As she watched, in the corner of the kitchen a darkness began to form. It was like a dark mist, like smoke. It swirled and coalesced before her. Moving, forming, and then disappearing as quickly as it came.
"Don't go. Please don't leave me. I need your help."
As she said the words, a groan came from behind her. It was a keening of pain and fear, and she turned around to see a man of about sixty. There was a scar over his right eye and his face was distorted into a grimace of agony.
Rosie let out a scream and jumped back as the hair rose on her arms. She hadn’t expected a man.
Then he was gone.
With her hand on her chest she waited, spinning around in the room. Who was the man? He had to be the other life Matron had taken?
Now I have two, she had said, and soon there will be three.
The mist was back… it rushed toward her and fear forced her to move back, but the mist stopped and reformed, and she could see Mary within its smoky tendrils. The old woman was smiling, reaching out with her thin bird-like hands.
Rosie had the need to take her hand, so she reached out. Her fingers traced through the older woman, there was nothing there, just a sense of cold.
Mary looked confused, worried. The shrill tone of a phone sounded and the mist was gone.
Rosie picked up the phone.
"Hey Rosie, how are you?" Amy sounded jovial, but she could hear that her friend was worried, afraid of what she was saying and of what she would hear in return.
"I'm okay at the moment. I can't say much but I need you to understand that I am dangerous." A spike of pain lanced through her brain, but then it was gone. "Did you put that card in the post office window and did you see another advert there?"
There was silence on the end of the phone. As it dragged between them she could feel Matron waking. The old woman knew she was in danger and she was starting to come forth. Rosie didn't have long. If she didn't act now she would lose control.
"I have to tell you..." The words stopped in her throat and Matron filled her head with molten lava. The heat spread and melted her thoughts away.
Rosie pulled back into her vault to avoid the pain but she had to try and look out. As she did, the pain was gone. The shadowy mist was back in front of her and she could see Mary smiling within it. She was holding the hands of the scarred man and the floppy-haired drunk. Rosie whispered, sorry to them and looked for the phone. It was on the floor.
Picking it up, she said, "I'm sorry Amy I don't have long and I can't say what I want to say."
"I understand. I have a possible buyer for your computer. Can you meet me at the little cafe near the post office tomorrow for lunch, around one p.m.? If we can sell your computer, a lot of your problems will be solved."
"I will be there, thank you so much and I love you."
Mary smiled and the smoke dissolved.
Matron was back.
What was that?
Rosie filled her mind with fear for Amy and in doing so feared going to lunch. Who cared if she sold her computer? She had to keep away from Amy. She must keep her friend safe. Then, Matron coursed into her mind and Rosie pulled back into her vault. She had to stay there and keep her thoughts to herself, just until after the meeting.
The smug feeling that came over Matron was enough. The woman thought she was in control. Rosie just hoped that she wasn't. She also had hope that Amy understood and that she would receive the help she so desperately needed to stop this evil bitch.
38
Rosie awakened on the kitchen floor. She was stiff and achy and the fuzzy feeling was back. Where was Matron?
I am here, the guttural voice said in her head. We need to be going to lunch.
“Never!” Rosie shouted. “We will stay in this house forever. You will never get near Amy.”
Rosie was aware of a necklace around her neck. It was heavy. She glanced down and it was the pentagram that she remembered bringing from RedRise House.
“Appear,” the words came out of her mouth, and she felt a charge in the air. The black mist formed and swirled, giving her a sense of hope. If Mary was coming back, then she would have help—but Matron was pleased; she wanted this.
The mist formed and three figures emerged from it. Mary was there, translucent, her pink coat, now gray, and she wasn’t smiling. Her face was contorted, and she appeared to be—afraid. Next to her was the drunken man. His floppy black hair covered one side of his face and fell over his right eye, but the terror in his left was truly apparent. On her left, the scarred man came into view. He was less visible, almost totally opaque, but the scowl on his face was quite apparent and the look in his eyes sent a chill down her back. These spirits were no longer her friends, no longer on her side. It looked like Matron finally had her power base.
You will bow before me, Matron said.
The figures swirled and were gone for a moment. Matron grabbed hold of the necklace in her right hand and with her left, she appeared to grab onto the air and pull it toward her. The spirits were back, and this time they looked defeated, even Mary. They were wearing long black hooded cloaks and they bowed to her.
Rosie’s vision shimmered as if she were looking through tinted glass. She was fading. She tried to move her hands, her legs, to no avail. There was no sensation, no connection, nothing. Fear filled her. Was it too late? Had she already lost this battle?
Tears formed in her eyes… or did they?
“No, you are just my host now… just my prisoner. I will show you what I want, and one day even you will bow down to me in all my greatness.”
Rosie wept inside her prison, tears that would never fall. It filled her mind with one thought: keeping Amy safe.
The smug satisfaction she felt emanating from Matron was both terrifying and gratifying.
