Edward stood stupefied, in a complete state of shock, then staggered throwing up on the grass. Emily smiled, satisfied with her work and rounded on her brother.
"Tell anyone, and I'll say you knew what I was planning and you helped me. They'll lock you away as well as me for the rest of your life." She walked off, leaving Edward struggling to come to terms with the violent murder of his older sister as he continued to puke on the grass.
I was in a state of shock too, witnessing the horrific scene, but felt compelled to comfort the boy. I walked towards him, when suddenly daylight disappeared. All around was silent. Only by the half light of a hazy moon could I see the surrounds. The well was gone along with the apparitions.
I made my way back to the house and poured myself a brandy in the sitting room. The embers of the earlier evening fire were still glowing and I added a couple of logs. Then sat in the armchair watching the flames growing into life as my mind grappled with the terrible murder I'd witnessed.
From an early age I had always wondered about the family whispers surrounding some unknown secrets of this house. I'd gathered that few if any of them knew exactly what had happened here. If what I was now witnessing held the truth, it was a revelation I would have been happier not to know.
Yet fate appeared to have chosen not only to expose the cursed sins of this place to me, but also to suffer the horror. It was perfectly possible for me to escape from this nightmare. I could pack my things and head home right now. Abandon the house and my grandfather. But of course, I couldn't abandon my grandfather. I could never live with myself by acting so callously.
My option was to find new accommodation nearby. The thought had now crossed my mind a number of times, but held back by the desire to keep watch over the property and make sure the house remained warm with fires, in case he quickly recovered and came home.
Now I reasoned staying somewhere else nearby would enable me to call in daily to keep the place in order. Yet strangely, something inside felt restless, unsatisfied. The story of the house was not over my senses told me. I certainly didn't want to suffer any further horror, but conversely I wanted to know the remaining secrets hovering unseen within the walls and grounds.
As I wrestled with these conflicts, seated beside the sitting room fire, sunlight began to edge through the window. My watch showed seven o'clock. This was real daylight and not a supernatural manifestation.
In the kitchen I was making a pot of tea when I heard a knock at the door.
"On my way to the surgery," Marcia greeted me at the door. "Wasn't sure if you'd be up yet. Just called to see if all is well." Her words trailed into a pause.
"You look awful if you don't mind me saying so," she appeared concerned.
I felt awful. Hair uncombed, face unwashed and covered in stubble on top of the disturbing night.
"Has something happened?" Marcia asked.
At that moment I didn't feel like telling her of the horrific spectral murder I'd witnessed.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" I asked.
"Would love a cup, but I have to get to the surgery," she apologised. "Look, why don't you stay at my house? This place doesn't seem to be doing you any good. I've got room, and I could do with a bit of company while you're here."
My wavering mind over whether I should continue in the house, or find nearby accommodation was now truly made up.
"Are you sure that would be okay? I don't want to impose."
"Of course," Marcia smiled. "I don't want to have to treat you for a breakdown in your health."
Her remark seemed to be made lightly, but nearer to the truth than she may have realised.
“Pack your things and bring them over at one o’clock. I’ve some house calls to make in the village, but I’ll pop over at lunchtime. You can park on the forecourt.” She said goodbye and returned to her car.
The prospect of leaving the house, but being nearby to keep an eye on the place lifted a great weight off my mind. Though even as I left, the grip of Emily on my life somehow seemed to follow me.
As I arrived at Marcia's house, she pulled up behind me on the forecourt. After I'd unpacked, we sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and eating cheese and tomato sandwiches she'd made.
"You could do with a good rest," she said as we finished lunch. "Go and have a lie down in the bedroom. I'm sorry it's a bit sparse, but it hasn't been occupied for some time. Must hurry now for my next house call."
The sparse bedroom, as she'd described it, was luxurious compared to the one at my grandfather's. For a start it had a carpet. The room was similarly panelled, though somehow the dark wood seemed to shine with a cared for lustre. The bed linen looked fresh and inviting and the greatest plus was having an electric light, without the pungent vapour that poured from kerosene lamps.
Before taking a rest, I had the further luxury of a nearby bathroom with hot bathwater supplied from an electric geyser. Then to bed, where I sank into a deep, refreshing sleep.
A knock at the door woke me.
"I'm making dinner," Marcia called. "Ready in half-an-hour." I looked at my watch. It was nearly seven in the evening.
"I managed to get these sausages from the butcher," she told me as we sat to eat in the dining room. "Still rationing shortages from the war, and they aren't always available here."
"I must pay you for the accommodation and food," I said.
"Just make a contribution for the food. I'm not short of money," she replied.
"Pays well as a doctor," I remarked, then realised that may have sounded rude.
"Not for the hours of work I put in," she said, taking no offence. "The parents of my late husband, Richard, owned an engineering company," Marcia explained. "It was very successful and Richard owned shares in it as a sleeping partner. When he died, the shares transferred to me. I didn't want to be part of the enterprise, not my province, so I sold the shares and invested the money. I hardly touch it, but occasionally it helps with an extra expense to be covered. I lead a fairly frugal life."
