13 Hauntings

by Clarice Black

  Milly went back to the bar.

  Norman unlocked the doors and switched the sign to ‘open’ as the clock chimed nine. After that Milly had no time to think about Norman and her suspicions. She was too busy taking breakfast orders and pouring drinks.

  The rush eased off a bit after noon. Milly was chatting to an old couple having Sunday lunch at the bar when the bell on the door tinkled and Sean walked in.

  “Hey, look who it is! How you doing, Sean?” Milly welcomed their regular patron. He’d been a fixture at the Haunt since opening day.

  “It’s been a long day and I need a pint to ease it along.” Sean sat heavily on a stool at the bar.

  “It’s only twelve in the afternoon, Sean!” Milly laughed.

  “It’ll be midnight in hell, I reckon.” He winked.

  Sean was in his early twenties. He was tall and good looking, with a lean body and broad shoulders. Milly wasn’t one to fall so easily, but every time Sean walked through the pub doors she felt something in her stomach flutter.

  “Have you had your fill of the sights yet?” Sean asked after taking a grateful gulp of his ale.

  “Haven’t seen anything, really.” Milly sighed. “Don’t get much time off work.”

  “That’s a shame. I could show you around if you like.” Sean offered, his warm brown eyes looking at her steadily over his pint.

  “That’d be great.” Milly grew hot under the collar and was sure she was blushing. “I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

  “How about tomorrow morning? I’ll have you back before you open at noon. What do you say?”

  Bob shuffled in from the kitchen holding a plate of roast and mash. He was red in the face. “Been ringing the damned bell for five minutes. Table seven,” he said and handed Milly the plate.

  “Erm… Dad… can I have the morning off tomorrow?” Milly asked before he could go back to the kitchen. He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Sean here’s offered to show me around the village.”

  Sean raised his pint at Bob. Bob stared at Sean for a moment, then glanced meaningfully at Milly.

  “The place is wiped down and ready by seven, and you get back on the dot of twelve.”

  Milly nodded, her grin wide across her face.

  The doorbell tinkled. Sean lifted his pint in greeting to Brian and Cullum. They were rich young men all set to take over their father’s various business interests in London. Milly envied them sometimes. Sean winked at her, then took his pint to the table near the window where his friends were waiting for him. Milly knew their regular order and began to prepare it.

  She had just dropped off the drinks when the bell tinkled again.

  Milly recognized the man. He was one of the first men to rent a room at the pub. He was of sturdy build, yellowish brown hair and average height.

  “Hi there!” Milly smiled. “Alasdair, right?”

  The man nodded. He looked dead on his feet.

  “How was Scotland?” Milly led him to the bar.

  “Productive.” He was a man of few words.

  “Will you be staying the night?” Milly asked.

  “Yes, please. Could I have the same room?” Alasdair didn’t look directly at Milly. She deduced he was a shy man who had very little exposure to women.

  “Of course,” Milly brought out the guest book for the rooms and wrote his name against their largest room. “Will you be staying long this time?”

  “No, just the night.” He handed her his credit card. “I’d also like breakfast by seven in my room. You can bill that on this as well.”

  “I will let my father know.” Milly handed him the guest book to sign. “Here you are.” She handed him the key. “Would you like a spot of lunch?” Alasdair shook his head. “Then you can have a lie in before supper.”

  Alasdair nodded his thanks and took the side door to the stairs and the dark upper floor.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Your Worst Nightmare

  Like every other evening, the pub was crowded and it seemed like the locals of Drerie never tired of having fun. Alasdair passed through the village of Kent once or twice in a quarter. He had enjoyed his overnight stay at the Drerie Haunt last time he had stopped by. He was more than thankful to have a bite to eat and a bed to sleep in.

  Amidst the boisterous multitude of people enjoying their evening, Alasdair, who had just ordered his food, carefully moved around looking for a table when he heard someone calling out for him.