Jesse and Gail walked into the cafe. It was the exact opposite of the coffee shop. Whereas that was all white with straight edges and shiny plastic, this was rustic, having round tables and mismatched chairs. Each of the tables had a red checkered tablecloth and a little bunch of silk flowers. Behind the counter, a woman in her mid-fifties smiled warmly at them.
They ordered two teas and chose the table in the window. It had the largest gap around it and would give them some privacy.
Gail looked around the room. There were only three other tables occupied. Two with elderly couples and one with a woman and her three young kids. They were well-behaved and tucked into their food with gusto.
"This place is all right," Jesse said.
"Let's see what the tea tastes like first." Gail's eyebrows rose and she smiled at him.
Neither of them was interested in the drink. They were too excited about what would happen and how they would handle this.
Jesse adjusted his chair so he could look at the door without staring. This was an exciting case and he knew there was something more, something that Amy was holding back. He felt it in his bones and she had alluded to as much.
"We have to get her to open up," he said.
"I will do my best, but she's scared."
"I know."
The owner came over with a tray holding a large china teapot in white with a pretty pink rose design. There were two china cups with saucers, a sugar bowl, and a milk jug that all matched.
"Wow," Jesse said as he watched Gail's eyes light up with delight. She loved her tea, and this was something special.
They thanked the lady and Gail poured the tea -Jesse's first, adding milk. Then she let the pot brew for a while as she twiddled with her fingers.
"Are they late yet?"
Jesse shook his head. "No we were early. Do you remember our sign?"
Gail poured her tea and took a sip, nodding her appreciation.
“Yes. I tap my right thumb on the table if I sense a spirit.”
Jesse smiled. It had been foolish of him to ask, but he was nervous about this one.
They drank in silence, both wanting to ask questions, but both trying to think of the right words to use wi
th their client. It would be a difficult conversation and they would simply have to play it by ear… that was if Amy and her friend Rosie even turned up.
"They're not coming, are they?" Gail asked as the minutes ticked past so very slowly.
"It's possible." Jesse smiled. This was a part of the job and would be something Gail would have to get used to. It was frustrating and disheartening at times, but people lost their nerve, or the haunting stopped. Of course, there were also the times when the whole thing had been a con, a set-up, a joke at their expense. He didn't think this was one of those cases. He had a gut feeling about this one and he knew it was going to be bad.
As if on cue, Amy came through the cafe door. Her hair was even more untamed than normal and she was wearing no makeup. She looked around and spotted them before looking around the tables once more. Disappointment crossed her face as she came over.
"Hi Amy," Gail said, and she jumped up and pulled her into her arms.
It was such a sweet gesture and he could see Amy wanted to pull Gail to her and hold her for longer, despite the fact that they hardly knew each other. It was Gail's skill and he loved her for it.
"Hi Amy," Jesse said and watched as she looked at the door and searched the tables once more. "Don't worry if she is late or even if she doesn't turn up. We can talk and find out more and if necessary, we will visit her."
Amy smiled and sat down in a chair opposite them.
"Can I get you anything?"
Amy jumped to see the cafe owner standing there with her notepad.
"Oh, I'm so sorry my dear," she said.
"Just a coffee, please."
Once they were alone again she seemed to slump into her seat. "I am so worried about Rosie, so terribly worried."
Jesse kicked Gail's leg warning her to keep quiet. He wanted to leave some silence. To give Amy the courage to tell them what she wanted to tell them. But then the door to the cafe opened again and a young woman came in. Jesse would imagine she was in her mid-thirties but knew from what Amy had said that she wasn't quite thirty. The possession, if that's what it was, had aged her. Her long brunette hair was loose around her shoulders but matted to the side of her head. It looked as if it hadn't been brushed in days.
Whereas Amy's bed hair was usually carefully done and fashionable, this just spoke of sloth. As she came over, they could see a scar across her left cheek. It didn't look as bad as he expected. A feeling of sympathy came over him. Rosie had been through so much.
He pushed it away. He had to deal with this emotionlessly and take the best route for all involved. She was wearing an old sweatshirt in a light blue which was stained down the front and dirty looking jeans.
She walked toward the table with her back straight and her head up. It made her look even stranger. That she would be so proud of herself wearing such dirty clothes was almost laughable. Or it would have been if it didn’t' point to her being possessed?
She came straight to the table and stood before them. Jesse knew she expected reverence. It was written on her face and so he decided to give it to her. He stood and bowed before her.
"Welcome, it is such an honor to have you here. We are so pleased to meet you. He rushed around and pulled out a chair. At the same time he felt with every nerve of his body, but he couldn't discern anything. He cursed his lack of talent and looked at Gail.
She was sensitive and he imagined he could see her hair rising with static. Her expression was closed, a little too closed, and her right thumb tapped frantically on the table, she most definitely felt something.
39
Matron was pleased with the café when she walked in. It looked a little familiar. A little more like a tea room than she had expected.
Over to one side, near to the window, Amy sat with two people. These must be the buyers for the computer, whatever that was. It didn’t matter. All she intended from this meeting was to ingratiate herself with Amy. She would work it so that she could get Amy alone and back to her house. Now she had three acolytes, she had enough strength to keep Rosie from influencing her own body for long enough to kill Amy.
