“I was almost at the top of the stairs when the lights went out. The shock of being plunged into darkness caught me unawares, and I almost tripped over the next step before regaining my balance. I waited for a moment to try and accustom my eyes to the pitch dark. I could hear the loud ticking of the grandfather clock at the top of the stairs, and that at least gave me some idea of how far away I was from the landing.
“I cautiously made my way to the top, wishing that I had had the foresight to bring a lantern with me. But to be fair, how was I to know that the generator would suddenly decide to pack up at that very moment? I managed to make it to my bedroom without incident, and once there I quickly undressed and climbed under the covers. Sleep claimed me within a few minutes.
“I was woken by the sound of a persistent banging, which permeated my sleep. It was almost as if someone was desperate to either gain entry, or to escape from somewhere they were being held prisoner. I opened my eyes and squinted and blinked to try and bring myself back from the land of dreams. With the curtains drawn I could barely make out any of the unfamiliar shapes and shadows which pervaded the darkness.
“I sat up in bed for a moment and listened intently for a repeat of the noise which had caused me to stir. But there was nothing other than the relentless ticking from the grandfather clock on the landing. I waited for what seemed at the time to be an age, but I could not hear anything else. The house appeared to be quite still. The thought of stumbling about in the dark did not appeal, so I decided that the noise which had caused me to wake had only been part of a dream, the contents of which I could not remember at that moment.
“I was just about to lie back down and continue my rest when a sudden urge came about, and I decided that I would not be able to fall back to sleep without using the water closet first. Reluctantly I threw back the covers and welcomed in a shaft of freezing air, which caused my whole body to shiver involuntarily. I decided not to bother fumbling with a lantern, as I knew that the toilet was only a few feet away along the corridor.
“Having relieved myself I made my way back to bed and to the relative warmth of my covers. The minute my head hit the pillow, I heard it again. This time there could be no doubt. It was not part of a dream, or a trick of the night. I could hear the banging in the distance as surely as I could hear the clock outside. In the darkness I tried to decipher from where the banging emanated, and it did not take long for me to conclude that it was coming from somewhere downstairs. I threw back the covers once more and shuffled my way to the mantlepiece to grab the lantern. Once I had managed to light the fuse and replace the glass cover I located my clothes and dressed hurriedly, and grabbed my keys before I made my way out on the landing and over to the top of the staircase.
“The banging was intermittent, but still no less urgent, so I crept down the stairs one at a time, keeping my balance by holding onto the side bannister. As I reached the bottom of the staircase it became apparent that the banging was not coming from behind the front door, but rather from somewhere at the back of the house. I lifted the lantern so that I could check the time on my wristwatch; it was three fifteen. A thousand and one thoughts raced through my mind as to just who it might be hammering on my door at this ungodly hour of the morning. The only person that came to mind was possibly Jarrow, but what on earth would possess the man to think that whatever he wanted could not wait until a reasonable hour?
“At the sound of the next bout of hammering I suddenly began to feel extremely vulnerable, and my reserve - such as it was - started to wane. I immediately began to swing the lantern around me, hoping that I might be able to spot some sort of weapon in the arc of its light. Alas, there was nothing to hand which would suffice as a makeshift club. The banging grew more fervent, and I realised that there was nothing else for it but to find out what was going on. I considered leaving through the front door and circling the house so that I could surprise my early-morning visitor, and perhaps as a result gain the upper ground. But I reasoned that the noise the front door made on its rusty hinges whenever it was opened or closed would be more than enough to alert the caller anyway. So, instead, I decided to make my way through the kitchen and locate the source of the hammering before deciding what action to take.
“As I entered the kitchen, the frantic banging sounded once more. It was now obvious to me that the sound was coming from the door in the scullery which led out to the generator shed. How I wished at that moment that there was some way of magically causing all the lights in the house to come on simultaneously! If nothing else, it would have given me some much-needed assurance.
“I slowly made my way into the scullery. I was now able to see the back door for the first time. I lowered my lantern to allow me the best possible view through the glass, but to my surprise there were no shadows of anyone standing outside reflected in the frosted pane. I held my breath and waited. The moon must have been at the side of the house, but there was still enough light to illuminate the figure of someone had they been standing outside the door.
“It occurred to me that my unwanted visitor may have made their way around to the front of the house, as they had received no response from the back. For a moment I considered retracing my steps and making my way back to the front door, so that I could stand guard and fling the door open upon the first knock; thereby possibly surprising my visitor. But in that same split second there came another ferocious pounding on the scullery door, hard enough this time to rattle the wood in its frame.
“Overwhelmed, and seriously short on courage I am not afraid to admit, I took a deep breath and screamed out, demanding to know who was outside. I stood there in the semi-darkness, shivering as I waited for a reply, but none came. I called out again, this time insisting that I would not open the door unless whoever was outside identified themselves. Although there was still no evidence of a shadow from behind the door, to my astonishment I heard a tiny voice carried on the wind outside.”
