The House on Findlater Lane

by Helen Goltz

  She liked him better when he was a bit vulnerable and real.

  ‘That would be our tenth chance at least,’ Holly reminded him. ‘Besides, what happened to the girl from the office?’

  ‘Long gone.’

  ‘And the girl from the gym?’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said, pulling out the papers and giving them to her. He had already signed them. Holly pushed a tea in front of him as he lowered himself onto a kitchen bench stool; she remained on the other side of the kitchen bench.

  She took a deep breath and, pulling the papers closer, began to read through them. This made it official; she was going to be divorced.

  Holly accepted the pen he pulled from his coat pocket, signed where required and gave him back the papers. James slid them back into the envelope. She was a divorcee; her marriage had failed, her vows were a lie, her commitment in the church just a joke… her love, still real.

  ‘Well, that’s that then,’ she said, her voice laced with sadness. ‘Five years and we’re over.’ She couldn’t see the Sergeant standing by her, offering her his silent support.

  James nodded. ‘When it was good, it was great.’ He smiled.

  Holly teared up, and nodded. ‘We had our moments.’ She smiled weakly.

  ‘But when we were bad, you were really bad,’ James said, and as Holly went to snap at him, he gave her a grin and a wink.

  ‘Yeah, you’ll keep,’ she said, with another faint smile. ‘Are you driving back tonight?’

  ‘I thought I’d stay here,’ he said.

  You’ve got to be kidding, the Sergeant snarled, and moved through James.

  ‘It’s bloody cold in here, isn’t it?’ James asked, looking around and shivering.

  Holly shrugged. ‘I didn’t notice. James, I really don’t want you staying here. I’m trying to move on and I want this house to be full of new memories. If you stay… well, it won’t be. I’ll see you in the rooms and feel you here. This place will be… well, tainted.’

  He held up his hand to stop her from talking. ‘Relax, I get it.’ James finished his tea. ‘I’ve got a date, anyway. Had to kill a few hours before I got here so I went to the local pub. Met a nice lady. I’m having dinner at her place, so I’ll probably crash there and head back tomorrow.’

  The knife went into her heart, just when she thought he couldn’t cause her any more pain. Holly couldn’t believe it. ‘Good-oh, don’t waste any time. A date… or a one-night stand? Whatever, don’t answer.’

  ‘Yeah, just a one-night stand, I’m not planning on coming back,’ he scoffed.

  She frowned and shook her head. ‘When did you become this person? Or maybe you were always like this and I didn’t see it.’

  ‘Maybe you bring out the worst in me.’ He put it back on her.

  Holly began to tear up.

  ‘I’m just kidding. For the love of God, lighten up,’ he said, and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m heading straight back to London. Don’t take me so seriously all the time!’

  She nodded. ‘Right. Lighten up. I’ll get onto that.’ She moved to the table and straightened the flowers in the vase.

  ‘Who gave you those?’ he asked.

  ‘C’mon. New girl in a small town… the grapevine works well here,’ she said, and inhaled them.

  ‘You are kidding me? You’ve been here two days and some guy has sent you flowers? The bloody eagles are circling!’

  Holly smiled. ‘I bought them. Lighten up, James.’

  ‘Oh, ha-ha,’ he said.

  Holly rolled her eyes. ‘I’m as pathetic as you. Anyway, thanks for dropping in.’

  ‘Right, I’d better go. A kiss for old time’s sake then?’ He gave her a smile that was part teasing, part charming and all brash.

  ‘As enticing as the offer is, I’ll have to refrain,’ she said, and started to move towards the front door to encourage his departure.

  ‘Always so sensible,’ he said, reaching for his jacket and putting it back on.

  ‘That’s me, although I did make a couple of reckless decisions along the way.’

  James grinned. ‘You know what they say, opposites attract. Or they did once.’ He grabbed her in a hug, placing his chin on her head and he held her for just a moment. He lowered his voice. ‘I know I was a shit husband, Hols, but if you ever need me, you can still call on me.’ He pulled away from her. ‘Yeah?’

