The Ghosts of RedRise House

by Caroline Clark

  Despite the late hour and the chill of the night, they didn’t shiver… they simply stood looking, staring as if at freedom. Their big eyes, white against dirty skin, pleaded for escape. On either side of them, standing like a sentinel, were adult figures. Cloaked in long dark robes that covered their heads and hid their features. One was smaller, perhaps a woman, but it was impossible to tell.

  The keening hit a note so high it must surely shatter the houses remaining windows. The boy was so close to escaping… just five more feet and he would clear the house grounds, clear the shadow. He would be free of the jungle of weeds and place his bare feet on the rolling grasslands.

  At the door, the children shuffled on the spot... leaning forward as if to push him those last few paces. Their faces were lit with excitement, hope, and yet beneath it all, was the mask of fear. This was false hope, and they knew it.

  One more step and the boy was gone. The keening was replaced by a collective sigh of disappointment. They stepped back, making room, and were not surprised when the ginger-headed child appeared before them. Tears ran down his cheeks, tracing a clean path through the dirt.

  The children all crowded around him offering support though none tried to touch him. They knew better.

  Then one by one they threw back their heads, and the keening rose into the night. It was a sound so terrible... it told of their pain and their eternal torment. Now, it was clear why they didn’t move their lips; the sound came from the brutal slashes across their throats. The torn and bloodied skin flapped as the noise rose into the night.

  The adults remained still, like statues, and yet despair came from them too. This was not a good place, not a place that they intended to stay.

  Leeds Magistrate Court

  Westgate

  Leeds

  West Yorkshire

  LS1 3BY

  1:30 pm

  Perched on the edge of the hard bench, Shelly waited for the twelve people to file back into the room and take their seats. It was hard to keep still, hard not to smile, but she knew it was inappropriate. A hand took hers and squeezed it gently.

  Looking up she nodded at Jack. A similar light lit his sea blue eyes as she knew shone in her brown ones. There was the touch of stubble on his chin. How long had it been since they had gone home? Three weeks. Three exciting weeks they had sat here. Waiting, hoping, wanting to hear the details of what had happened. Though they knew what they heard would be but a faint impression of the truth. The truth was too much for this courtroom. It was up to them to find it. To prove it. To free Miss Benson.

  Shelly’s mousy brown ponytail swished through the air as she turned to glance around the courtroom. Leaning forward, she licked her lips as the jurors sat down, leaving just the foreman standing. Breath held she waited, wanting justice, but fearing it was as elusive as the ghosts she so wanted to find.

  The courtroom was full and had been so for most of the trial, but today the mood was different. For so long it had been depressing, painful almost, to see the faces ravaged with pain and grief. Today there was anticipation. It buzzed and clung in the air. It was reflected in the stiff shoulders, the shiny eyes, and the way that some of the relatives perched on the edge of their seats. Just like Shelly, they waited for justice. Licking lips, tasting it in the air, but fearing they wouldn’t get it.

  Some of the family members had stared at them at first. Their blank eyes accusing, asking. Why are you here? It didn’t bother Shelly.

  What they did was unconventional, there would always be those who didn’t understand. That was part of the job, she understood it, and she knew this was their job to do. Their time. It was harder to comprehend why Jesse and Gail had abandoned Rosie Benson. Why they refused to tell the court what had really happened. It felt like a betrayal and had angered her at first. Only now did she see it as an opportunity. The two ghost hunters simply watched the trial with Amy Firth. Merely consoling her or giving Rosie a nod or a supportive glance.

  What use was that?

  They were supposed to be heroes. Supposed to be real paranormal investigators and yet their client was here, standing trial for murder.

  Shelly knew she would never let this happen to a client of hers. She would get them off no matter what it took. Pulling her eyes from the two investigators, she turned back to the court.

  Rosie sat just in front and to the left of them, waiting for the verdict to be read out. She was thin, and dark lines marred her eyes, yet there was a sense of peace about her.

