ventured to the castle, Theodore would be welcoming, well, at least, not vicious.

  A sudden blast of cold air hit her back.

  The chill rippled through her body — and her brain.

  Was he back? Did he want his bed in the attic again? It couldn’t be!

  She turned to find a smiling couple, the door open.

  “Lucy, the place looks fabulous.”

  Lucy breathed deeply and accepted the gift they held. Just a cold draft, nothing more.

  THE END

  THE HAUNTING OF THE GREY LADY

  CAT KNIGHT

  ©Copyright 2018 Cat Knight

  All Rights Reserved

  Prologue

  6th AUGUST 2010

  Jaffrey & Sons Fine Diamonds

  London

  Lord Grey studied the diamond earrings carefully.

  “If I may say,” the smiling Rodney said. “These are perfect for Lady Grey.” Rodney was the owner of the jewellery store, and Lord Grey had done business with him for more years than he cared to remember. It was safe to say that every ring, brooch, bracelet, necklace, and earring that Lady Grey wore had come from Rodney’s emporium. Lord Grey guessed that he had financed the education of Rodney’s three children and several summer holidays to Spain.

  But Lord Grey held no grudges. Rodney always recommended classic, beautiful pieces that suited Lady Grey’s colour and mien. It wasn’t Rodney or the earrings that riled Lord Grey. It was that he was buying them for his wife.

  “They certainly sparkle,” Lord Grey said. “And this is our twentieth anniversary. And Lady Grey does appreciate diamonds. So, I suppose you should gift wrap them and deliver them to my office this afternoon. If I forget the anniversary again, she’ll have my hide.”

  “Of course, Lord Grey. On your account?”

  “Yes, this purchase goes on the account.”

  Rodney grinned, and Lord Grey understood why. Some of his purchases weren’t charged to the account that Lady Grey might just audit. Those packages were delivered directly to Monica in the flat he paid for without Lady Grey’s knowledge. Lord Grey knew that to keep Monica, especially at his age, he needed to make her life soft and lovely. He had not yet started taking her places where he would be recognized, but he enjoyed her immensely in the flat. The jewellery placated her to some extent, but as she often asked, what good was jaunty jewellery if he couldn’t display her with it? Rodney’s compatriot smile reminded Lord Grey of his problem.

  And Lady Grey was his problem.

  After twenty years, their marriage had entered that quiet period, that habitual period where things were done with metronome regularity. Dinner at seven with soup, salad, meat, vegetable, and dessert. There were the symphonies and gallery openings and private parties that marched along like so many toy soldiers, all alike, boring after many iterations. No wonder his heart jumped when he thought of Monica. She was heat in silk.

  With a nod, Lord Grey grabbed his hat and left the store.

  He had done his duty, and Lady Grey would be very appreciative which would pale compared to Monica’s gratitude. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could think of something different for the anniversary celebration. That might perk up things. But what could he do? What might bring a wiggle to Lady Grey’s behind and a twinkle to her eye? He would have to think of something.

  Chapter One

  12th AUGUST 2010

  Heath Street Cafe

  London

  Lady Grey stared at the tabloid page and fumed. The paparazzi photo was evident. In the background stood her husband, Lord Grey… and a woman she didn’t know. From the looks on their faces, both her husband and the woman were having a fabulous time, and why not? The woman was younger, much younger than Lord Grey, a filly for an old stallion. How could Lady Grey possibly compete with that? It wasn’t that she was that out of shape. She thought herself pleasing to the eye for the most part.

  Of course, there was no denying or delaying time. The human body was simply a victim. The human mind however…

  She glanced at the anniversary gift she had chosen for her husband. He loved old books, and she had managed to find a first edition of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

  It had cost far more than she had wanted to spend, but Dickens has always been one of Lord Grey’s favourites. It was something about the lilt of the prose. At times, he claimed it was almost poetry.

  And he was laughing and cooing with some young… She didn’t want to complete the thought. She couldn’t stand it. She hated it.

  And she had always thought him above that sort of thing. Cheating was so pedestrian, so common. He was honourable, or so he claimed. She was so disappointed.

  What was she to do?

  She wasn’t going to sit back and take it. That was certain. She wasn’t going to be a suffering spouse, lost in her wine glass and taking calls from commiserating friends. No, if she had learned anything from the modern era, it was that she had options. She might not remain Lady Grey, but she could spend as if she were. And she could live even better than she lived now. All she had to do was find leverage.

  If she possessed leverage, she could push Lord Grey in any direction she chose. But how to fin
d leverage?

  Her cell phone chirped, and she looked at the ID—Lord Grey. She was tempted not to answer, but that might be a tell-tale sign that something was wrong. No, she didn’t want him to think anything but that their anniversary was right on schedule and breathlessly anticipated.

  “Well,” she said to the phone, “have you decided on tomorrow?”

  She listened as he told her his idea. A boat trip? Paris? Well, that certainly sounded good to her. Shopping? Dining? The Eiffel Tower? It was one of her favourite short trips. They would recreate their honeymoon, right down to the same hotel. Was she up for that?

  Of course, she was. In fact, it sounded heavenly. What wife didn’t want to recreate her honeymoon? As a matter of fact, she could think of several, friends whose husbands hadn’t been so good on that first go around. But, as she remembered her honeymoon, it was a delightful episode.

  If it weren’t for that… hussy, doing the honeymoon over would be exactly what she wanted.

  Not now, no, not now. It wouldn’t serve as a honeymoon, but it might serve for something else. It might serve the plan that was forming in her mind. There had to be a way, and she was certain she could make it happen. What had to be done first? That was easy. She needed to print out a copy of the photo. Without that, he might simply deny, deny, deny. And that wouldn’t make her happy at all.

  Chapter Two

  13th AUGUST 2010

  Southampton

  United Kingdom

  The Grey Lady had been prepared for the short trip across the channel. Only two ropes secured it to the dock, and Lady Grey knew how to slip off the nooses and climb aboard as her husband backed the boat away from its berth. She had done it many times when they were first married, when taking the boat for a two or three-day sojourn was just what the libido ordered. She had been giddy about him in those days, and she knew he had been giddy about her.