“Please, help me!”
“There was a fierce wind blowing outside, and the cry was barely audible above the sound of it. The voice was female, and from what I could ascertain she sounded both desperate and terrified in equal measure. I lifted my lantern and examined the bunch of keys in my hand, trying to identify the correct one for the scullery door. It took me three attempts before I found the one that fit the lock.
“From outside I could hear the pitiful voice calling to me once more, and in my desperation to assist her I kept trying to turn the key the wrong way. Finally, I made it to my senses and I heard the bolt slot open inside the chamber. I grabbed the handle and, twisting it, wrenched the door open.
“Framed in the doorway stood a beautiful young woman, no more than nineteen or twenty at a guess, wearing a floral-print dress. She had long black hair cascading over her shoulders, and the most piercing green eyes I had ever seen. Although I only had a moment to take in her face I could not help but notice that her eyes held a faraway gaze in them, which seemed to convey a sadness which was the result of having experienced a great deal of suffering during her young life.
“I stood there for a second, transfixed by her beauty, as she looked at me in a way that made me feel as if she were capable of seeing right through me. But no sooner did she have me captivated and frozen to the spot, like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, she suddenly turned to her left and pointed off into the darkness.”
“They’re trying to take my baby, please help me, don’t let them take him!”
“The suddenness of her plea shattered my trance-like state, and brought me down to earth with a bump. I rushed out past her, my heart racing, and turned towards the direction she had indicated. I had no idea what I was about to face, or who I might be confronting, but at that moment it did not matter. This poor girl had come to me for help, miles from anywhere, and if I did not assist her in every way that I could I knew that I would never forgive myself for it.
“However, all I faced once I was outside were the sha
dows the moonlight cast across the vacant land of my property. I stood there for a moment, my lantern still by my side, trying to focus my gaze through the darkness for any sign of movement. But there was no sign of any assailant, nor was there any sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel drive, trying to make good their escape.
“I peered into the darkness for a little while longer, just to make sure that we were not being watched by someone crouching in the undergrowth, and once I was confident that all was clear I turned back to reassure the girl that she was safe now.
But she was nowhere to be seen!
I quickly turned back around, and as I did so I felt as if something as cold as ice had passed through me. I turned back, but I could still see no sign of the girl. It dawned on me that she must have run into the scullery whilst I was looking for her pursuers. I moved to the open doorway and lifted my lantern to peer inside. There was no sign of her. I called out to reassure her that I meant her no harm, but still there was no response. Either she had made her way deep inside the house so that she could not hear me, or more than likely she was within earshot but still too afraid to show herself.
“I slowly re-entered the scullery and announced in a loud, but gentle, voice, that I was about to close and lock the door behind me. Once I had done so, I stood there once more behind the door and announced to the young girl that she was perfectly safe and that I did not mean her any harm. As my announcement receive no response I carefully made my way through the scullery and back into the kitchen, checking each nook and corner with my lantern as I did so in anticipation of finding the poor girl crouched in a corner, in fear of her life. But, by the time that I had made my way back out into the main hallway, there was still no sign of her.
“I stood there for a moment, confident that my voice would reach most corners of the house, and called out to her once more, assuring her again that she was in no danger and that I only wanted to help her. Yet again, there was no response. I resigned myself to the fact that the girl was obviously so terrified that I would have to make a complete search of the house in order to locate her.
“It suddenly occurred to me that I knew nothing whatsoever about my uninvited guest, other than the fact that she had turned up at my back door in the middle of the night seeking refuge. For all I knew she might have been an escapee from some local hospital for the criminally insane, and could this very moment be waiting for me behind some darkened corner of the house with a huge carving knife she had found in the kitchen or even had concealed about her when she first arrived.
“I shook such thoughts from my mind, and decided that I needed to rationalise my imagination before I ended up jumping at my own shadow. I searched each room downstairs carefully and thoroughly, listening out all the while for the sound of footsteps creeping from one room to another.
“Once I was satisfied that the downstairs was clear, I made my way back up to the rooms on the first floor. I began a systematic search of every room, checking in cupboards and even under the beds, but it was to no avail. Having checked the bathrooms and the toilet I made my way up to the attic, surmising that there was nowhere else inside the house for the girl to be hiding.
“I called out yet again - as I had done sporadically throughout my search - as I made my way up the wooden flight to the top of the house. I shone my lantern all around, moving as close as necessary to each darkened corner to make sure that it was empty, before moving on to the next partition. By the time I had reached the last portioned off area of the attic and discovered that the girl was nowhere to be seen, I began to wonder if in fact she had never entered the house in the first place. Such was my concentration in seeking out her alleged pursuer that it was distinctly plausible that she could have crept back around the back of the house and turned the corner before I had turned back to find her missing. In which case I had just wasted the best part of an hour searching the house for nothing!
