The Haunting of the Crowford Hoy (The Ghosts of Crowford Book 5)

by Amy Cross

  “I see you,” she said as she managed to spot the girl's skull, which was partly impaled on a metal hook that ran up through the underside of the jaw. “What happened to you?” she continued. “Did you climb down there to hide, but you slipped and...”

  For a moment, she imagined the poor girl falling in the tight, confined space. If the hook had pierced the underside of her jaw and broken through into her mouth, she would have been trapped; if she'd been knocked out, she could have simply bled to death. Either that, or she'd never have been able to call for help in time. Sure enough, some of the brickwork behind the skull seemed to be stained with something dark.

  “Annie,” she whispered, as she began to reach through to pull the skull clear. “You poor -”

  Suddenly she heard another rustling sound over her shoulder. She turned, half expecting to see Annie's ghost, but instead she was horrified by the sight of Mildred Weaver.

  ***

  “Where did she go?” Matt asked, getting to his feet and looking all around. “Did it work? Did we make her leave?”

  “I fear not,” Ernest replied, “but I don't know why she would have -”

  Before he could finish, Sally screamed in the cellar.

  “I'm coming!” Matt shouted, rushing to the door, only for it to slam shut before he could get through. He immediately grabbed the handle and tried to pull it open again, but this time he found that some invisible force was keeping it firmly in place.

  Sally's cries began to fade, and Matt couldn't help thinking back to the moment when Mildred had almost choked him to death.

  “Sally!” he shouted, as he slammed his fists against the door. “Hold tight, I'm going to get you out of there!”

  He looked around for something he could use to break the door down. Spotting nothing, he took a few steps back and then threw himself against the door, trying to smash his way through using his shoulder. To his surprise, however, the door was surprisingly sturdy, and he let out a grunt of pain as he fell back and hit the bar.

  “What the hell is that thing made of?” he muttered, before launching himself at the door again, only to find that it once more failed to yield.

  “There has to be another way to end this,” Ernest said, as he shuffled over to the fireplace and used his cane to try to pull the spirit board clear of the flames. Already, the board's edges were starting to blacken and curl.

  “She's going to kill Sally!” Matt shouted, trying the handle again, still finding that the door was fixed firmly in place.

  “We need three people,” Ernest continued, finally managing to get the board to the edge of the fire. Although the board was badly burned around the edges, the central section was still just about intact. “We need...”

  His voice trailed off for a moment as he began to come up with the first vestiges of a new plan.

  “Matthew!” he called out finally, turning and looking back across the room. “Get here now! I know what to do!”

  “I have to get Sally out of the cellar!” Matt replied.

  “There's only one way to stop Mildred Weaver,” Ernest said firmly, “and that means using this thing.”

  “You said it yourself, we need three people!”

  Setting the board on the floor, Ernest winced as he slowly began to kneel. Leaning heavily on his cane, he let out a gasp of pain.

  “We have three people,” he muttered, before looking over at Annie's ghost as she continued to hide behind the table and chairs in the far corner. “Sort of. Annie, I know you can hear me, and I know you're scared, but there's a way to end all of this and keep you safe at the same time. If you say goodbye to Mildred with us, there's a chance that you'll be severing any connection you might have with her. I can't guarantee that it'll work, but it's the only option right now.”

  He held a hand out toward her.

  “Annie, please.”

  Still hiding, Annie turned and looked at him, her terrified face just about visible from behind the chairs.

  “Annie,” he said again, as Matt hurried back over to the board. “I'm begging you.”

  Annie stared at him for a moment longer, before finally turning and starting to crawl out. She got to her feet, but then she hesitated again as she looked around for any sign of Mildred's return.

  “We have to hurry!” Ernest told her. “While she's distracted! Please, look past your fear and help us!”

  “She's killing Sally!” Matt shouted at the girl. “Even if you won't do this for us, can't you do it for her?”

  Annie stared at the board for a moment longer, before taking a step forward.

  Suddenly Mildred Weaver's ghost reappeared right in front of the terrified girl, causing her to immediately turn and run. Mildred rushed after her, but Annie clambered back behind the table and then faded from view. As Mildred screamed and pulled the chairs aside, Matt turned and looked around the room.

  “We have to find her!” he stammered. “Where did she go?”

  “She's right here,” Ernest said.

  Turning, Matt saw that Annie was now kneeling in front of the board, and he watched as she reached out and touched the marker with a finger. Ernest immediately did the same, and then Matt dropped to his knees and added his finger too, just as Mildred's ghost rushed at the three of them.

  “Spirit!” Ernest shouted. “It's time to go! Goodbye!”

  With that, they moved the marker together to the word Farewell, and then they all turned and looked just as Mildred snarled and lunged at Annie. Just as her hand was about to reach the girl's throat, however, Mildred's ghost vanished from sight and her angry cry faded into the cold air. Annie flinched and began to pull away, before realizing that the woman was gone.

  A fraction of a second later, the cellar door finally creaked open.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Sally!” Matt shouted as he rushed down the stairs. “Sally, can you hear me?”

