The House on Widows Hill Page 10

  ‘Two stories, and no real ghost? I think you’re undermining your own case.’

  ‘Then tell us your story,’ said Freddie.

  ‘I don’t have one,’ I said. ‘I have never seen anything to make me believe in ghosts. And I’ve been around.’

  ‘Oh, he has,’ said Penny. ‘Really. You have no idea.’

  ‘Do you have a story?’ said Tom.

  ‘No,’ said Penny. ‘I was kind of hoping that tonight would turn out to be my ghost story.’

  ‘How about you, Arthur?’ said Freddie. ‘Our confirmed sceptic … Do you have anything to contribute?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Arthur, just a bit unexpectedly. ‘I have a story. It doesn’t have an ending, or an explanation; it’s just something that happened to me when I was six years old.

  ‘Like Tom, I woke up in the early hours of the morning. It was summer, and the room was full of light. I was just lying there, waiting to go back to sleep, when a dark human shape walked out of the wall to my left, crossed in front of my bed and then disappeared through the right-hand wall.

  ‘Now, when you’re that age, you tend to just accept things. So I waited for a while, to see if the figure would show up again, and when it didn’t, I went back to sleep. In the morning, I told my mother what I’d seen. She said it must have been my father, looking in to check I was all right. But I said no. Then it must have been a dream, she said. She was starting to sound a bit impatient, so I just nodded and got on with my cornflakes. But I knew it wasn’t a dream.

  ‘What was it, really? I don’t know. I don’t have any answer for you. But that’s my story.’

  ‘But … after an experience like that, how can you say you don’t believe in ghosts?’ said Penny.

  ‘Because I don’t know what I saw,’ said Arthur. ‘I never saw anything like it again. And after all these years, how can I even be sure that I’m remembering it correctly?’

  ‘Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,’ said Tom.

  ‘I’m a journalist,’ Arthur said coldly. ‘I won’t accept any story that isn’t based on provable facts.’

  I looked at Lynn. ‘I suppose you have a story.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Lynn. ‘I was once called upon to cleanse an old Norman church in Wiltshire—’

  ‘Oh, not that one!’ said Arthur. ‘You’ve told that story half a dozen times in interviews, but I haven’t been able to find a church anywhere in the whole of the West Country that fits the details you gave. Like a lot of your stories, it doesn’t stand up to close examination.’

  ‘I know you’ve been looking into my past, Arthur,’ said Lynn. ‘I have friends, who tell me things. There are always going to be people who are jealous of those with gifts. What you’ve been hearing are just their attempts to bring me down.’

  She didn’t sound disturbed or even embarrassed by Arthur’s claims. His face flushed angrily.

  ‘I will prove you’re a fraud,’ he said flatly. ‘No matter how long it takes. People talk to me, too.’

  ‘I’ve had to face this kind of disbelief all through my career,’ Lynn said quietly. ‘It’s often hard for people to accept the kind of things I’ve experienced. Most prefer to believe in the things that comfort them. But it doesn’t matter what convictions you cling to, Arthur; this house will make a believer out of you.’

  He subsided, reluctantly. Lynn looked steadily round the circle.

  ‘If everybody is quite ready … then I’ll begin.’

  She delved into her wicker bag and brought out several paper sachets. She tore them open one at a time, and sprinkled coloured powders over our heads, with what might or might not have been mystical gestures. We all just sat there politely and let her get on with it. I wondered if we were all going to end up with multi-coloured dandruff, and suppressed an urge to shake my head vigorously. I smiled politely at Lynn.

  ‘I knew aromatherapy would turn up at some point.’

  ‘I have a degree in organic chemistry,’ she said calmly. ‘I understand these things. It’s all about establishing the right atmosphere. Speaking of which …’ She reached into her wicker bag again and brought out a thermos and a stack of paper cups. She opened the thermos and poured hot steaming liquid into one cup after another.

  ‘Just a little herbal tea,’ she said. ‘To help settle everyone’s nerves.’

  The room was cold enough to make a hot drink seem very appealing. Lynn passed a hand over each cup in a blessing, before passing it on.

