“I decided that I would try and make a point of coming into town earlier one day, to allow me the chance to visit his grave properly.
“Having finished my pint, I took my empty glass back up to the bar, and complimented the landlord on the quality of his ale. He informed me that it was a local favourite; so much so that he sold it bottled for take-away, so I could not resist purchasing several bottles to take back with me.
“I still had some time to spare before calling Jenifer, so I re-visited the shop where I had bought my provisions the day before and purchased some more supplies for dinner. Whilst there I noticed that they had a transistor radio for sale so I decided to treat myself, as the thought of listening to some tranquil music during dinner seemed extremely inviting.
“I took my purchases back to my car, and locked them away. As the late afternoon drew in I began to wonder if I should expect another late night - or more precisely early morning - wake-up call from my unwanted visitor. It may have just been coincidence, as the wind had started to pick up as I made my way back to my car. But I have often wondered whether or not the sudden chill that ran through my body at the time was as a result of the encroaching darkness and subsequent drop in temperature, or was it because unconsciously the mere prospect of returning to the manor alone, and in the dark, had suddenly taken a toll on my resolve?”
Nine
“Hearing my wife’s voice on the phone was the ideal cure for my present melancholia. I let her chat away about all the contacts she was making from her latest shoot, and how much fun she was having designing some of the layouts. Apparently, as the article they were shooting for was aimed at the younger generation, her father had stepped back and allowed Jenifer to take charge and he was acting more like her assistant, which also tickled her.
“She sounded so bubbly and full of life that I did not have the heart to bring her down by voicing my concerns regarding my visitor. Instead I told her about how well I was being looked after by the Jarrows, and that I had decided that it might be appropriate to find my late cousin’s grave so that I could pay my respects. Jenifer agreed that it would be the proper thing to do, and reiterated how much she wished that she could be with me. I knew how much she was aching to see the manor and if anything, I was missing her even more than she was me. But now there was a part of me which housed concern regarding the young girl, and the prospect of her returning.
“It had already occurred to me that perhaps she was someone suffering from some type of mental disorder, and although she never did me any harm, I did not want to put Jenifer in any kind of danger, regardless of how remote it might be.
“Whilst we were on the phone I made a mental note that should the young girl appear again this evening, I was going to confront her about her and try to ascertain exactly what she wanted. If it did turn out that she was in any way unhinged, then I fully intended to report her to the police the following morning and to let them intercede in whatever way they saw fit.
“That said, there was still a part of me that could not believe that she honestly meant me any harm. I remembered her beautiful eyes, and the look of sheer terror reflected in them. The way that she had pleaded for my help and the urgency in her voice had convinced me of the genuineness of her predicament. Until she had disappeared! Which again, I determined had probably just been a case of her running away whilst my back was turned.
“But then if that were the case, where did that singing come from? Not to mention that awful scream?”
“Hello, are you still there?”
“The sound of Jenifer’s voice brought me back around from my reverie. She had obviously realised from my lack of response to her speaking that I was no longer paying attention. I apologised, profusely, and she laughed at my grovelling attempt at asking for forgiveness. I made the excuse that the sunset over the small town was so captivating that for a second I had lost myself in it. It was only a small white lie, and I did not feel overly guilty for telling it. After all, I could not tell Jenifer the truth!
“As my change dwindled we said our goodbyes, and Jenifer promised me that the minute the shoot was finished she would be on the first train down. I made a mental note to locate the train station, so that I could be there to meet her when she arrived.
“I set off back for the manor, and arrived there in good time without incident. I could understand why the locals had concerns regarding that abrupt, foliage-covered, steep turning, especially after my near miss with that van. But I did think that the given name for it was a little exaggerated, and wondered if there had in fact ever been any fatalities as a result of any accident taking place.
“I parked up outside, as usual, and unloaded my latest purchases and carried them inside. Once more there was note from Mrs Jarrow waiting for me on the hall table. This one informed me that she had made some soup for the couples’ supper, and that she had left me a bowl full on top of the stove ready to be heated. She had also set up fresh logs in all the fires which I had used the previous evening, and made up my bed with fresh sheets and pillowcases. Her husband had also checked the generator and she wrote that she hoped that it would remain working for me throughout the night. I was not sure how much my late relative had paid the couple, but they certainly earned their keep as far as I was concerned.
“I switched on some of the lights, and they came on straight away. I heaved a small sigh of relief that, at least for a while, I would not have to rely on my new torch alone to see my way around. I took my groceries and ale into the kitchen and uncovered the saucepan of soup Mrs Jarrow had left for me. I inhaled deeply, and my senses were struck by the aromas of tomato, garlic and basil. Immediately, my stomach began to gurgle. By chance I had purchased some crusty bread rolls in town, the perfect complement to soup. I was really looking forward to my supper now!