  Shelly understood. Rosie had seen the truth. She knew there was more than this mundane world. She knew there was something after. That knowledge changed you. It had changed Shelly and Jack. It had given them a purpose. Now, this had happened in their town... a haunting, a possession, and the house it all started in was so close. Though they were both supposed to be at university, they had taken time off to watch this trial.

  Paranormal studies hadn’t taught her anything, anyway, and Jack was studying computer science. He was a genius at that sort of thing. Could teach his lecturers a thing or two. Missing a few weeks wouldn’t matter too much. Not for something this important.

  So every day they sat in the courtroom and listened to the evidence. Then they went back to the hotel and tried to work out what really happened. It was intriguing, exciting, and at the same time, frustrating having to read between the lines. What they wanted was a real haunting. All the details. What they wanted was something to fight, rights to wrong, evil to banish.

  The clerk cleared his throat, and Shelly stilled her mind to listen. What verdict was given would impact on her future. On how easy it would be to help Rosie, on if they could even visit her.

  If she were convicted of first-degree murder, then it would be unlikely that they would be allowed, at least not straight away. Holding her breath, she waited. Hopeful that this would go her way. That there would be a chance to help Rosie, to set her free, and to help all these grieving relatives. She wanted it so much and yet, like the relatives, she feared it wouldn’t happen. Feared that Rosie would be locked up in a maximum security prison. One she wouldn’t be granted access to.

  Coming to his feet the clerk of the court faced the jury. “Will the jury please rise.” He turned to Rosie. “Will the defendant also please rise and face the jury.”

  Wood scraped on the hard floor and the sound of people standing echoed around the cavernous room. Shelly watched Rosie try to stand and wobble. The lawyer, Mr. Paul Simmons, put his hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet.

  “Mr. Foreman, has your jury agreed upon your verdicts?”

  A kindly man of about fifty looked down at the envelope in his hand. “We have.” With a shaky hand, he passed the envelope to the clerk who took it to the judge. Silence was a beast waiting to pounce. It would change their future, she knew it. Anticipation stilled her breath.

  “What say you, Mr. Forman, as to complaint number 5879643, wherein the defendant is charged with three counts of first-degree murder? Is she guilty or not guilty?”

  The Foreman turned toward Rosie, and she wavered slightly. He looked down as if he couldn’t face giving her such bad news.

  Shelly almost let out a moan.

  “Not guilty.”

  Had he really said that? Had she just wanted to hear it, just imagined it? She looked at Jack, he nodded. Shelly let out a small grunt of joy and felt a few disapproving eyes turn upon her. The relatives wanted Rosie to hang — they didn’t understand. Shelly would help them see the truth.

  “Order,” the judge called as a murmur of dissent rumbled around the courtroom. “Order, order,” his voice boomed across the rumblings, and the noise stopped.

  The next charge had to be guilty, the solicitor had tackled this case by ignoring the truth. It angered Shelly and Jack too. This was a place where they should be able, to tell the truth. If they had, then Rosie would be a hero. She would be freed and thanked by the relatives. Instead, she would be shamed and locked up. The unfairness of it caused acid to
rise in her throat and her heart burned with exasperation.

  Rosie swayed a little and was steadied by her lawyer.

  “What say you, Mr. Forman, as to complaint number 5879644, wherein the defendant is charged with three counts of manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility? Is she guilty or not guilty?”

  “Guilty.”

  Shelly let out a blast of disappointment, but she could hear mumbles of approval from the relatives. They felt they had received their pound of flesh. To them, it was over. They could mourn their dead and continue with their lives. Shelly intended to change that. With Jack, she would prove what had really happened and then she would visit the relatives and let them know that their loved ones had moved on. That there was something after. Then they would all join together to campaign to free Rosie.