  As soon as he reached the bottom, he saw that Sally was slowly getting to her feet on the far side of the cellar. He raced over to help her, and then – as he made sure she was steady – he looked at the nearby wall and saw that it had been smashed open to reveal parts of a little skeleton.

  “What the...”

  “It's her,” Sally gasped, reaching up and touching her neck, which bore sore patches that had been caused by Mildred's icy grip. “It's Annie.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, although he immediately realized that the question was somewhat foolish. “I guess... Who else could it be, right?”

  “I think she climbed in there to hide from Mildred all those years ago,” Sally explained, “but she must have fallen in the dark. There was some kind of hook poking out and it caught her jaw. She must have been knocked out, or maybe the hook meant she couldn't call for help. And then she bled to death.” She turned to Matt. “We have to get the bones out of here. Mildred might come back at any moment.”

  “Mildred's gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “We took care of it. We closed the session, with a little help from Annie herself.”

  “That explains why Mildred suddenly left me alone. She must have sensed what you were doing up there.”

  “So Annie's body has been down here all this time, huh?” Matt said, unable to stop looking at the bones. After a moment, he spotted the skull and saw that the jaw was still hooked on the piece of metal that jutted out from the wall. “I'm not about to try to rehabilitate Mildred or anything like that, but I guess she was right about one thing. She didn't murder the kid.”

  “Most people thought she did, though,” Sally pointed out. “I kind of understand how that must have driven her out of her mind.”

  ***

  “Something seems different, don't you think?” Ernest said as he picked up the damaged spirit board and dusted away a few flakes of ash. “The atmosphere here feels... more free, somehow.”

  “So Annie was able to take part in the session?” Sally asked as Matt helped her over to the table. “Even though s
he was dead?”

  “The remains in the cellar will have to be taken away and examined,” Ernest continued, “but it's hard to believe that they don't belong to the little girl. Once they're out of the pub, it's possible that her ghost will leave too, although I have a hunch that she might stick around. Now that she's said goodbye to Mildred, any connection between them has been severed and she should be left alone. Besides, Mildred will hopefully rest in peace now that her innocence has been demonstrated.”

  “I actually feel sorry for her,” Matt admitted. “In a way. I mean, people really thought that she'd killed Annie. She was accused of doing one of the worst things imaginable.”

  Sally looked at him, and then she turned away.

  “This should not be left out in the open,” Ernest muttered, shuffling over to the fireplace and tossing the board into the flames, then watching as it burned away. “It might look like a toy, but it's not. I hope we've all learned tonight that communicating with the dead is seldom a good idea. And now, if you don't mind, it's getting very late and the sun will be coming up soon. Would someone mind giving me a lift home?”

  “Would you mind taking him?” Sally asked, fishing the car keys from her pocket and handing them to Matt. “I just need to sit down for a few minutes. After all, Mildred Weaver almost strangled me.”

  “Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?” Matt asked.

  “No, I'll be fine, but I don't think I'm quite up to driving. And I'll be okay alone here now. I could do with some time to figure things out.”

  “I'll be quick,” he told her. He wanted to say more, but he figured that he could save that for later. “When I get back,” he added, “we'll call the cops and tell them everything. After more than half a century, the mystery of little Annie Ashton's disappearance has finally been solved.”

  “Yeah,” she said, with a hint of sadness in her voice. “We did it.”

  ***

  “Do you know something?” Ernest said half an hour later, as Matt helped him into the armchair at his house on Maddale Street. “I might actually be a little tired. I think I might take a little nap in a minute.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you before I go?” Matt asked.

  “No, you've done enough already, dragging me out on this grand adventure.” He reached out and patted the side of Matt's arm. “Thank you for that. Sincerely. I don't venture out much these days, but it was good to get the blood pumping again. You should probably warn the landlord, however, that he might notice a few extra unusual moments for a while. Even though we dealt with Mrs. Weaver's ghost, any other spirits in the building might be a little easier to spot for a few years. I wouldn't mind betting that The Crowford Hoy becomes something of a hub for supernatural activity in the town.”

  “I don't know what we'd have done without you,” Matt replied, before taking the note from his pocket and looking once again at the strangely familiar handwriting. “Do you have any idea who might have left this for us? Whoever they were, they seemed to know that we needed help.”

  “Let me take a look,” Ernest muttered, peering more closely at the note. “Do you see the curve on the letter M there? It's not definitive, of course, but I recall seeing that several times before. It was a curious habit of men from the colliery to write like that. At least, the first few generations who'd come down from the north.”

  “Men from the colliery?” Matt paused. “Then what -”

  Before he could finish, he realized exactly where he'd seen the handwriting before. He stared down at the note in astonishment, telling himself that he had to be wrong, but with each passing second he felt more and more certain that he was right.

  “Do you recognize it now?” Ernest asked.

  “It looks like my father's writing,” he said cautiously, “but it can't be. I mean, he's been dead for years.”

