Ghost Song

by Mark L'Estrange

  “Amy managed to pick herself up, but she was obviously injured, as she limped, unsteadily, around the bend and once more out of sight. With Artemis beating the mounts for all he was worth, Spalding hit the bend at much too steep an angle. He claimed that he could feel the carriage skidding out of control, as the horses, desperate to escape the lash of Artemis’ whip, raced on, dragging the carriage against the direction of their spinning wheels.

  “Spalding said that he did not actually see Amy, he just felt the jolt as the carriage bumped over her. When he finally managed to take back control of the horses, he pulled up further down the road. When he walked back through the driving rain, he found Amy, lying in a pool of blood. He knew right away that she was dead!”

  Twenty-Three

  “I could feel the anticipation rising in me as my aunt’s story grew closer to Amy’s death. If everything she was telling me now was true, poor Amy had more than enough reason to wish revenge on my ancestors. The fact that I had suddenly appeared out of the blue and taken up residence in the manor doubtless gave the poor girl cause to presume that I was somehow a part of the misery and heartache that she had suffered at the hands of my benefactor, and, especially, his wicked father.

  “The other thought which I could not shake was the location at which Amy had been run over. Was my aunt describing the steep bend in the road known locally as the Widow-Maker? I remembered Peterson explaining to me that it was an old town custom to call it by that name, but now I wondered if that custom had started with the death of Amy.

  “That poor girl must have been terrified. Alone, and literally out in the rain and the cold on that dark night, running for her very life, not to mention that of her unborn child. Without so much as a friend in the world to turn to for comfort. Her actual family, those from the fair, were possibly miles away by then having moved onto the next town, or else in another country altogether, and the family she had married into, the ones she should have been able to turn to for succour, wished her nothing but harm.

  “Despite all the unsettled sleeplessness that she had put me through since my arrival, I found it impossible, having heard what I just had, to feel anything but sorrow and sympathy for her wandering spirit. It was natural that she had not yet found peace, but I did wonder if when she realised that Spalding was gone she might eventually be able to let go, and move over herself.

  “While I was lost in my own thoughts, my aunt waited patiently to continue with her tale. I could tell by the way she was looking at me that I was testing her patience by allowing my mind to wander, so I apologised, softly, and tried to look suitably admonished. Even so, she made me wait for another agonising couple of seconds before she continued. I made a mental note to myself not to allow my mind to wander again during her retelling.”

  “Spalding claimed that he actually felt a deep remorse as he stared down at Amy’s dead body, lying in the rain. Whether that was true or not, he was still very much under his father’s wing, so when Artemis shouted to him from the carriage to carry Amy’s lifeless body back on the wagon, he did as he was instructed. When they arrived back at the manor, Artemis’ doctor-friend had vanished into the night, doubtless after having second thoughts about the task before him. According to Spalding, his father never spoke of the man again.

  “As it was, they did not need him anymore anyway. Spalding maintained that his father ordered him to go to town to fetch a real doctor, and that, if asked, he was to say that they discovered Amy missing from the house, and as she had been known in the past to go into town in the middle of the night to sit by Spencer’s grave, they decided to try and catch up with her and coax her home. Their story was to be that they came upon Amy’s dead body on the Bodlin road.

  “Although Artemis had never tried to disguise his animosity towards Amy, there was no-one of standing or influence who was willing to say anything to that effect. Therefore, there was no question as to the voracity of their concoction concerning Amy’s demise. By the following day, when I returned from my impromptu visit to the seaside, Artemis had already arranged for Amy’s body to be removed to the town morgue, as I mentioned earlier, and there was nothing more to be said concerning the matter, and I left for boarding school the following day.

  “Spalding claimed that Artemis was only willing to pay for a pauper’s burial for Amy, and that he even refused to allow her to be buried in the family plot he had purchased years earlier. But, somehow, Amy’s true family got wind of her death, and the day before she was due to be buried, they arrived back in town to claim her remains. Artemis was not in the slightest bit phased by this circumstance; in fact, according to Spalding, he was quite pleased that he would not have to pay out for her funeral after all. But things were not all they seemed, and Artemis was in for some unsettling times.

  “Amy’s family set up camp just outside the boundary of the manor. Apparently, they paid the farmer who owned the land a handsome sum to be allowed to pitch camp there, and no amount of argument by Artemis would convince the man to renege on the deal. Although the Romany camp was not on Artemis’ land, he could still see them quite clearly when he looked out of the attic window. This in itself gave him even more cause to grumble and protest at the sheer impertinence of their lack of respect for his privacy.

  “But that was not all they had in store for him. At night, just as they would sit down to dinner, Spalding claimed that they could hear the sound of chanting, just outside the window. But whenever a servant was summoned to investigate, there was never any sign of anyone outside. The chanting continued at the same time of night, for nearly a fortnight, and it would often continue well into the small hours.

  “Artemis even claimed, on occasion, that when he rose to use the commode, if he glanced out of his bedroom window, the Romanies were grouped together on his land, just outside the main entrance of the manor. But yet again, when the servants were roused to investigate there was no sign of them, nor any evidence that they had been present as he had described.