"With all your work you manage to keep this place in an amazingly good condition," I said. She laughed at my remark.
"I'm no wonder woman. Mrs Ballantyne, a lovely lady who lives in the village comes to clean it once a week. I couldn't keep it clean like this on top of my long work hours."
After helping Marcia with the washing up, we settled in the sitting room with a pot of tea in front of the cosy fire. A sense of happiness that I hadn't felt in a long time began to settle over me.
"I have one of my rare days off tomorrow," she said as we drank tea, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me in the car? Take in some of the local area. Have a look in Beresford, our nearby town."
"I'd love to," the invite was an unexpected pleasant surprise. As we chatted, the phone in the hall began ringing.
"Just a moment," Marcia got up from the armchair and left to answer it. A few minutes later she returned.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go out. Someone in the village has been taken ill and I'm still on duty until tomorrow. May not be back until late," she explained. "Don't stay up." She hurried out.
I was annoyed at a truly relaxing evening being brought to an abrupt end. Then I reprimanded myself for being selfish. Some poor soul was unwell. Marcia had to rush out to them, and here I was still sitting comfortably in front of a warm fire. By eleven o'clock she still hadn't returned. I went to bed feeling even greater admiration for the woman's self-sacrificing work.
******
WHEN I woke again, Marcia was calling me from outside the bedroom.
"I'm making breakfast. Don't be long."
Downstairs in the kitchen she served bacon with fried eggs and toast. Delicious.
"I got back at about three this morning," she told me. "The young son of a local farmer fell from a barn loft where he'd been helping his father stack hay. Broke his right arm and leg. I had to straighten the bone fractures so they wouldn't start trying to heal out of place," Marcia shook her head.
&
nbsp; "Poor boy was screaming in agony. I gave him a shot of morphine and waited until the ambulance arrived. Took hours because the vehicle broke down on the way there."
"You must be exhausted," I said, "we can put off going out."
"No, I get used to catching short snatches of sleep in this line, and I've been looking forward to a day out for a couple of weeks now. A locum's covering for me today."
Before our outing, Marcia drove me to the hospital where my grandfather remained unconscious, with no change reported in his condition. Hopefully, tomorrow he might show some sign of progress was the only news the doctor could offer.
While travelling with Marcia, thoughts of Ruth crept into my mind, and the deep hurt I'd felt by being rejected. But now the episode didn't seem so painful with Marcia beside me.
Perhaps the fates had guided, and Ruth was never destined for me. It was not the first time in my life that some unpredictable event had pushed me in another direction. The war for one. I could only hope whatever shift was now taking place, this time would be for the better.
I was beginning to feel a fondness for Marcia, but dare not run away with any idea that my destiny lay in that direction. She was just helping a stranger who was many miles from his home.
We visited the market square in Beresford town, looking round the traders' stalls crowded with eager buyers including Marcia, buying a brown leather handbag and a necklace. Then we found a cafe and had lunch. Her tired look in the morning had now been replaced by rosier cheeks, which pleased me.
I linked my arm in hers as we walked along the high street, for a second wondering if such a friendly gesture might be an intrusion too far. She looked at me and smiled, sending a warm glow through me.
On the way back we took a detour, stopping for a countryside walk and later enjoying tea and cakes in the village cafe. That evening I made the dinner and we settled for a while with glasses of sherry in the sitting room. All to soon my happy day was over.
"Hope you don't mind, but I've a really early start tomorrow and I'd better get some sleep," said Marcia, finishing her drink and preparing to leave the room.
I wanted to kiss her goodnight to show how much I'd enjoyed her company. A desire that for now though, would probably be a step too far. We'd had a good day together. I didn't want to risk spoiling it.
CHAPTER 7
MARCIA had left the house when I woke next morning. I made breakfast, then while clearing up heard the clatter of a horse and cart approaching on the paved forecourt.
From the kitchen window I saw the same milkman who made deliveries to my grandfather's house. He reined in the horse bringing the cart to a halt and jumped down. He gave a surprised look seeing me opening the front door as he approached.
"Just lodging temporarily," I said.
"None of my business," he replied, giving me a knowing wink and thrusting a bottle of milk into my hand. I closed the door hoping he wasn't going to set up chain of salacious gossip about the newcomer and the village doctor.
At the hospital I received some hopeful news, followed by a shock.
"Your grandfather stirred a little last night," the nurse informed me. "He mumbled something under his breath about someone falling into an old well in a garden. Do you know who or what he might have been talking about?"
I shook my head. I didn't want to tell her what I'd seen. The possibility my grandfather could be implicated in gruesome murders.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
I must have suddenly looked pale. Whatever coma he was in, something about the past was obviously stirring in his mind. I had only seen ghosts of the past and had no tangible evidence of crime being committed. The nurse's words virtually confirmed to me that my grandfather knew an old well had once existed in the garden, and that a body or bodies really did lay hidden down there.
Satisfied I wasn't unwell, the nurse looked at a form on the clipboard she held.