  ‘May God bless all here and look kindly on our undertaking in this matter.’

  It wasn’t much of a blessing, and I particularly didn’t like the use of the word undertaking. Not that I’m superstitious; just sensibly cautious. Which is why I waited for the others to try the tea before I did. It was pleasant enough.

  Arthur looked around the room, frowning. ‘Is it just me or does it feel even colder in here?’

  ‘Probably just the tea,’ said Freddie, sipping hers loudly.

  Tom glanced over at his monitor screen and sat up straight. ‘The temperature has dropped again! I don’t believe it!’

  He started to get to his feet, only to sit quickly back down again when Lynn glared at him.

  ‘You stay right where you are, Tom! The circle must not be broken. Not after all the trouble I’ve gone to, establishing a proper communion between us. Now – if everyone could please finish their tea and pass me back the cups – it’s time we got started.’

  We all finished our tea, made appropriately grateful noises and handed the cups back to Lynn. She tucked them away in her wicker bag, along with the thermos, and smiled quickly round the circle.

  ‘First rule of haunted houses: don’t litter.’

  ‘First rule?’ I said.

  ‘Well, it might not be the first,’ said Lynn. ‘But it’s definitely up there in the top ten. Now, everyone, please hold hands.’

  ‘I knew that was coming,’ Arthur growled.

  ‘Just pretend it’s me,’ said Freddie.

  Arthur smiled and then pretended he hadn’t.

  We all took hold of each other’s hands. Everyone looked a bit uncomfortable, but no one said anything. Lynn raised her head and addressed the room in a friendly, confident tone.

  ‘I am speaking to any entity present … Please make yourself known to this circle and explain to us why you are feeling so troubled. We can help you. You only have to tell us what’s wrong.’

  I was expecting more, but she just stopped talking and sat there. Waiting. We all sat very still, gripping each other’s hands tightly. As much for mutual support as anything. Everyone was breathing a little faster than usual. We were all sitting so close I could hear everyone’s heartbeats, like so many muffled drums, and even the harsh rustling of their clothes. But I couldn’t hear anything else.

  Suddenly, the overbearing feeling of dread and horror was back, even stronger than before. Like a terrible weight pressing down on my mind. I looked round the circle and saw the same sense of shock in everyone’s face.

  ‘I told you,’ said Lynn. Her voice was steady and entirely unmoved. ‘We’re not alone here. Hello? Who’s there? What is it you need, and how can we help? Please, talk to us.’

  The door opened on its own. I was sure it had been properly closed, but now the door was swinging slowly out into the room, revealing nothing beyond it but an impenetrable darkness. The hallway should have been visible, but there was only the dark … I couldn’t see a thing. And I have always been able to see something, even in the darkest and blackest of nights. It felt as if our small room was the only spot of light left in the world, surrounded by an ocean of darkness.

  ‘Nobody move,’ Lynn said harshly. ‘Don’t break the circle! As long as we remain connected, we’re protected.’

  ‘But there’s nothing out there,’ said Tom. ‘Nothing at all!’

  ‘We called and we have been answered,’ said Lynn. ‘Something is here; can’t you feel it?’

  Penny’s hand clamped down on mine. I squee
zed it reassuringly. We all sat very still, our eyes fixed on the darkness that filled the doorway. Lynn was right. Something was there, in the dark, watching us. Getting ready to come forward and emerge into the light. And when it did, and we were finally able to see what it was, it was going to be the worst thing in the world. I’d just started to gather my legs under me, so I could get to my feet in a hurry, when Lynn’s head came up sharply.

  ‘Did you feel that? There’s a presence – here in the room with us!’

  ‘I’m not feeling that!’ said Tom. ‘Is anyone else feeling that?’

  ‘There’s something in the walls,’ said Lynn. Her voice had a fey, faraway quality, as though she was dreaming.

  ‘I’m not feeling anything!’ said Arthur.

  Penny looked at me and shook her head quickly.

  Tom craned his neck to make out the readings on his monitor screen. ‘There’s all kinds of information coming in, but … none of it makes any sense! It’s like the data is being swamped, by some stronger signal!’

