Ghost Song

by Mark L'Estrange

  “Listen to me, sir, I cannot emphasise enough the importance of you leaving this house now, tonight, before it is too late. Jarrow and I have a spare room; you can stay in that if you don’t fancy driving into town in this weather to find a room.”

  “Jarrow turned around and nodded his agreement, and the thought of leaving the manor was definitely appealing. But I was not going to be driven out of my inheritance by a ghost. It had become a matter of principle to me. Admittedly I had already decided that Jenifer was not going to spend a single night in that property, but for myself I would be staying put, no matter how many disturbances my unwelcome guest caused me during the night.

  “I thanked the Jarrows, sincerely, for their kind offer, but emphasised that I was not in the least bit concerned for my welfare and explained that the girl had already visited me each night since I had been there. When I mentioned her in detail, describing her sad eyes and pitiful demeanour, the couple both looked at me with the oddest expressions on their faces. After exchanging a glance between them, Jarrow looked back at me.”

  “Do you mean to say that you have actually witnessed the spirit that is making these threats?”

  “I confirmed that I had, and what was more so had he this very night. For I could not be one hundred percent sure if Mrs Jarrow could see the ghost hovering behind her, but there was no way that Jarrow could have missed her. But when I ventured my opinion Jarrow looked completely bemused, and denied that he had seen anything.

  “I could not believe my ears. Jarrow had no reason to lie, but he had been facing his wife whilst the young girl hovered over her, right throughout his wife’s rendition of the song, and what was more he was right there when she transformed into the old hag and began floating over the table towards me, just before his wife let out that ear-piercing scream which appeared to have the desired effect in exorcising the spirit from the manor.”

  “Sir, I can assure you that I did not see any vision during the séance here tonight.”

  “I could not accept his supposition, and perhaps the cognac inside me was starting to work its magic, but I ran upstairs to the trunk I had tidied earlier and carefully retrieved the painting of the girl in the floral dress from the chest and brought it straight down to the waiting couple. I unfolded it on the table and laid it out before them. The pair studied the picture for quite a while, but neither seemed to recognise the girl in the paining as the one who had, only moments before, been hovering across the table at me.”

  “Are you telling me that while I was under you actually saw this apparition appear before you, in this room?”

  “I confirmed with Mrs Jarrow that not only had I seen her, but that she was the same girl who had visited me in the past. I just could not get my head around the fact that Jarrow himself had not seen her when she had been hovering virtually in front of him, above which she had to float right by him to get to me. Was she just invisible to anyone who was not in her line of fire? That would certainly explain how neither of my guests seemed to have noticed her.

  “I let the couple study the picture for as long as they needed, while I went down to the kitchen to fetch some more wine. I offered some to my guests, but they declined. I, on the other hand, needed something more familiar to wash away the taste of that cognac. I poured myself a large glass and I think that I must have quaffed it down too quickly, because it immediately made me feel giddy. I retook my seat at the table, and looked on as the couple continued to study the portrait.

  “At one point, Mrs Jarrow placed her hand on the girl in the picture, and closed her eyes. I presumed that she was attempting some psychic connection, which I must confess I thought was extremely brave of her, considering what she had already been through. As it was Jarrow obviously shared my concern, because no sooner had his wife closed her eyes to concentrate then he shot his own hand forward and placed it firmly on top of hers, gripping it with his fingers as if to prise it off the portrait. Mrs Jarrow opened her eyes at once and stared at him. From my angle I could not see the look he gave her, but it was obviously enough for her to reconsider her action and she removed her hand without question.

  “The three of us sat there in silence for several minutes. I think that we were all too shocked and too exhausted to speak. I, for one, could feel my eyelids starting to battle against the onset of sleep, and considering the Jarrows had been awake since before me, worked at the manor and then completed a shift at the pub before coming over to perform the séance, I felt sure that they too must be feeling about ready to drop.

  “In the end I broke the silence by thanking them for their kindness, and especially for putting my welfare ahead of their own by attempting to banish my unwanted spirit. But as the hour was fast approaching midnight, I suggested that they retire to their cottage and we would see what the morning would bring. I took the opportunity to mention to Mrs Jarrow about my early morning appointment with the librarian in town, and emphasised how much I would miss her wonderful breakfast.

  “To her credit, the lovely lady offered to come around early the next morning so that I could eat properly before I left for town. But I insisted that the pair of them enjoyed what I presumed must be a rare lie-in the next day, as a small token of my gratitude, as well as in consideration for the lateness of the hour. They both thanked me, profusely, and apologised, as if such an apology were necessary, for not achieving a more positive result from the séance. I assured them once more of my undying appreciation, and emphasised that I was fully aware that they had done everything in their power to assist me.

  “I could sense that they were both still somewhat reluctant to leave, and I surmised that it must have something to do with them not wanting to leave me alone. But I knew that there was no more that they could do for me, and as tired as I was feeling I did not wish to appear rude, so I pretended that I had not seen the concern in their expression and shifted my chair back and stood up so that I could escort them to the front door. With some hesitation Jarrow packed away their belongings, and they followed me out into the hallway. When we reached the main door, I turned back to wish them both a pleasant night, and was taken somewhat aback when Mrs Jarrow practically launched herself at me, and grabbed hold of my sleeve with both hands.”