Once that deed was done, Rosie would be broken and she would be hers forever. A smile came across her face as she got to the table.
Amy sat on the side closest to the window and opposite her was a man with hair so short you could see through it to his scalp. It was most inappropriate. He was seated next to a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a nondescript face. And yet there was something about her that drew Matron’s eye. What was it?
Before Matron could analyze it further, the man stood and bowed. Did he recognize her? Understand her power? Maybe he felt it. Before long, many would feel it and she would use that to build her souls and to increase her influence even further. She would have this town as her own. She would make them all bow before her, and Rosie would watch. It was a delicious thought and she almost gave Rosie some access, but that was dangerous. Her souls were all tied to the property, to her altar, and she was not as strong without them. If she let Rosie out, there was a possibility that she would cause trouble.
The man kept his eyes lowered as he pulled out her chair. Matron sat down and allowed him to move it in for her. As he did their hands almost touched. A trickle of electricity ran up her arm and into her chest. This one had power, but he couldn’t access it. He was blocked.
Inside Matron the slight shock woke Rosie. She was deep inside her vault, no longer hiding out of choice but because she had none. If she came out, then Matron would still be in control, but she sensed that something was different so she peeked out to see the café.
It was a place which held good memories. She had visited it, as well as the modern coffee shop on many occasions with Amy. They came here if they wanted to eat and to the coffee shop for just a drink.
Seated at the table were a couple and Amy. Her friend looked stressed, tired, and frankly scared. She wanted to reach out and hug her. To tell her everything would be all right.
It won’t be, soon she will belong to me, the voice was harsh in her mind. Gloating and as always smug and superior.
Rosie shrank back a little as if she was hurt by the comment, but she stayed there to watch. The man had his head bowed and he looked as if he was under Matron’s control. Was that possible?
Soon all who come near me will feel my power, Matron said.
The woman looked worried but also strangely confident. Was she the one who had come to buy her computer? She used the same phrase that she had used all along, forcing her mind to think that was why they were here. That way, Matron would not be warned by any stray thoughts. After all, she really wanted to sell this computer.
Matron pushed her away in her mind and looked across at Amy. “How are you, my friend?” she asked, and Rosie felt her lips pull into a sneer. Was it meant to be a smile?
She could see from Amy’s reaction that she was not fooled, but still Amy smiled back.
“I’m good and I see you are looking so much better. How is your novel coming along?”
Matron balked and searched Rosie’s memories. Rosie fought a little but soon gave in and let her see the plot. Let her know that it was not really going anywhere at the moment and that she needed to sell the computer to move the novel forward. The words made no sense but she knew Amy would understand that. It was as much of a code as she could manage.
“I’m a little stuck at the moment, until we sell this com-pu-ter. I expect you to arrange that for me.”
“Well that’s why we’re here,” Amy said, and this time her smile was genuine as she pointed to Gail and Jesse.
Jesse sat back down and beneath the table he squeezed Gail’s hand. It gave her strength and built her confidence. Though it was terrifyingly strange to be here, she knew that she had to do this. Jesse had felt the newcomer’s power. She was sure of that, but he couldn’t see what she could see. The woman before her buzzed with power and was surrounded by darkness. But that wasn’t what turned her stomach to mush and made her knees
shake.
As Rosie walked into the café she could see her terror beneath the fake smile. But there was more than that. She could see the face of the spirit that possessed her. It was like a faint impression behind Rosie’s real face, and it was evil. It had a long crooked nose, cold black eyes, and skeletal cheekbones. There was a smugness about the being and the more she saw of it, the more afraid she was. Somehow she knew that it was ancient and powerful. As she turned her eyes on her, Gail drew in a breath and the air buzzed between them. The hair on her arms rose and her stomach tightened into a knot of fear.
Then she saw a glimpse of the real Rosie beneath the façade. The woman was afraid but fighting, and there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. As Amy spoke about selling the computer she understood that Rosie was fighting, and clever. One way or another she would help her.
Jesse had explained that to get rid of this spirit would require a full exorcism and that it could be painful and traumatic to all of them. He wanted to get Rosie back to her house and to deal with it alone. Without Amy there, Gail couldn’t see that happening. Amy was scared, but she was fiercely protective of her friend and she wouldn’t leave willingly.
“So, Rosie, tell me all about this computer. Why do you want rid of it?” Gail watched the confusion cross the spirit’s face as she asked the question, but Rosie remained calm.
It was so strange looking at the woman across from her. Gail could see three faces. The one that everyone could see was bad enough. Often confused, often displaying contradictory expressions, she looked like some comedian contorting her face to gain a laugh, but no one found this funny. For a moment, Gail thought of Phil Cool known as the rubber-faced man, and it briefly broke her fear.
Beneath the external face she could see the battle between Rosie and the spirit. Old Hag, came into her mind and she wondered where it had come from. Maybe it was relevant or maybe it was just the face that made her think that.
The Ghosts of RedRise House Page 21