  ‘Don’t be afraid!’ Freddie said loudly. ‘I call on the clear white light, to protect us all!’

  ‘The light can’t help you,’ said Lynn.

  Arthur cried out. He jerked both his hands free in a sudden spasm and then fell backwards until his head hit the floor with a dull thud. He didn’t move, staring up at the ceiling with wide fixed eyes. Lynn screamed and scrabbled backwards across the floor. Her feet kicked against Arthur’s arm, but he didn’t react. I hurried over to kneel at Arthur’s side, but I couldn’t find any trace of a pulse, and he wasn’t breathing. Penny moved in beside me, and I shook my head.

  ‘Arthur?’ said Freddie, her voice thick with horror and loss. ‘Arthur!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘How can he be dead?’ said Tom.

  ‘I can’t find any obvious cause,’ I said.

  ‘Look at his face!’ said Lynn. ‘Isn’t it obvious? He died of fright!’

  I looked back at the door. It was very firmly shut. As though it had never been open.

  FOUR

  Unexpected Voices

  Lynn started to reach out a hand to Arthur, then she snatched it back and got slowly to her feet. She was shaking, and her eyes were wide and confused. Freddie was already standing up. She wasn’t shaking, and her mouth was firm, but she never took her eyes off Arthur. Tom was also up, shaking his head over and over, as though he could deny what was happening. Penny and I got to our feet, but before either of us could say anything, Lynn raised her voice.

  ‘We have to get out of here!’

  She started towards the closed door, but Freddie moved quickly to stop her, one hand clamping down hard on her arm. Lynn tried to pull away, but couldn’t. She whirled on Freddie.

  ‘Let go of me! What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘You are not opening that door,’ Freddie said sharply. ‘The darkness could still be there, or whatever’s in it that killed Arthur.’

  Lynn looked at the closed door and swallowed hard. Freddie let go of Lynn, but she didn’t move.

  ‘There’s nothing on the other side of that door,’ I said.

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  ‘How can you be so sure, Ishmael?’ said Penny.

  ‘Because if there was anything outside, I’d hear it,’ I said. ‘And I’m not hearing anything.’

  ‘All right, then,’ said Tom. ‘If you’re so sure, you open the door.’

  I started forward, and they all fell back to give me plenty of room. Penny wanted to go with me, but I shook my head quickly. Because I have been known to be wrong, on occasion. I stopped before the closed door and listened so hard I could have heard the dust falling, but there was nothing. I took a firm hold on the handle and pulled the door open. The hallway was full of bright electric light, just as it should be – still and quiet and completely empty, all the way to the front door. There was no trace of the darkness we’d seen before, and now that the mood had been broken, I was starting to wonder if it had ever really been there.

  I stepped back and indicated the normality of the hall with a wave of my hand. Lynn bolted past me and went running down the hall, heading for the front door. Freddie and Tom hurried after her, not even glancing at me. They’d had enough of the mysteries of Harrow House. They just wanted out. I looked at Penny.

  ‘Did you see what was in the dark that killed Arthur?’ she said, her voice entirely steady. ‘With those incredible eyes of yours?’

  ‘I didn’t see anything,’ I said.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ said Penny.

  ‘Well, first, we go after the others,’ I said. ‘Because they might need protecting, and because if Arthur was murdered, they’re our best suspects.’

  ‘You think he was murdered?’ said Penny.

  ‘Don’t you?’ I said.

  Penny looked at Arthur’s body, still lying where it had fallen, and nodded slowly.

  ‘Poor man. No one ever seems to die of natural causes on one of our cases.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m starting to feel like a jinx.’

  She managed a small smile for me. ‘We’d better get a move on, or we’ll end up chasing the others through the gardens.’

  ‘They’re not going anywhere,’ I said. ‘I had Arthur lock the front door, remember?’

  She looked at me admiringly. ‘You really do think ahead, don’t you?’

  ‘Someone has to.’