  “Please sir, I beg you to reconsider spending the night with Jarrow and me. This house does not want you here, and I fear that the longer you stay, the more you will be placed in danger!”

  “I could see by the look on Jarrow’s face that he too was taken by surprise by his wife’s antics, and subsequently it took him a moment to react. He moved in closer and eased his wife away from me. She turned to him with the same pleading look she had just given me, and tried to urge him to assist her in convincing me to leave with them. As insistent as she was I could tell that Jarrow was more embarrassed by his wife’s behaviour than he was interested in the message she tried to convey. It struck me that the Jarrows were obviously kindred spirits, and both extremely humble in their ways, neither wishing to force an opinion or an idea on someone else, which was possibly why Jarrow felt so uncomfortable with his wife stepping out of character at that moment.

  “Although I was extremely grateful for Mrs Jarrow’s concern for my welfare, I could still sympathise with Jarrow’s unease. I placed my hand on the housekeeper’s shoulder and assured her that I would be fine, even though she still looked none-too-convinced. As he ushered his wife out of the door, I gave Jarrow a friendly pat on the back to convey both my thanks and my understanding. I could not think of anything to say at that point which would not cause the gardener more embarrassment, so I left him to take his wife home.

  “I watched them as they walked slowly along the gravel drive, until they turned at the main gate and disappeared out of sight behind the treeline. I felt guilty watching them huddle against the beating rain, and wished that I had had an umbrella to hand to offer them. Or, at least, invited them to stay until the rain subsided. But at least their cottage was only a short walk away, and with the protection that th
e trees lining the route would afford them I presumed that they would not end up being completely soaked.

  “As I closed the door, as if on cue the overhead lights went out, plunging me in virtually total darkness. I let out a long sigh, cursing the bad timing. My initial thought was to just leave things as they were. After all I was just about to retire for the night, and I hoped that with all the alcohol I had consumed that I might be able to sleep through until the morning. Naturally, there was no guarantee that I would not receive another unwanted visitation during the twilight hours. But by the same token I was reasonably confident that having visited the manor during the séance, that the girl, Amy, might leave me alone, at least for the rest of the night.

  “Then it dawned on me that, with my planned early start in the morning, if the generator stayed off all night there might not be any hot water in the morning for my bath, and I was adamant that I wanted to create a good impression with Miss Wilsby. After all I really needed her help with sifting through the library’s archives to try to uncover some more information about my house and family, and even more importantly about this young girl, Amy.

  “I ran upstairs to fetch my torch from my bedroom, and before I ventured outside I pulled on my overcoat which I had left hanging in the hallway. Turning up my collar I opened the front door once again, and checked my trouser pocket for the housekeys before venturing out into the rain. I stayed as close to the manor as possible as I made my way around the side of the house, shining my torch on the floor ahead of me, thereby minimising any chance of my tripping over. It only dawned on me when I had reached the halfway mark that it would have been far more sensible for me to exit via the scullery, rather than the front door. That would have saved me at least three-quarters of my journey around the manor, as the generator shed was only a short walk from the back of the house. But it was too late to bother with retracing my steps, so I continued on my way.

  “Once I entered the shed, I dusted off my coat and used the beam from my torch to locate the starter switch for the generator. My first two attempts resulted in the machinery just coughing and spluttering without actually coming to life, and I remembered Jarrow explaining to me the first time he demonstrated the system for starting it up that it did not always take on the first couple of tries. Sure enough, on my fourth attempt the generator spluttered back to life.

  “I locked the shed door behind me as I left. From this side of the house it was impossible to tell if the lights in the hallway had come back on, and again I kicked myself for not leaving via the scullery. That way I could have switched on the light in there before coming out, so that now I would be sure that the generator was working properly without having to trudge back around the manor. I shone my torch over the back of the house, and momentarily froze with terror when I saw the familiar silhouette of Amy staring down at me from one of the upstairs windows!

  “I stayed put for a while, shielded from the rain by the overhanging ledge above the shed door. Amy did not move! In the sadly inadequate beam afforded me by my torch, it was impossible to see anything other than the faint outline of her form behind the window. But I knew that she was staring straight down at me, although it was impossible to see from where I was standing what kind of expression she had on her face. Even so, after the night’s activities I fancied it was not a look of compassion or forgiveness.

  “The rain was veering towards becoming torrential, and I could feel my overcoat growing heavier as the water absorbed into the material. So, in the end I left Amy to her lonely vigil, and made my way back around the manor to the front. Once inside I shook off my coat, and raced up the stairs to the room which housed the window from which I had just seen Amy peering down at me. But when I reached it, there was no sign of her!