“First, I decided to go upstairs and light the fire in my bedroom. As promised my bed had been re-made with fresh, clean sheets, and I gathered from the faint odour of cherry blossoms in the air that Mrs Jarrow had seen fit to spray some air freshener; doubtless to combat the sour smell of my sweaty sheets from the previous evening.
“Once I had the fire roaring, I pulled back my top sheets and blankets to allow the warmth from the fire to penetrate my bed. I wondered if my benefactor had owned any form of hot water bottle, or perhaps an old-fashioned bed warmer, and made a note to myself to have a look when I went back downstairs.
“As I was about to descend the stairs I remembered Mrs Jarrow’s recollection from that morning of there being a portrait of a young girl in amongst those stacked up against the wall in one of the other bedrooms. I made my way along the corridor until I located the room in question, and went in to investigate.
“Typically, the light in this particular room was not working, and as I had no idea where, or if, there were any spare bulbs in the house, I went back downstairs to retrieve my torch. Once I returned to the bedroom I laid my torch on the bed so that the beam could illuminate as much of the room as possible, and I carefully began to remove the paintings and place them individually around the room so that I could get a better view of each one.
“There were about fifteen or so, and although I am no expert I believe that they were oil rather than water-based productions. There were a couple of the manor, created from different angles. Several were of horses and a couple of those had carriages in them also, with grooms standing smartly to attention in the foreground. There were a couple of portraits but they were all of men; some single, others in groups of various sizes. But alas, there was not even one with the girl in it. In fact there were no females in any of them whatsoever, which I must admit I did find a trifle odd. Especially as Mrs Jarrow had seemed so sure that she had seen one amongst them!
“I noticed at the far end of the room there was an empty frame leaning up against the window, and I wondered if perhaps at some time that might have contained the portrait Mrs Jarrow had spoken of. If so, the chances were that it must have been damaged or destroyed in some wa
y, which would explain its absence from the rest.
“Somewhat disappointed I turned to leave the room, when in another corner I noticed a medium-sized rather splendid ornate wooden frame, leaning against the wall. I picked it up and turned it over, only to find that it was a mirror. I checked the glass for any sign of cracks, but there were none. So, I turned it back over to see if the fixings at the back were still in place, which they were.
“I decided to take it downstairs with me, as I seemed to remember thinking the previous evening that there was a rather obvious blank patch above the fireplace. The mirror fitted perfectly, in fact, and as I inspected the space above the fireplace more closely it appeared as if something of the exact size as the mirror had once hung there. Once it was in situ, I stood back to admire it. I decided that it was a perfect complement to the rest of the room.
“Before attending to my dinner, I spent the next ten minutes or so searching, in vain as it turned out, for some form of bed warmer. Eventually I gave up, as my hunger was beginning to get the better of me. Therefore, I took myself back down to the kitchen to fetch my supper. Once down there, a sudden inner sensation drove me to check that Mrs Jarrow had remembered to lock the scullery door. Reason and sanity argued against my action, as there was no plausible reason to suspect that someone who had been locking that same door, night after night, for more years than I could count, would suddenly forget. But, alas, reason and sanity did not make their argument forcibly enough.
“Naturally, when I tried the handle, the door was secure. Feeling a little foolish, as well as guilty for questioning the housekeeper’s attention to duty, I took out my keys and opened the door; just to prove to myself that it was safe to do so. I must admit that as I pulled the door open I half-expected to see the young lady standing outside on the threshold, but to my delight the doorstep was clear.
“I crossed the threshold and stayed outside there for a few moments, breathing in the late evening air and gazing out over the darkened countryside. The moon was just beginning to appear in the night sky, although this evening it was frequently lost behind scudding clouds. I took in several deep breaths and listen out for the sound of the night creatures. Curiously though, I could not hear any. Not so much as a bird, a bat, an owl or even a barking dog off into the distance. In fact, the only sound I could hear was that of the wind rustling the branches of the surrounding trees.
“After a while I went back into the kitchen and prepared my food. I carried my soup upstairs and sat once more in the large armchair which I had fallen asleep in the previous evening. The soup was delicious, and I made a mental note to thank Mrs Jarrow the next day.
I took my empty bowl down to the kitchen, and made myself a cheese and ham sandwich using some of the crusty bread rolls I had purchased earlier in town. I carried them back upstairs, along with a couple of bottles of the ale I had purchased, and settled back down in front of the fire.
“I managed to tune my new transistor radio into a local station which was playing a live classical concert and settled down with my ale and sandwich in front of the fire. By the end of my second bottle of ale, I could feel my eyes growing heavy with sleep. But I decided that as the fire was still blazing, I would give it a little while longer before carrying myself upstairs. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the concert - the music from which blended perfectly with the occasional crackle from the logs on the fire - and within minutes I drifted off.
“I woke with a start. I had heard something, but I could not be sure what it was or even if it was just a part of a dream. I stayed there, slumped in the comfort of the armchair, as I tried to distinguish any sounds drifting through the air. The station I had been listening to had obviously gone off the air for the night, so I leaned down and switched off the low humming which was coming from the front of the speaker.