  “Hey pal. How’s it going? It seems like you are lost, buddy. Come sit with us and we’ll show you how to have the best time of your life.” A group of drunk men roared with laughter and made weird noises to tease him.

  Alasdair kept his cool and ignored them altogether. He went to the farthest table in the corner where he would not be noticed. He liked his job. It kept him moving and people didn’t expect him to find someone and settle down. Not like Alasdair could, even if he tried. He had never been good with words, fumbling over them, never saying the right ones. Numbers he understood, and audits he understood. He got a certain level of respect when he showed up at the companies he was sent to.

  Meal finished, he sat back with his wine and observed the patrons in the pub. He had always enjoyed watching people. He had learned much from their behaviour, their body language. He was a dunce at applying this knowledge for social gain, but that was Alasdair’s curse to bear.

  A swathe of bright colours caught his eye and he saw a young girl sitting alone at a table. His vision was a bit hazy at this point but there was no doubting the striking beauty of the girl. To his surprise, she was staring right back.

  Alasdair looked behind him. Maybe there was a handsome young lad she was eyeing, but no, there was no one behind him. Alasdair turned back to find the girl sitting at his table.

  If she had been beautiful from afar, she was stunning up close. Alabaster skin smooth as silk, dark eyes under heavy lashes, and hair so black it shone blue under the light. She had a pointed chin and small teeth peeked through red lips.

  “I hate seeing people dine alone,” she said. “Want me to keep you company?”

  Alasdair swallowed. He had never been approached by a woman before, let alone such a beautiful one. He was lost for words.

  “I… well… Are you alone?” he stammered.

  She laughed. It was high and musical, like glass chandeliers tinkling in a slow wind.

  “Not anymore.” The girl placed a hand on Alasdair’s. It was cold and made him shiver.

  “You’re cold.” He said.

  “Will you warm me?” the girl raised a perfectly arched brow.

  Alasdair flushed red. He could feel her toes stroking his pants legs. Her face was glowing with warmth and bewitching light. His breath was shallow and he could feel himself stirring. Was this really happening? How had nobody else spotted this delectable young girl? Why was she interested in him?

  And then it came to him. She must be a local scarlet woman. No wonder no one wanted to have anything to do with her. That’s why she was giving him all her attention, being that he was obviously a traveller. Maybe she wasn’t allowed upstairs…

  “Would they be mad?” Alasdair nodded his head towards the bar where the owner’s daughter poured drinks.

  “Not if we’re careful.” The girl bent low and kissed Alasdair’s hand. His throat went dry. He took a large gulp of his beer.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Aishe,” she said, her smile teasing and playful, full of promises. “But you can know so much more than my name.”

  Alasdair giggled nervously. Was he going to do this? He expected he was.

  “You should walk beside me so the girl at the bar can’t see you.” Alasdair got up on unsteady feet. Aishe took his arm and steadied him. He was more than a head taller than she was. She looked like a pixie in her colourful dress and he couldn’t wait to see what was underneath. The thought made him blush and stumble.

  They managed to climb th
e stairs without being seen. There was a moment when Alasdair thought they were caught but it was only a creak on the floor below. Giggling like a school boy, Alasdair opened his bedroom door and nearly fell onto the bed.

  Aishe walked into the darkness, glowing like a lantern. Alasdair sat in awe. Something niggled in the back of his befuddled mind. What was it that bothered him about this?

  “Wait,” he grinned foolishly. “I haven’t turned the lights on.” He reached for the lamp but then paused. The room was bathed in blue light. How was this possible? Was there a second source of light? Had he left the bathroom light on?

  There was no bathroom within the room though.

  Alasdair turned back to the glowing girl, his hackles rising as he realized the light was coming off of her in waves. She was still beautiful, but it was a terrible beauty. Her hair flowed out behind her like a head of live snakes, her eyes were holes of blackness, her teeth were pointed at the edges and her mouth a shining red in a pale white face.