  “I walked over to the large pane and looked out, just to satisfy my curiosity that I was in fact in the right room. When I looked out and saw the generator shed below, I was in no doubt that I was standing exactly where she had been moments before. As I stood there, I felt a sudden cold shiver run through my body. In truth I could not be certain if it was as a result of my having just come in from outside, or from something more eerie and sinister. The feeling reminded me of the saying people often repeat about having someone walk over their grave. I shook off the sensation and went back downstairs to ensure that I had locked the front door, and to switch off the lights.

  “When I finally climbed into bed, I was so exhausted from the day’s events that I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.”

  Seventeen

  “Amy did not allow me to sleep at all well that night. Each time I closed my eyes, no sooner would I drop off then I would be woken by the sound of doors slamming all around the house, or else she would sing her mournful little song right in my ear, but naturally when I opened my eyes she would not be there. When I did manage to catch forty winks she would invade my dreams, appearing as she had earlier that evening; not as the sweet, gentle, pretty, young girl, but instead as the evil hag-like creature, reaching out towards me as if she wished to rip my heart clean out of my chest.

  “After being woken for the umpteenth time during the night, I turned onto my side and covered my exposed ear with a pillow in an effort to block out the sound of her constant racket. But, alas, it was to no avail. I could feel my eyes burning due to the lack of sleep. My entire body cried out for rest, but she refused to let up. At one point, out of desperation I sat up in bed and called to her, demanding to know what she wanted from me. But her only response was to send another gush of wind through the house, which, yet again, caused several of the inner doors to slam shut.

  “At one point I heard the familiar sound of hammering on the scullery door. Try as I might to ignore it the endless pounding continued, growing progressively louder with each strike, until finally I gave up and threw back the covers to make my way downstairs. As I descended the stairs I caught myself shouting to Amy, informing her that I was not in the least bit impressed with her performance that night and that I refused to feel guilty, or take any responsibility, for any distress my distant relatives may have caused her.

  “Once again, as I reached the scullery I could see Amy’s lone figure in shadow, just outside the door. My patience had grown incredibly thin by that point, and once I had unlocked the door I wrenched it open to confront her. By now my entire body was aching from lack of sleep, and my temper was well and truly frayed. When I saw her standing on the doorstep, for the first time I was not taken in by her pitiful expression. Before she had a chance to beg for my help in her usual manner, I shouted at her; insisting that she tell me what I had to do to be rid of her once and for all. Instead of replying, she just opened her mouth and screamed. In an instant her cry appeared to be coming at me from all directions. The entire house appeared to vibrate from the severity of her pitch, and I was forced to shove my fingers in my ears and close my eyes.

  “I backed away from the open door, cradling my head in my hands. The noise of Amy’s screaming was so intense that I actually believed that my head might explode. There seemed to be no way of escaping the deafening row, but instinctively I continued to back away from the door. As I was not concentrating on where I was going I lost track of how many steps I had taken until it was too late. I caught my heel on the corner of the large table, and before I could help myself I had pitched backwards, and then everything went black.

  “The next thing I remember was waking up from my concussed state, still splayed on the hard stone floor, with the scullery door flapping back and forth in the wind. I eased myself back to a standing position, using the same table that had been the cause of my downfall to prop myself up. I stood there for a moment just to check that I was still in one piece. I could tell from the dull ache across my shoulders that they must have borne the brunt of my fall.

  “In the dim, shadowy light that the night sky afforded me I managed to locate my torch, but to my horror, when I depressed the button it did not come on. Sighing to myself I checked the glass covering
the top, and discovered to my amazement that it was still intact. Next I undid the front cap and removed the large battery, so that I could get access to the contact spring to make sure that it had not bent or broken because of my fall. It appeared to be holding fast, so I slipped the battery back into its casing and re-fitted the lid. Holding my breath I tried the switch once again, and to my amazement it spluttered back to life.

  “I staggered to the doorway and stood there for a while, letting the wind envelop me. The sharp coldness of the rushing air helped to bring me back around, and I stayed there until the driving rain became too intense for comfort. I stood back just far enough to allow myself to shut the door. Once it was bolted I leaned against it for support, and contemplated taking myself back up to bed. A quick glance at my watch told me that it was almost three o’clock, so it appeared that I must have been unconscious for at least an hour.

  “I took heart in the fact that the house seemed to have settled down. There were no more banging doors to be heard, and once again I prayed that Amy had finished pestering me for the night. If that were the case I still had a chance of three or so hours sleep before my alarm would go off, which was more than I had enjoyed so far that night. I considered making myself a glass of hot milk to help me sleep, but decided that my time would be better spent just trying to fall asleep as soon as possible.

  “I made my way out into the kitchen and from there to the hallway, using my torch to guide my way. I had been in too much of a hurry to vent my frustration at Amy to bother turning on any lights on my down to the scullery. I kept the torch beam directed at the floor in front of me as I manoeuvred my way across the hall and towards the bottom of the staircase. I held onto the bannister for support as I began to climb the stairs. By now my entire upper body had started throbbing, doubtless because of my fall. I was fairly sure that I had not packed any kind of painkiller in my luggage, so I knew that I would just have to make the best of it.