“Just then, I heard someone singing. It was a woman’s voice, high and pitch perfect, and the sweetness of the melody had me held in a trance for a moment as if all I wanted to do was stand there and listen.”
Jonathan looked up at the band, and nodded, as if in answer to a silent question which he somehow knew that they wanted to ask.
“Yes, it was the song you played at the end of your set this evening. It is a song that I will never be able to forget.”
The old man looked up as if trying to read something from an invisible prompt card or blackboard. Then he began to sing, his voice higher than those around him imagined it might sound.
As the waters run deep, so my soul yearns to soar.
On the wings of an eagle, I’ll wait nevermore.
In the arms of my true love, I will pause for my time.
So, hold me forever, until you are mine.
Cry for me my lover, ‘til the seas have run dry.
Never seek answers, and never ask why.
The path I am destined is not paved with gold,
But the warmth of your love, keeps out the cold.
So, sleep sound my baby till morning sunrise.
See the beauty around you, through your baby-blue eyes.
Know that I love you, and I’ll keep you from harm,
Until you are safe in the warmth of my arms.
There was a ripple of applause for his effort, and Jonathan acknowledged his audience with a smile. He took another sip of his beer to clear his throat before he continued with his story.
“Although I was in a tiny room and could see clearly that there was no one else in there with me, the voice sounded as if was all around me so the singer had to be nearby. I held my lantern out in front of me and walked back through the attic, re-checking every corner of each partition. The voice appeared to be everywhere, all around me, no matter where I went. But as for the singer, there was still no sign.
“I made my way back down to the landing, and as if on cue the flame from my lantern began to flicker. I lifted it up so that I could see the wick, and using the lever at the side, I adjusted it so that it was fully exposed. This afforded me a tad more illumination than before, and the flickering lessoned somewhat. As I stood poised on the landing, the singing sounded as if it was now coming from downstairs. The sweet voice echoed throughout the house, but definitely sounded to me at that moment as if it was coming from one of the downstairs rooms. But how could this be? I had already searched the downstairs thoroughly, without success.
Somewhat annoyed, I began to descend the stairs once again. But by the time I had reached half-way, the singing seemed to have changed direction and was now above me. I stood there unable to fathom what was going on. How could that girl have stayed hidden from me when I had searched the entire house from top to bottom? On top of which, if it had been her intention to remain hidden, why had she started singing if not to draw my attention?
As abruptly as the singing had started, it suddenly stopped!
All was silent for a split second, and then came an ear-piercing scream which permeated the air and cut straight through me like a razor-sharp knife.
“With the lantern in one hand I could not block the sound out by clasping my hands to my ears, so I had to endure it until it eventually stopped. I stood there, on the stairs, my mind a jumble of mostly irrational thoughts. If the girl was in the house, why had I not been able to find her? Likewise, if she was not, then where did the singing, and that horrendous scream, come from?
There was nothing else for it; I decided that I must search the entire house again. I carried my lantern into the front parlour, and located a second lantern there. I lit it, and swapped it for my original one, which was now starting to flicker once more. I made my way back out into the scullery, and began my new search with verve and determination. Sleep was now a distant memory; I was fully wide awake and felt that if I had tried to lie down at that moment, I would have remained awake for hours to come.
“I searched the entire house from the bottom up. As I moved from room to room I could almost hear
the earlier scream reverberating in my ears, and I was convinced that at any moment it would come again.
“This time my examination of the house took a little longer than before, as instead of merely swinging my lantern to try and see into all corners of the rooms I now made a point of actually walking over every part of each one, ensuring that I tried every cupboard, even those I knew would be far too small to hide a body.
“I could hear my heart starting to drum in my ears as I went about my investigation. This time I was sure that if that girl was in the house that I would find her, no matter what. But, yet again my efforts were in vain, and she was nowhere to be found.
“Eventually, I gave up my search and carried myself back up to bed. This time I kept the lantern burning on the night stand by my bed. The glow of its light offered me some much-needed comfort as I lay there gazing up at the ceiling.
“Just as I began to drift off, I could hear the sound of the girl singing her song once more. But this time I forced myself to keep my eyes closed, and finally I fell back to sleep.”
Eight
“Understandably, I spent the rest of the night in an extremely fitful state. When I did dream, my dreams were interspersed with visions of my early-morning visitor. Except this time my subconscious had somehow managed to twist and obscure her angelic features, so that now when she appeared to me, instead of being the beautiful young girl I had met all so briefly, she resembled some kind of hideous hag. Her mouth was now full of broken and crooked teeth which were stretched taut in a rictus grin. Her skin, so pure and perfect when we had met, now looked completely gaunt and seemed to have the texture of rough sandpaper, although it was bleached a sickly shade of pale off-white. Even her fingers no longer looked like those of a beautiful woman, and now resembled long, talon-like claws instead.
Ghost Song Page 8