  “Who… what are you?” Alasdair cowered on the bed as the figure came closer.

  “Your worst nightmare,” she whispered and flew at him.

  *

  Milly checked her watch for the tenth time.

  “Dad! I’m running late!” Milly whined.

  “Hold your horses.” Bob grumbled. He placed fried eggs on a plate of baked beans, tomatoes and crisp bacon. “Just the toast,” he said.

  Milly stared at him. He stared back.

  Ding!

  “Finally!” Milly rolled her eyes.

  Bob placed the toast in a basket and handed the tray to Milly. She hurried out of the kitchen, keeping an eye on the windows at the front to make sure Sean hadn’t arrived yet. Leave it to an unexpected customer to ruin the only day she had off.

  She clambered up the stairs. They were perpetually gloomy and Milly made a mental note to fix the lights. Arriving outside Alasdair’s room, she balanced the tray on one hand and knocked.

  Cocking her ears to hear any sign of movement, Milly stood stalk still.

  Nothing.

  She knocked again.

  It wasn’t unusual for guests to sleep in and then grumble about being woken up when they had requested breakfast. Milly hoped Alasdair wasn’t one of those guests.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Milly rapped her knuckles one final time. “I’m here with the breakfast you asked for.”

  The door clicked and swung open.

  “Morning, sir.” Milly walked in and placed the tray on the small bedside table.

  The bed was made. There was no luggage, no dirty clothes or towels on the chair. The room looked like no one had been in since Val cleaned up yesterday.

  Milly went down the hall to check whether Alasdair was in the communal bathroom. She wouldn’t put it past the strange man to take all his luggage into the toilet with him for safekeeping.

  The bathroom was empty.

  Has he left while we were asleep? Milly wondered. She went back to the room to retrieve the tray. She took a bite of bacon as she thought about the guest’s strange disappearance. The mystery had taken over and she was no longer concerned about Sean or being late for a tour of the village.

  “That’s for the guest, Mil!” Val screeched as Milly entered the main pub.

  “He isn’t in. Did he check out when we were asleep?”

  “That’s not possible.” Val mused. “I’ve been up since five. I would have noticed him leave.”

  “His luggage isn’t up there. And the bed hasn’t been slept in…” Milly frowned. “Do you think he left last night? I don’t know how though, because he wasn’t walking straight when he went up to bed.”

  “Strange,” Val commented, taking a rasher of bacon. “Isn’t that your tour guide?” she said looking out the window.

  Milly turned around to see Sean was waving at her from across the street. All thoughts of the vanishing guest fled her mind as she thrust the plate in her mother’s hands and went running out the door.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  The Girl Aged Five

  The girl sat by the window and watched the children playing on the street. She longed to go out and play with them, but her guardian, the physician, wouldn’t allow it. Every evening she’d sit by the window to watch the children play.

  Through heavily lashed eyes she could see the ball rolling from one foot to the other. A group of girls ran about holding dolls and little cups of tea. They all looked so carefree and happy. She didn’t know what that felt like.

  Biting her lip, she tied the last knot and surveyed the tatty ball in her hands. It was as big as her fist and made entirely out of torn rags tied together. There was a high chance it would unravel on the first throw but she was immensely proud of it.

  She threw the ball into the air. It fell with a flat thud on the floor. She sighed and was about to step down from her chair when something miraculous happened.

  The ball started to roll.

  It was slow at first, but gradually picked up speed as it made a beeline for the dark corner behind her chest of drawers. She sat stalk still. The ball was on the floor, and then it wasn’t. It hovered in the air amidst a black shadow.

  Music reached her ears as if from a great distance. It was a soothing lullaby that she remembered from a long time ago.

  The shadows moved and a woman appeared in front of her. The girl shrank and brought her legs close to her chest, where she held them tightly, like a turtle hides under his shell when it senses danger. The woman’s eyes were shaped like almonds and her black hair was untied, its locks covering the roundness of her cheeks. The woman bent low till she was at eyelevel with the little girl.