  Holly couldn’t speak. She blinked back tears, gave him a nod and a smile.

  And with an air of enthusiasm for the future which she didn’t have yet, James strode to the door, gave her a wave and departed.

  She stood in the doorway and watched as he spun his car around and headed down the street. She watched until he was out of sight and she was alone.

  Holly didn’t know what to do. It was dusk, getting dark quickly and she was empty, and here. She couldn’t see the Sergeant striding nearby her, debating what to do and how to help.

  She slipped off her shoes and put on her joggers that were near the front door – she hadn’t brushed the sand off them from this morning – and, grabbing the key, she closed the front door and headed to the beach for a walk to clear her head and heart.

  Ms Hanlon meets the Sergeant

  ‘It’s too late to be heading out alone,’ the Sergeant said, knowing she couldn’t hear him until he chose to officially reveal himself. ‘For chrissake,’ he swore and leaving the house, he caught up with Holly. They walked alongside each other, Holly oblivious to his company.

  ‘You might not be in the city, but you’ve still got to take some care,’ he told her. He didn’t like to leave the house; she was ruining his desire to stay in and be grumpy.

  ‘Really, did I ask for this?’ he said, continuing to moan. ‘I should just go home and let you walk it off.’ But he couldn’t. It was almost dark and she shouldn’t be walking along the beach by herself at this hour.

  He had to admit, though, the beach was beautiful in the last moments of daylight; cool and quiet with only the occasional person on the beach now. Holly greeted a couple as they passed.

  ‘Forget him, love. He’s an ass, I wouldn’t waste any time moaning after him,’ the Sergeant advised her, even though she couldn’t hear or see him. ‘Don’t know what you saw in him in the first place. Hardly your type.’

  A woman and her little white dog approached them and the dog began to circle around the Sergeant, barking furiously. The dog’s owner laughed and shrugged.

  ‘He’s always been a bit eccentric,’ she said to Holly. ‘Have a good night.’

  ‘You too,’ Holly said, with a smile. She gave the dog a quick pat and watched it follow its owner, with the occasional look back. She glanced around her to make sure she was alone, looking right through the Sergeant. Then, a man about her own age with a large brown Labrador soon came into sight and his dog repeated the performance.

  ‘Hi, Buddy,’ she said, patting the excited dog who kept circling the Sergeant.

  ‘You know this guy?’ the Sergeant asked. ‘Nice doggy, for the love of God! Now, buzz off.’

  The dog cocked its head to the side, licked the Sergeant’s leg and ran off.

  The guy laughed and greeted Holly. ‘Yeah, he gets excited by the sand,’ he explained.

  Holly laughed. ‘Don’t we all!’

  ‘So, staying out of the water this time? No seahorses to rescue?’ he asked.

  ‘Not so far, but can’t promise I won’t dive back in any second. Once a hero…’

  The Sergeant stood with his arms crossed, watching the interchange between the two. Who is this bozo? She’s been here a minute and I’ve got an ex-husband and some guy with his dog already on the scene. Keep walking, mate, the Sergeant thought, willing the guy along.

  He watched as the pair exchanged a few more pleasantries and then continued on their way. Holly turned back to glance at him and he did the same. He gave her a wave and called for his dog, Buddy.

  Holly drew in a deep breath; the small bit of contact with the real world was helping to distr
act her. He could feel her pain, hear her heart and her thoughts. He remembered what farewells were like. He’d blown it with Meg once and she’d left him, but he’d won her back. Worst week of his life until he talked her around. Yep, he thought. Love sucks.

  Holly kept moving forward, one foot in front of the other. She greeted the nightfall walkers and their dogs and wished she had a dog to walk with – a trusted, loyal and loving companion; someone faithful. Seeing James had bounced her back to the past. She had regressed to where she’d been six months ago… to a place she’d crawled out of and left behind.

  She buried her hands into her sweatshirt pockets and breathed deeply. The cool air on her face and the salty air was so good, a great distraction.

  ‘I need to purge him from my heart and head… and home,’ she said, muttering to herself.

  The Sergeant nodded. ‘That you do,’ he agreed, not that she could hear him.