  “Spalding could tell that the antics from the camp were starting to take their toll on his father. He tried to involve the local constabulary, and when they pointed out that the Romanies were camped legally and with the land-owner’s permission, Artemis flew into a rage and threatened to write directly to the Chief Constable. Not that such empty threats held any persuasion over the officers who had called in response to his complaint.

  “He even sent Spalding over to their camp to offer their ‘leader’ a bribe to move on. Spalding recalled that when he entered the camp, he immediately felt a burning sensation start to wend its way up through his entire body. His first instinct was to flee, but as he knew that he would have to face his father’s wrath if he did, he remained long enough to make his offer.

  “He said that he was led to a large tent, in which sat an old lady, whose age Spalding could not even hazard a guess at. He said that her skin was so lined with wrinkles that it was almost impossible to make out the features of her face. When she spoke to him, her English was barely perceptible, but nonetheless, she managed to convey to him in no uncertain terms that they were there to seek justice for their child, and that no amount of money was going to save him or his father from their destiny.

  “Spalding could not get away from the camp quickly enough, and he claimed that the minute he passed outside their boundary, the burning inside him evaporated on the spot. As he suspected Artemis was furious that his bribe had not worked, and he was beginning to grow desperate, as their constant chanting was having a debilitating effect on his health. Then, one day, about a dozen men arrived at the manor to see Artemis. Spalding claimed that they must have been amongst the ugliest and meanest-looking individuals alive, and that those that spoke while they were there, did so in a gravelly monotone, which belied any trace of humanitarianism.

  “Spalding said that judging by the men’s faces it was obvious that most, if not all, of them had at one time or another made a living as pugilists. He watched as Artemis handed over handfuls of n
otes, whilst informing their leader that he did not care how they decided to dispose of the intruders, so long as they were gone by that night. When the men left Spalding said that his father looked incredibly pleased with himself, and seemed to relax completely for the first time since the Romanies arrival.

  “But that night, as they sat down to dine, the chanting could be heard as usual. Artemis was so enraged that his latest plan had failed that he jumped up out of his chair, almost upsetting the soup tureen which the butler was placing on the table. Instead of calling for his servants to attend, Artemis grabbed a rifle from its stand and raced outside. Spalding thought it best to follow his father, and when he did, he found him stalking the grounds in front of the manor, holding the gun up in front of him, stating that he could see whoever it was hiding in the undergrowth, and that he was quite within his rights to shoot them on sight.

  “Spalding said that his father’s ramblings were starting to concern him, more so than usual, so he sent one of the servants into town to fetch the doctor. Meanwhile, Spalding and some of the other household staff managed to coax his father back inside, before taking him straight up to bed to await the doctor’s arrival.

  “The doctor who attended Artemis gave him something to help him sleep, plus a tonic for his nerves to be taken twice daily. Before leaving, Spalding invited the doctor to take some refreshment, and as they sat in the back parlour enjoying a glass of Artemis’ finest port, the doctor relayed a tale to Spalding which, instead of garnering the expected laughter, actually made him turn pale.

  “Apparently, according to the doctor, he had been called out earlier that evening by the local police constable, to attend to a group of hideously rough-looking men who had been arrested for public disorder, after they were found walking through town completely naked. Once they were safely behind bars, none of them were able to offer any explanation as to why they were in their current state. The doctor claimed that he had never experienced such an event, and that when he left, the men were still unable to fathom why, or how, they managed to end up in such a state.

  “Spalding said that he knew straight away that the men who the doctor was referring to had to be the ones who had stood in their front parlour only hours before. Somehow the Romanies at the camp must have managed to hypnotise, or at the very least, cast some sort of spell over the men, which made them act in the way that they had. He said that he found it extremely difficult to understand how such vile looking individuals could otherwise be coerced into such a situation.

  “The following morning when Artemis did not come down for breakfast, one of the servants went to investigate and discovered him dead in his bed. According to Spalding, when he saw his father, he did not recognise the man he had known since birth. The expression on the old man’s face was frozen in a look of sheer terror. He had died with his eyes and mouth both wide open, as if he were about to let out an almighty scream. But no one in the house had heard any such cry, so presumably he must have died before he could let it out.

  “The official medical report stated that Artemis died of a massive heart attack. But no one, other than Spalding, ventured as to what might have been the cause. Spalding mentioned that the local undertakers informed him that they would not be able to close his father’s eyes without first breaking his jaw, and that in order to close his eyes, they would have to resort to sewing them shut. Instead, Spalding opted for a closed casket to avoid subjecting his dead father to such degradation.

  “According to Spalding, the morning his father was found dead, the Romanies left the site, and were never seen anywhere near Briers Market again. But, although they did not stay to cause Spalding any grief, he claimed that Amy visited him, both in his dreams as well as in spirit, from that night onwards. Even so, he stayed at the manor. He even married a local girl who he managed to get in the family way. But the poor creature died during childbirth along with their son. Spalding was convinced that the death had something to do with Amy’s curse, as he remembered his wife mentioning hearing one of the servants singing late into the night, waking her from her much-needed slumber. But when Spalding challenged his staff, they all denied such activity, as he knew that they would. He was convinced that it was Amy’s ghost plaguing his wife, just as she had done to him for so many years by then.