  Shelly watched as Rosie sank down into her seat. Amy approached her and pulled her into her arms. They hugged and were talking. Gail and Jesse hovered and exchanged words with the solicitor while two guards waited ready to lead Rosie away.

  Shelly wanted to rush up. To tell Rosie to hold on and she stood.

  Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Not now,” he said. “This is not the place.”

  “Yes, but I should tell her. She needs to know that someone cares.” Frustration and excitement made her hands rise like birds ready for flight, but she knew that Jack was right. Though she wanted to run over there and tell Rosie what she had planned it was not the time. Now they would have to be patient. Raising her eyebrows, she gave Jack her cutest smile.

  A big grin spread across his face. “Let’s eat,” he said and held out his arm.

  Shelly took it and let him lead her from the courtroom. Suddenly she was starving and knew that they would visit the fried chicken restaurant next door. Despite her petite size, they would eat the biggest bucket there, she would eat the most. Twice as much as the 6 foot 2 inches of muscle that she called her friend. Together they would talk late into the night. A strategy had to be made, a plan devised, soon they would find out the truth.

  51

  “No.”

  Shelly felt as if she had been slapped and drew back from Rosie. No, how could she say no?

  Across the light oak table, Rosie smiled. It was a look of peace, of understanding, fitting for this light, airy room. It had taken Shelly completely by surprise, even more, than the room had. Instead of bars and walls of glass between her and the inmates, there were tables, chairs, teal blue sofas and woodland murals on the walls. The room was full of patients and visitors, and yet it was quiet, relaxed, more like a spa than a high-security unit for the criminally insane.

  That smile, the word no, it was the exact opposite of what Shelly expected. Right now she wanted to jump up and slap Rosie. To tell her there was hope but she couldn’t. Beside her, Jack leaned forward and then sat back. The look on his face was as confused as Shelly’s.

  It had taken them two months to get here. Two long months of letters, phone calls, and research. At first, Rosie had flatly refused to see them. All along Jack had encouraged her in his own way. Telling her that Rosie would be confused, frightened, and maybe even still possessed.

  “Perhaps the spirit wasn’t exorcised?” he had said. “Perhaps we need to get into that hospital and save her from it.”

  Now those words came back to Shelly, and she stared at Rosie. Could it be true? In her bag, she had brought Holy Water, a cross and a Bible but these had all been confiscated. How would she find out if this woman before her, the one with the serene smile, was in fact possessed?

  Part of her thought that must be the answer and her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of a way to prove it. Of some clever words that would trick the spirit into revealing itself.

  Jack beat her to it. “You are she,” he said standing and pointing. Though his arm shook a little his words were said with confidence. “You’re the Old Hag, the evil one and you will not beat us.”

  Shelly stood up next to him. “Don’t give in Rosie we will find a way to save you.”

  Rosie smiled again. “I can assure you the spirit is gone. I understand your passion and your need to help, but there is nothing you can do. My body committed those crimes even if my mind didn’t. People died because of these hands.” Rosie held her hands up before her and Jack jumped in front of Shelly, raising his own arms as if he wished to fight.

  “Relax,” Rosie said. “I’m no threat. I’m free and I’m happy to stay here for as long as needed. Talk to Gail and Jesse, they will explain.”

  Shelly sat down and grabbed hold of Jack’s suit jacket. It was a brown check, and it had buzzed her that he had worn it. It made him look so professional, and here she was in jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe that was why Rosie wasn’t taking them seriously. Or maybe she had to say this. Maybe she was hiding her true feelings from the people who were guarding her.

  Shelly winked and looked around the room. No one appeared to be watching, but that would be how they wanted it to look. “I understand. We will go to RedRise House and find out what we need to know. You sit tight... do what you need...”

  “No!” Rosie shouted. “Stay away from there.”

  An orderly appeared as if out of nowhere, and Rosie lowered her voice. “Gail and Jesse will visit the house when the time is right, — you must stay away.”

  The orderly was gone, and so was Shelly’s dream.