"From tests, the doctor says there's nothing he can diagnose as to why he remains in this condition, but it's good that he appears to have shown a slight sign of consciousness. We'll keep you informed of any further developments." The nurse smiled and left the room.
"See you tomorrow," I whispered to my grandfather, hoping this possible improvement might enable him to at least hear me. There was no response. Now my concern was that he might give some confession to his part in the horrifying killings while still unconscious.
That afternoon, with a feeling of great reluctance, I took the footpath from Marcia's house to my grandfather's in order to check all was well. The fires had gone out and I spent some time relighting them, just in case he made a speedy recovery and came home.
As I left the sitting room and began crossing the hall to leave, I caught sight of two figures standing at the bottom of the stairway. A middle-aged, grey haired man wearing a dark suit and white wing collar shirt. A woman dressed in a turquoise, bell-shaped gown hugging her tightly at the waist. Light brown ringlets spilled over on each side of her centre parted hair. She appeared several years younger than the man.
I recognised him as the same spectre I'd seen on the landing that night when I first arrived, doing his best to comfort Victoria over missing fiancée Percy. My heart sank. I'd been in the house for about an hour and was already being haunted again. The spectral woman with him sounded angry and upset.
"We've now had two governesses since the first one disappeared without trace," she said. "Both have resigned saying Emily is wilful and refuses to behave or learn. And she threw a china ornament at me today when I asked her to tidy her bedroom."
It began to dawn on me this was Emily's mother.
"I know she can be difficult, Vera, but it's probably her age. I'm sure she'll grow out of it," father defended.
"I'm sorry to say it about our own daughter, but I think the girl is wicked." the woman ignored his attempt at defence. "Now that Edward is away at naval college, I'm of a mind that we should send Emily to a finishing school. Preferably a long way from here, because I'm at my wit's end with her."
"I'll consider what to do," the man replied. They started walking towards the front door. It was closed, but held no barrier to these apparitions as they disappeared through the solid wood.
Only for my grandfather's sake did I feel duty bound to watch over the place. God knows, I never wanted to step inside the house or its grounds ever again if I could be free of that duty. And even now the visitations were not yet over.
A girl appeared from an open doorway opposite me in the hall. I didn't recognise her for a moment. Then I realised it was Emily, though no longer the youngster I'd last seen. Her face fuller, moving into early womanhood, her figure more developed, wearing a long, dark blue gored skirt and puffy-sleeved, cream lace blouse. Her increasing beauty belied the evil that dwelt within.
While the other spectres had been unaware of my presence, Emily saw and sensed me perfectly. She gave me a cunning grin.
"You heard my mother," she said. "Don't you think it's unkind that she wants to send me away?" Emily wasn't waiting for a reply. She began walking towards me as if living flesh and blood. My own blood running cold. Her eyes glistened with malice.
"Now you see why I shall have to do something about her. I can't have my mother wanting to send me away." Almost reaching close enough to touch me, her image dissolved. I stood in the hallway alone, my mind reeling yet again from another bizarre encounter with the dead.
I made a swift exit from the place, returning to Marcia's house with the vision of the ghosts weighing heavily, especially the malicious look in Emily's eyes. Time had obviously passed in the narrative of that spirit world, and although she was now on the cusp of adulthood, Emily's evil mind apparently remained.
Yet something more terrifying began to crystallise in my thoughts. I recalled grandfather telling me that while he was a young man away at naval college, he was summoned home on news his mother had suddenly disappeared. A heartbreaking event coupled with financial problems that ended with his fa
ther dying a year later.
Had Emily murdered her own mother too?
I'd been subjected to enough traumatic supernatural revelations, I didn't want to suffer any more. I couldn't just abandon caring for my grandfather's house, but until he was ready to return home I couldn't tolerate visiting the place any longer. Whatever other secrets the place held, they were in the past, and I only wanted to continue moving into the future. Yet I sensed the house and Emily had not finished with me yet.
Marcia returned at eight that evening. She looked pale and exhausted.
"What a day," she said as I brought her a cup of tea in the sitting room while she relaxed in front of the fire. "Morning surgery was packed, and then I had more than the usual number of house calls to make. People seem to be going down with illness like ninepins. Some nasty infections around at the minute."
"Well I hope you don't catch any of them," I sat down in the armchair beside her.
"Hazard of the job," she laughed. It was wonderful enjoying her company again as we chatted for a while, helping to push the bizarre events of the afternoon into a distant compartment of my mind for now.
"Right, better get something to eat," she said, finishing her tea and beginning to stand up.
"No, I'll do it," I raised my hand signalling her to remain seated. "I bought a couple of beefsteaks in the village after leaving grandfather's house. Thought I'd get us a treat. Seems the food rationing is easing a little."
"I like chocolate even more," she said.
"Hasn't eased that much," I replied with a smile, and left for the kitchen.
******
"How was your day?" Marcia asked, as we sat together eating in the dining room. She immediately detected a change of mood in my face, the memory of the haunting beginning to cloud the happy moment I was sharing with her.
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