  She placed her hand on her heart as if the warm contact would help with the overwhelming pain in her chest.

  Why couldn’t I just take what James was prepared to give me? Love, fun, a life together? she asked herself. Because I wanted to be the only woman in his life, she reminded herself, and not just accept some part of him and have to continually hold back my love to protect my own heart. What’s the point?

  ‘I’m here to escape him. There’s no reminder of James here… he was here for a minute. Let it go, move on, carry on,’ she said, coaching herself. She put her head back and straightened her shoulders. ‘An exciting new start. Yep, that’s what this is.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ the Sergeant agreed.

  She turned around and began the walk back.

  ‘Good idea, let’s head home,’ he said.

  As they neared the cottage, Holly stopped to make small talk with the neighbour who was watering his pot plants. The Sergeant pondered whether returning to a dark and empty house was worse than returning to a lit, warm house even if a ghost had set the scene. So, while Holly and the neighbour introduced themselves, the Sergeant took the opportunity to unlock the front door and make the house feel not quite so deserted.

  Whatever, he thought, I need to declare myself, anyway. I’ve got plans, I need her to work for me.

  He slipped in through the front door, turned on the kitchen light and lounge room lamp, and then, he had just the thing. He knew what would pep her up; he knew just what she needed to hear. The Sergeant went to the collection of vinyl records… 1960s… nope… 1970s… he thumbed through the vinyl albums. Here it is, he thought, and pulled the record from its sleeve. He slipped it onto the turntable and hovered the needle. As he heard the front door open, he put the track on.

  She entered and saw the lights were on. Again, she stopped but it was different this time, he sensed it. Her heart rate wasn’t thundering, she wasn’t afraid. She was in need of kindness, some small show of solidarity. He watched as she looked around, looking for him. And then she heard the song and smiled, then laughed. Helen Reddy pumped out I am Woman.

  Holly said the words aloud… ‘Hear me roar!’ She laughed again, then cried, then the phone rang. She wiped her face on her sleeve and reached for the mobile phone. It was her mother.

  ‘Ah, a lecture… why not?’ she said, and sighed. She answered, putting her mother on speaker phone as she went to turn Helen Reddy down.

  ‘Oh good, you’re still alive,’ her mother said.

  ‘I am. You’ll be the first to hear when I’m not, I suspect. Everything okay?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Of course. I’m not the one who has deserted her job, family and friends to start a new life in a small village in a haunted house. I’m just living in suburbia with your father!’

  Holly laughed and her mother relaxed and chuckled along. They spoke for a few minutes and as Holly hung up, she heard a sharp knock at the front door.

  ‘What now?’ she muttered. ‘Ghost busters?’

  The Sergeant watched her as she headed towards the front door with a worried look on her face.

  ‘Don’t worry, love,’ he muttered, ‘it’s not the ex-husband back again.’

  She opened the door and froze.

  There was a man in the doorway who looked very familiar. This is ridiculous, the Sergeant thought, as she studied him on the front doorstep of Findlater House. I’m introducing myself to someone living in my house, technically. Still, it’s better than just appearing and going ‘Boo’ like bloody Casper the friendly ghost.

  He brushed off his annoyance as he watched her process him. She was a looker; cute. Focus, he told himself.

  She smiled politely but he could tell she was desperately trying to work out where she knew him from.

  The Sergeant cleared his throat. ‘Uh, hello, you must be Holly,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘Hi.’ Her eyes ran over his jeans and black collared shirt.

  ‘I thought I should introduce myself,’ he said, with a casual shrug, ‘given we’re going to be –’

  ‘– Ah, you’re a neighbour?’ Holly cut him off.

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ the Sergeant said.

  Holly’s eyes widened with sudden recognition.

  ‘Um yes, that’s me,’ he said, with a glance to his portrait on the wall opposite that was currently empty. She turned her head and gasped, then turned back to look at him.

  ‘I’m Alexander Austen, Sergeant Alexander Austen,’ he said, with a nod to the empty portrait frame.