  “After the death of his wife and child, Spalding claimed that he no longer possessed the drive or enthusiasm to continue in business, so he sold it off to one of his acquaintances and planned to live out his days from the income. I asked him why it was that he decided to stay at the manor, considering all that had happened there, not to mention what, according to him, was still going on. He gazed at me with the strangest look in his eyes, and merely shook his head, before revealing that he somehow knew that if ever he tried to leave the manor, that Amy would stop him. When I asked him to elucidate further he became very agitated, and just kept repeating that he knew her will, and after all these years he had come to accept it.

  “I remember thinking at the time that it was a very odd thing for him to say. But to be honest, it was really none of my business, and I could see how unsettled he was by my question, so I let it drop. I called for more tea, as the pot had grown cold, and after another cup Spalding seemed to settle down somewhat, and he continued talking about Amy as if she were still a real person. I must confess I found this part of our conversation the most disturbing, but by that stage I had already decided that I would probably never see Spalding again, so I allowed him to continue, and merely nodded and pretended to understand his reasoning.

  “He told me that beside her nightly singing, Amy had a habit of appearing behind him when he least expected it. He had, by this time, reduced the household staff to a fraction of what it had been, mainly to save costs, so the comings and goings inside the manor were greatly reduced. Therefore, he would often find himself alone in one part of the manor or another, when he would feel a presence behind him, and, if he turned suddenly, he would catch the merest hint of Amy just before her apparition disappeared.

  “He also claimed that he had demanded that all mirrors be removed from the walls, because again, Amy had a habit of appearing behind him whenever he was checking his reflection. Over time he had almost begun to live the life of a hermit, never venturing out unless it was absolutely necessary. He told me that he believed that Amy preferred it when he was at home, and that as he did not wish to antagonise her, he relented.

  “I have to say that listening to him speak towards the end of my visit made me suspect that he had virtually lost his mind, and were it not for the fact that he was a man of means, he may well have found himself being carted off to the local lunatic asylum. I did not doubt his sincerity that he was in fact being haunted by the ghost of Amy, but it was more a question of his acceptance of the fact, and that he did not feel it necessary to try and do anything about it.

  “After all, Amy was a lovely girl, and I was extremely fond of her, but she was gone, and if her spirit could not rest then I felt he needed to do something about it, such as bring a priest in to bless the place at the very least, and if that did not work, then why not try an exorcism? Anything had to be preferable to just living there and suffering night after night without hope of release, until death finally claimed him. But he was obviously set in his resolve, and no amount of ideas or suggestions from me were going to shake him.

  “I had allowed him to unburden his guilt, and if that gave him any kind of relief, even short-term, then I was pleased that at least I had the opportunity of offering that. By the time he left, the sun was already slipping out of the sky, and when he finally stood up to go, he looked even older than he had when I first saw him that afternoon. He reminded me of a man about to face his executioner, such was the look of hopelessness in his eyes.

  “That was the last time I saw him. We never did keep in touch, doubtless because neither of us had anything left to say to the other. I was surprised that he managed to continue to live in that place for as long as he did. But perhaps in t
he end his mind refused to recognise that he was being haunted. Or maybe he just found some other way of learning to live with it, without letting it trouble him. Still, hopefully he is at peace now, and out of Amy’s clutches.

  “As for you though, that’s another matter. You need to leave that hateful place right now!”

  Twenty-Four

  “The sudden directness of my aunt’s command took me totally unawares, and I found myself shifting uncomfortably in my seat. She was right, of course. Amy had no reason to be haunting me, despite the obnoxious and inhumane way my distant relatives had treated her. In my mind I was almost convinced that it was the manor that she was haunting, and who could blame her. I just happened to be there at the moment.

  “That said, I had no knowledge or understanding of the conventions or dictates that governed the actions of a vengeful spirit. So perhaps my aunt was right, blunt or not, I needed to heed her warning. While I was pondering my options, she shoved herself out of her chair and walked on unsteady legs over to her bookcase. When I offered my assistance, she just waved me away with the back of her hand and continued with her task.

  “I sat there in silence, watching her as she rummaged through a mahogany box which was on one of the lower shelves, surrounded by books, magazines and pamphlets. I glanced at my watch and realised with a rising unease that it was almost half-past seven. I gazed out of the window which had been at my side throughout my visit, and noticed for the first time, it seemed, that it was dark.

  “I did not relish my journey back that evening. The rain was still beating against the pane beside me, and having to navigate back in the dark as well was certainly no inducement. Added to which, I needed to phone Jenifer. I knew that she would forgive me if I explained that I had to keep our call short, due to my journey ahead, and there was no point in waiting until I made it back to town, because by then she would be sick with worry, as I would be if our situations were reversed. No, I would need to find a phone box nearby, before I set off back to town.