  We set off down the hall. I kept a watchful eye on the side doors, but neither of them showed any signs of opening. We soon caught up with the others, crowded together before the front door. Lynn had both hands on the handle and was struggling with it for all she was worth, but the door wouldn’t budge. Tom pushed her out of the way without even bothering to be polite about it, but he didn’t fare any better with the handle. He swore loudly and pounded on the door with his fist. Freddie looked as if she was thinking of trying a punch or two herself. All three of them were so intent on the door that they didn’t even notice Penny and I had arrived.

  ‘We’re going to need a really good reason to keep them here, Ishmael,’ Penny said quietly.

  ‘We have no idea how Arthur died, or why,’ I said. ‘It could be down to the house, but it’s far more likely that one of these people is responsible. So no one is going anywhere, until I understand exactly what happened.’

  Penny looked at me. ‘It could be dangerous to remain here, Ishmael.’

  I shook my head firmly. ‘I haven’t seen anything to convince me that there’s anything threatening about this house.’

  ‘What about the darkness in the doorway?’

  ‘Darkness doesn’t kill people.’

  Penny nodded reluctantly. ‘And healthy young men don’t just drop dead for no reason.’

  ‘Not even in supposedly haunted houses,’ I said. ‘Which is why that door is staying locked.

  ‘How could the hall be so dark,’ said Penny, ‘when the lights were on the whole time?’

  ‘I’m still working on that,’ I said. ‘But the darkness did make for one hell of a distraction. I have to wonder what it kept us from noticing, that someone else didn’t want us to see.’

  Penny smiled suddenly. ‘I do love the way your mind works.’

  ‘Years of experience,’ I said. ‘I’ve learned the hard way not to trust anything or anybody. Apart from you, of course.’

  ‘Nice save, sweetie,’ said Penny.

  I cleared my voice loudly, and the three people struggling with the front door jumped as though they’d been stabbed. They spun round to face Penny and me.

  ‘You’re not going to force open a door that heavy,’ I said. ‘They knew how to build things in Victorian times.’

  ‘There must be a back door somewhere,’ said Tom, his voice rising in a way that promised something very like hysteria in the near future.

  ‘You would expect that to be the case, wouldn’t you?’ I said. ‘But think about it. The ground floor is made up of j
ust the three rooms, and not one of them possesses another exit. I don’t see where else we could look for a back door. There’s no kitchen, no storage area and no servants’ quarters.’

  ‘Maybe they’re all upstairs,’ said Penny.

  ‘Even if they are, I doubt we’ll find a back door up there,’ I said. ‘I think Malcolm Welles designed this house to have just the one way in or out.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ said Penny.

  ‘To control the only way people could enter or leave,’ I said. ‘This was never intended to be just a family home.’

  ‘What else could it be?’ said Freddie.

  Her voice was steady enough, but her face was grim, all her bonhomie gone with Arthur’s death.

  ‘A prison,’ Lynn said suddenly. ‘To keep whatever is still here from getting out.’

  We all thought about that for a moment.

  ‘What about Malcolm’s family?’ said Penny.

  ‘He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who gave a damn about anything but his own interests,’ I said. ‘It’s always possible the family were never allowed to know what they were sharing their house with.’

  ‘I told you there was something here,’ said Lynn. ‘Are you ready to admit this house is haunted, after all?’

  ‘Not by ghosts,’ I said. ‘By something from the past … perhaps.’

  ‘Like what?’ said Freddie. Her shock was giving way to anger as the frustration of the situation took hold.

  ‘Good question,’ I said.

  Lynn kicked at the closed front door. ‘We’re trapped in here! Trapped, with whatever killed Arthur! The house doesn’t want us to leave!’

  ‘It’s not the house,’ I said. ‘I had Arthur lock the door, right after we arrived.’

  The three of them looked at me as though I was insane.

  ‘Why the hell would you do something so stupid?’ said Tom, his voice rising dangerously.

  ‘So we wouldn’t be interrupted in our investigation,’ I said calmly. ‘The keys to the house should still be in Arthur’s pockets. I would have told you that if you hadn’t just bolted out of the room.’