  He watched as she backed away until she hit the bottom stair of the staircase and lowered herself down to sit on it before she fell down.

  The Sergeant gets a housemate

  ‘Sergeant Austen…’ she mumbled, ‘Alexander…’

  ‘Yes, call me that, good idea, let’s not stand on formality given we, uh, live together. Can I come in?’ he asked, stepping over the threshold. ‘Well technically, I’m already in. Living here, actually.’

  Holly still stared at him. Her eyes were huge.

  ‘No need to panic, truly, I’m a nice guy, handsome even.’ He smiled. That usually worked, but Alexander noticed she didn’t even register his charm factor. Only a matter of time, he thought.

  ‘Perhaps I should make some tea,’ he said.

  ‘You drink tea?’ Holly asked, snapping out of her state of reverie.

  ‘I’m British.’

  ‘Right, of course,’ Holly said, ‘I mean, you can make tea?’

  Alexander shrugged. ‘Sure, any ghost can push stuff around.’

  ‘Right, yes,’ she said, again, as if everyone should know that. Alexander watched as she gingerly pulled herself up from the bottom stair. ‘I’m Holly Hanlon.’ She offered him her hand, then pulled it back. ‘Sorry, do ghosts shake… I mean, can they shake…?’

  ‘Why not?’ he said and took her small hand in his. Her hand was warm, he felt the blood and skin and all things lifelike about it. His hand, on the other hand, was chilly. She pulled her hand away quickly, still looking at him with a shocked expression. Eventually, she registered the chill of his cold hand and casually rubbed her hand against her jeans.

  ‘Sorry, occupational hazard,’ he said, and turned to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She watched as he looked at the water level on the kettle, flicked the switch down to start it heating up and nudged two cups into the centre of the counter. He knew where everything was.

  ‘Well, kettle’s on,’ Alexander said, and turned to face her.

  ‘Right, noted,’ she said.

  They stared at each other. Alexander wondered should he say something or let her get her wits about her.

  Holly stepped up. ‘So, you’re not transparent then?’ she said.

  ‘No, apparently not.’

  ‘You look very solid,’ she agreed. Holly glanced again into the living room, at the portrait frame which was empty, then back to the Sergeant.

  ‘Yep, still here,’ he said.

  ‘You’re here and drinking tea. You are real, and I can see you and touch you. I am awake,’ she said,
convincing herself.

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded, slightly amused by her study of him. ‘Are you thinking of writing down this sort of detail?’ he asked, one eyebrow raised and a smile on his face.

  ‘No, yes, I don’t know. Do you think I should? No, that’s silly, who would believe me? A ghost manual,’ she said, and stopped, realising she was raving. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Holly pulled out a chair for him.

  ‘Yes, probably best,’ he said, and sat on the chair at the kitchen table.

  ‘Will you sit, too?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, yes, sure,’ she said, lowering herself into a chair opposite. ‘So, you’ve been here all along. How come you didn’t show yourself sooner?’

  ‘It’s only been two days,’ he said.

  ‘Wow, so it has. It feels like longer,’ she said. Alexander noticed that she was trying not to stare at him, but her eyes ran over his face, hands and features. ‘Were you just walking beside me on the beach?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. You shouldn’t go out by yourself when it’s getting dark. It’s not always safe, even here in this village,’ he said, watching her. ‘Even though you don’t care if you live or die at the moment.’

  She looked away, embarrassed and moved to pour the water from the boiling kettle into the teapot.

  ‘I don’t usually make a pot,’ she said, as though she had to fill the silence until the situation became real or she woke from a dream. ‘If it’s just me, I stick a teabag into a mug, but this is nice, I think,’ she said. ‘I don’t what I’m saying… for the love of God, I’m making tea for a ghost!’ Holly shook her head. She turned to place the teapot on the coaster in the middle of the table, and the Sergeant was still there.

  ‘Yep, not a dream,’ he said, reading her expression.

  She gave a wary smile, put a warmer over the teapot and put out two cups and saucers. ‘I’ve got milk, and some biscuits,’ she said. ‘Do ghosts eat… never mind.’