  The woman smiled the warmest and the most welcoming smile the little girl had ever seen. “Would you like to play with me?” The woman said, smiling at her. “It’s ok, I won’t hurt you. In fact, I am here to protect you.” The woman extended her hand to the girl invitingly.

  The girl looked at her, trying to figure out what she was. She wasn’t like anyone she had seen before. “Who are you? Is it safe to touch you? Why do you look like smoke that comes out of the chimney?” She took a deep breath after the trail of questions.

  “Do you want to play outside with me? Let’s go for a walk.” The woman asked.

  The girl stepped off her chair eagerly when the door unlocked suddenly.

  The physician stood in the doorframe, tall and foreboding. The girl shrank back.

  “What the hell is going on? Who are you talking to, you little brat?” The physician’s voice didn’t rise above a whisper but it made the girl flinch in fear.

  The girl broke into tears when the physician walked into the room. She started when he placed a hand on her head, then yelped when he gripped her hair in a punishing fist.

  “There was a woman there.” She pointed in the direction of the ghost but the doctor couldn’t see her.

  Hs nostrils flared up in anger and he tightened his grip, dragging her towards the corner of the room where he threw her on the floor.

  His whisper was a caress that stung her like a sharp blade. “Filthy rotten egg, now you are going to play games with me? You wait till I show you how to play games, you little bastard.”

  He left the girl crying all alone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  The Second Guest

  A week had gone by since Alasdair mysteriously left the Haunt, and Milly was obsessed with it. Bob and Val were at their wits end because her phone bill had been staggering. They had confiscated her phone and warned her against calling people all over England to enquire about the whereabouts of one Alasdair McQueen.

  It was a dreary Tuesday evening when the second lodger arrived. Sean and Brian were monopolising Milly at the bar, telling her hilarious tales of their school days. The regulars were about the pub being served by Norman who looked as shifty as always.

  The doorbell tinkled and in walked an old gentleman. He was a stranger to these parts what with his studded leather jacket and tattooed arms. Hi
s beard was long and unkempt and his boots were caked with mud.

  The pub sat silent as the man walked towards the bar. Sean and Brian parted like the Red Sea to give the man clearer access to Milly.

  He had a piercing blue stare.

  “You got rooms for the night?” his voice was gruff and deep.

  “Yes.” Milly couldn’t bring herself to smile cheerfully. The man looked dangerous.

  “I got left behind by my gang.” The man leaned on the bar. His arm was as thick as Brian’s torso. “Need a place to put my feet up for the night. You got good grub?”

  “The finest,” Sean piped in. “I come here to avoid me Ma’s cooking.”

  Brian laughed weakly.

  “I’ll have a bite to eat then.”

  “I’ll need your name for the register. It’s £10 a night, sir.”

  “Robert.” The man was taking a look at the selection of ales and drinks written in the back. “I’ll also have a glass of Pinot Noir with my dinner.”

  That threw Milly off. Picturing a hairy masculine biker like Robert sipping a glass of red wine was so absurd she was tempted to laugh.

  “I’ll place your order and get your room sorted, sir.”

  Robert chose a secluded spot, brought out reading glasses and a rolled-up paperback from his back pocket and began to read. Milly brought his meal, wine, and room key. The pub goers assessed that the man who looked like a hairy beast was in reality a gentle soul, and contended themselves to go about their usual topics of conversation.

  The evening wore on. Robert finished his glass of Pinot Noir, and then another, and then another. It was close to eleven when he got up to retire to his room. Despite the alcohol in his system, he was clearheaded when he entered the gloomy hall. He flipped the switch once but the lights refused to work.

  “Shoddy place,” Robert muttered. He began to climb the steps.

  Someone laughed in the gloom.

  Robert stopped. He looked around, the hairs on the back of his neck on end. It had been a girlish twitter, usually employed by young teenage girls too full of life and its promises to be cynical or even polite.