  “I would have thought that if tonight has taught you anything,” Ernest replied, “it's that the dead are still sometimes able to interfere in the affairs of the living. Sometimes helping out, sometimes causing trouble, even if we don't necessarily know that they're there.”

  “But...”

  Matt stared at the note for a moment longer, before turning to Ernest again.

  “I saw men at the pit,” he said after a few seconds. “Yesterday morning. You were there too, and I saw men down there at the pit even though I know the place is empty during the strike.”

  “I have no doubt that all of those things happened exactly as you described them,” Ernest replied.

  “But... how?” Matt asked.

  “Not all ghosts are there to be seen, or to take revenge,” Ernest explained. “I don't remember encountering you out there, but that doesn't mean that we didn't meet. It simply means that time can shift a little. I can't claim to entirely understand how that happens, but the important thing is to be open to the possibilities.” He looked at the note again. “I remember meeting your father out there once, and you do look a lot like him. I suppose it's possible that a little confusion seeped in. These things can happen, especially close to the end of a life. And I must accept that my time will soon draw to a close.”

  “Did my father really leave this tonight?” Matt asked. “To help us?”

  “That's certainly possible. All that really matters now is that the session with the spirit board is closed, and that the people who opened that session were able to say goodbye properly. Now, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but don't you have a rather lovely young lady to get back to?”

  “I do,” Matt replied. He still had so many questions, but he was starting to realize that he might not get many answers from the old man. “You're right, I should go and make sure that she's okay.”

  He headed to the door, but then he hesitated as he thought back to something Ernest had said. At first he didn't want to bring the matter up, but a niggling sense of fear was starting to rise through his chest.

  “You said that the people who opened the session were able to say goodbye to Mildred Weaver properly,” he said, turning to Ernest again, “but... technically, I'm the only one who was present both times. Jane's dead and Sally was down in the cellar. Does it matter that Sally didn't say goodbye to Mildred's ghost?”

  Ernest stared at him for a moment, and slowly a sense of dread began to cross his features.

  “Go back there immediately!” he barked. “Don't wait for me! Go back to the pub and get her out before it's too late!”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Stepping into her room at The Crowford Hoy, Sally stopped for a moment as she realized that she wasn't alone. She listened, trying to work out what had alerted her to a presence nearby, but all she heard was silence.

  “Hello?” she said cautiously.

  She looked around, but there was still no sign of anyone else in the room.

  “You don't have to be scared anymore,” she added. “I promise I won't hurt you.”

  Ever since Matt had left with Ernest Dwyer, Sally had been tidying the pub, hoping to make sure that Jerry would notice nothing amiss whenever he eventually returned. She'd more or less succeeded, although a few matters – such as the scratched message on the wall, and the damage in the cellar – would have to be explained. She'd begun to feel strangely calm, as if getting on with actual work had helped mark an end to the night's strange activities. Now, however, she felt that flickering hint of doubt in her mind as she wondered whether a ghostly little presence might yet remain.

  “Annie?” she whispered. “If you're here, it's okay to let me know.”

  She hesitated, and then – feeling as if she was being watched – she slowly turned and saw the ghostly figure of Annie Ashton standing in the doorway that led to one of the other rooms.

  “Hey,” Sally said softly.

  Annie stared at her and, after a moment, furrowed her brow.

  “You were very brave tonight,” Sally continued. “You must have been scared.”

  “Is she gone?” Annie asked cautio
usly.

  “I think she might still be around,” Sally explained, “but she won't be able to hurt you. I don't think she'll be able to hurt anyone, she'll just sort of drift through the rooms, separated from the living and the dead. That's how I understand it, at least. The important thing is that you said goodbye to her, and Mr. Dwyer says that means she can't hurt you anymore.”

  She paused for a moment, worried about scaring the girl away, and then she took a step forward. Although Annie flinched, she didn't run away, so Sally edged a little closer before crouching down in front of her. For a few seconds, she could only stare into the eyes of the dead girl and marvel at what she was seeing; she knew that Annie had been dead for something like sixty years, and she also knew that seeing her at all was some kind of miracle. She wanted to reach out and touch her, but she managed to restrain herself.

  “I want you to know,” she continued, “that we're going to get some people to come and take your bones out of the wall. They'll be very careful and very respectful, but they'll probably want to run some tests on them.”

  “What kind of tests?” she asked.

  “I don't exactly know, but they'll want to make sure that it's really you.”

  “It's really me,” she replied. “I remember what happened.”

  “Was it quick?” Sally asked. “Was it painless?”

  “No,” Annie said. “It hurt a lot. I couldn't call for help. I couldn't climb out. I couldn't do anything. All I could do was hang there in the dark and hope that someone found me. I heard Mildred shouting my name for days, and slowly I started to get weaker. She was trying really hard to find me, and sometimes she was right on the other side of the wall. I even heard her taking a look at the gap, but I think she didn't really believe that I could have fitted through. I was so hungry and cold and scared but... that's okay. It was a long time ago now.”