“The fire was almost out, although a few flames still licked at what was left of the logs. As I might have expected the overhead lights had gone out once more, and it was then that I remembered that I had left my torch upstairs. I was grateful for the faint illumination afforded to me by the remaining flames. Something was better than nothing as I made my way up to bed.
“Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I placed my hands on the arms of the chair and forced myself up. There, reflected in the mirror which I had recently placed above the fire, was the young girl!
“It took a few seconds for my poor, weary, still half-asleep brain to register what my eyes were witnessing; and even then, I did not want to believe it. I spun around on the spot so fast that I almost lost my balance and went over. As I looked up, the girl was gone! I slowly turned to look back into the mirror, fearing for a moment that she somehow had the power to hold her reflection in the glass without physically being in front of it. But, when I turned, all I could see was my own startled expression gazing back at me.
“I slumped back down in the armchair with my head in my hands. I just could not seem to get my brain to function properly. I had seen the girl’s reflection - I was in no doubt of that. But then at the same time, how could I have done when she was not there? I considered that it might just be a case of my imagination working overtime. Perhaps a combination of being in that strange house, the incident from the previous night, the fact that I missed my wife so desperately, and, although I hated to admit it, perhaps I had misjudged the strength of the local brew.
“Added to everything else, since last night I had had the girl on my mind for most of the day. Therefore, it was not beyond the realms of possibility that my subconscious had continued to imagine her while I was asleep. But I had not been asleep when I saw her - I was wide awake! Or was I? Perhaps I had been caught in that netherworld between sleep and wakefulness when I genuinely believed that I had seen her reflection.
“Just then I heard a loud banging coming from the direction of the scullery! It had to be her, I just knew that it had to be her!
“I stood up on legs made of jelly and stumbled around the armchair to make my way out into the hallway. My heart was beating so fast that I believed that I could feel it vibrating in my ears. I considered running upstairs to grab my torch, which by far would have been the most sensible thing to do. But at that moment something inside me was compelling me to answer the door instead.
“A sudden thought struck me. Had I even locked the scullery door after I had been outside that evening? Was there in fact nothing stopping whomever was out there from coming inside? I dropped my hand down by my side and felt the bunch of keys safely enclosed in the fabric of my pocket. I must have locked it, surely. But how ironic was the fact that I had only opened it in the first place was to check that it had been locked by the housekeeper, only for me to be the one to subsequently leave it open!
“The banging came again. This time it was much more forceful, with the same kind of urgency behind it as last night. Instinctively, I turned and began to make my way slowly towards the kitchen. The fact that I did not have so much as a candle with me to light my way was not completely lost on me. But something inside me was driving me forward. It was almost as if I had to answer the door, no matter what.
“I felt my way around the kitchen table and entered the scullery. Just like before I could not ascertain any kind of shadow behind the frosted glass of the back door, and for a moment my heart leaped at the possibility that no-one was there. That momentary feeling of elation was extremely short lived when the hammering returned, once more causing the door to rattle in its frame.
“This time, I did not bother to call out. Instead, once I managed to unlock the door I just grabbed the handle and wrenched it open.
“There she was again, standing outside my door. Still dressed in that same floral-print dress with her beautiful hair shimmering in the moonlight, and her piercing green eyes pleading to me for help. I screamed at her, demanding to know what she wanted from me. But then I regretted my action almost immediately. I realised that now I was confronted by her in the flesh I did not have the heart to be rude or abrupt wi
th her. She seemed so vulnerable, so scared, so in need of protection. For a second I considered stepping over the threshold and sweeping her up in my arms to reassure her that I would take care of her. But instead I stayed fixed to the spot, waiting.
“As before, she turned to her left and pointed out into the darkness. I knew what was coming next, and so it was.”
“They are trying to take my baby. Please don’t let them get him.”
“The same words delivered in that same pleading tone which had melted my heart upon first hearing her utter them the night before. Once again, I stepped outside and pointed my eyes in the direction to which she had pointed. Only this time, I made sure that I could still see her in my peripheral vision. I was not about to be led the same merry dance by her that I had been the previous night. Yet again, there was no one coming for her from any direction that I could make out. I turned back to face her, relieved that at least she was still there and had not managed to somehow slip away without me realising.
“From this distance, she appeared even more afraid. Her angelic face held an expression of sheer terror, even though there was no reason for it that I could ascertain at that moment. I looked her squarely in the eyes. In the dim light of the moon her eyes almost seemed to have the power to see right through me. It was almost as if she were capable of focusing on what was taking place behind me, without actually acknowledging that I was standing there.
“I asked her directly who it was that she was running from, and pointed out as calmly as I could that there was no one chasing her. But she just kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. A pleading little girl look that I could not help but allow to tug at my heart. I was about to ask her if she wanted to come in, when from behind me I could suddenly hear the sound of music being played on the harpsichord in the music room.”
Ghost Song Page 10