  Jack put a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped and let out a little shriek. “Sorry,” she said and gave him a smile.

  He winked and turned to Rosie. Sitting back down. “We understand. We will leave this to the experts...”

  What was he saying? Shelly wanted to tell him to stop, but her brain couldn’t cope, and once more her mouth flapped in the wind.

  “Maybe you would share your story with us,” Jack continued. “The real story?”

  Rosie let out a sigh. “If that will keep you from looking into this then yes I will. But promise me you will stay away from RedRise House.”

  “Yes of course,” Shelly said for she understood what Jack was doing. Right at that moment, she wanted to hug him. To pull him into her arms and kiss his handsome lips. Only that would break their unwritten rule. They were friends, only friends. Would he ever see that she wanted more?

  It was two hours later that they left the secure unit with copious notes and more excitement than they could contain.

  “You want to eat?” Jack asked as they climbed back into his nine-year-old Clio.

  “Always.”

  “I thought so.” He winked before turning the key. The engine turned over slowly and coughed like an asthmatic pig. Chug, chug, chug, at last, it fired, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief before turning the wheel out of the car park. “We passed some services a few miles back down the road.”

  Shelly nodded. She remembered seeing them on the way here. They had a lot to think about and drove in silence, but it was never uncomfortable. Shelly clutched onto the notes as if she feared that they could disappear just as easily as the spirits in Rosie’s tale.

  Once they were sat in the services, Jack with a coffee and a slice of toast and her with the mega all-day breakfast, they began to talk. The notes were open in front of them.

  “What do you think?” Jack asked.

  “That you are just the cleverest, most devious, and wonderful man that I know.”

  “Well yes!” he said, as a rose blush crept up his cheeks.

  Shelly picked up a sausage on her fork and began to nibble at the delicious pork. Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat knowing that she was unaware of the effect she had on him. Taking a sip of tea, he pulled his eyes back to the notes. “Are we going to see Gail and Jesse? Do you think they would... see us?”

  Shelly finished the sausage and wolfed down her toast. Wiping her lips, she shook her head from side to side as if trying to decide on what to say. “Don’t you dare think, that we are a waste of their time! I’ve seen things, know things, and you have researched and read u
p on this with me. We are as much experts as they were, are. I’m even taking the same course as Jesse, damn it.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes, we are quite the experts.” Sitting up straight in the chair he smiled again. “So what’s our next move, expert?”

  “More toast and then we make a plan. I don’t think we even bother going to see Gail and Jesse the so called Spirit Guides — I think we go straight to RedRise House and release those children.”

  Jack gulped and reached for his tie. Moving it away from his throat as if it were suddenly throttling him. “I say, do you really think we should do that?”

  “Why not?” Shelly asked, but she loved his accent. So proper, so unlike her own. “We have the notes from Rosie, we have our Holy Water and our cross. We can do this.”

  Jack said nothing for a few moments, and she knew he wanted to bring Gail and Jesse with them. Part of him didn’t believe her, but another part did. It was that part that was afraid, and yet she knew he would never say so. He would think and sometimes stutter but he would back her, and he would be there if she needed him.

  “Do we just drive up to the house and break-in?” Jack asked as his Adam's apple bounced over his tie.

  “We don’t need to.” Shelly’s eyes widened as another plate of toast was dropped in front of her. She licked her lips. “I’ve been doing some research and the couple who own the house. An old retired couple called the Duncan’s have agreed to meet us there.”

  Jack’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed. Shelly knew it was best to let him take his time and come to terms with how bold she had been. Taking her eyes off his rugged face, she slathered butter onto the toast and then popped a jar of jam. Before he could form a thought, she had topped the butter with jam and eaten half of the first round. It was delicious.

  “When did you have in mind?” he asked.

  “This next weekend is a bank holiday, and we have a full week off Uni. I thought we could travel up on Friday night and stay there the weekend and the following week. What d’ya say?”