‘I do actually.’
Rosa’s mouth dropped in mock-surprise.
‘Really? I’ve never seen it.’
‘Well, it’s really small. It’s just on my ankle. Here, I’ll show you.’
Max peered round a bookcase as Aggie rolled down her sock.
‘It says “Victoria”. That was my nan’s name. Although everyone called her Vicky. I got it after she died.’
‘Were you really close then?’
‘Yeah. She pretty much looked after me on her own for quite a few years because my mum couldn’t handle it.’
‘But you see your mum now?’
‘Yeah, we get on fine now, but more like we’re sisters, because she wasn’t my mum really when I was growing up, my nan was.’
‘I like Vicky. It’s a nice name.’
‘Yeah, it is. Better than Aggie. Don’t know what my mum and dad were thinking when they chose that. It was my dad’s mum’s name, but it’s not timeless like Victoria. Just made me sound like an old lady. And my dad didn’t stick around longer than a year before he ran off with someone else anyway, so it’s pretty stupid me having his mum’s name.’
‘Aggie’s a great name. Older names are cool now.’
‘I hate it. Should have changed it years ago. But everyone knows me as Aggie now, so…’
‘I was lucky. Rosa’s a good name.’
Aggie smiled and gave Rosa a squeeze.
‘Yes, it’s a beautiful name,’ she said.
* * *
‘Remember,’ said Aggie, once the doorbell of the cottage had finished chiming. ‘Only say the nice things in your head out loud. Not the horrid ones.’
‘The Professor wants me to be sceptical,’ said Max, hugging himself in the evening air.
‘Probably not straight away. Just at the end of the hunt. After everyone else has gone home.’
The door to the old, thatched cottage opened. Rodney Tricklebank stood before them.
‘Ah, Max, so glad you could make it.’
‘Hello, Rodney,’ said Aggie.
‘Come on through to the library,’ he said, gesturing them inside. ‘Everyone’s here, I think. See if you can find a chair.’
They followed him down a low-ceilinged, carpet-less hallway and into the library, a wall of heat from an open fire hitting them in the doorway. Several heads turned to face them as they stepped inside the dimly-lit room.
‘Aggie!’ cried two young women, jumping up from a leather couch to hug her.
‘Hi!’ she said. ‘Max, this is Jenny, this is Annabel.’
Max nodded hello. Jenny was rosy-cheeked and plump, her hair falling down in ringlets over her shoulders, towards the bodice of a purple and black velvet dress. She winked at him, and Max realised he had been caught staring into the deep cleavage of Jenny’s breasts. He hoped he wasn’t blushing.
Annabel’s face was angular and harsh, her hair the colour of straw. Her T-shirt, pyjama bottoms and furry slippers signalled her residency. She held out her hand. Rodney put his arms round her waist as they shook, kissing her on the shoulder and neck. Max withdrew as soon as was polite.
Rodney loosened himself and nodded at two armchairs. ‘That’s Oscar,’ he said about a bear of a man occupying one, whose pony-tailed hair, beard and clothes made a black spot out of which part of a face could be glimpsed. A hand waved. ‘Oscar is our resident demonologist.’
The other armchair coughed.
‘And that’s Simon. He handles the technical side of things.’
‘Si, please,’ said the figure in the armchair. He waved shyly from behind his laptop, the fire dancing in the reflection of his glasses. A thick jumper seemed to act as a block to any further scrutiny.
‘This is Max, everybody. He will be assisting us on our next investigation, applying sceptical rigour throughout.’
A snigger emanated from the armchairs, although Max could not tell which of the men it came from.
‘Right, let’s get cracking, shall we?’ said Rodney, clicking on a projector linked to a booting laptop. Annabel dimmed the lights right down, leaving the fire and the projector as the only sources of illumination. Max strained to see if there were any spare places to sit. Aggie pulled him down onto the thick carpet. She had already taken her shoes off and tapped his foot to make him do the same.
The laptop finally awake, Rodney opened several folders before finding what he was looking for. A PowerPoint presentation began.
‘The old courthouse. In use, although rebuilt several times, from the thirteenth century until 1962. It now operates as a tourist attraction. Until the early nineteenth century, condemned men would be kept in the cells down below, before being hung at nearby Cobbler’s Square at the end of the High Street. A surviving part of the original wall can be found in the courtyard…’
Rodney clicked through many images and much historical detail. Restless shuffling was occurring on the couch. Si had a muted coughing fit in his chair. Max found Aggie staring at the fire while even his mind wandered.
‘…and of course, this long and bloody history has resulted in many spirits haunting the location.’
There was a shriek of excitement from Annabel. She grabbed hold of Jenny as if to anchor herself.
‘The sound of a crying woman is heard at night in the courtroom, along with the clanking of chains and slamming doors down below in the cells. It is a very rich location for EVPs. Psychics have made contact with various spirits, mostly men who awaited death there, although there is a spirit that keeps on coming through, a woman by the name of Alice. Possibly the crying woman who can be heard in the courtroom, possibly another spirit. Visual manifestations are rare, except for a dark figure known as Black Bob…’
‘A shadow man!’ Annabel stood up and screamed.
‘That’s right,’ said Rodney, pausing briefly to run his fingers down Annabel’s thigh. ‘A black silhouette who usually appears at the end of a corridor, although on rare occasions in one of the cells, if there is only one or two people in there at the time…’
Annabel screamed again and glanced at Jenny, who got up to join her in screaming. An armchair sighed.
Rodney waved his hand gently and the screaming stopped.
‘Does anybody have any questions so far?’
Max put up his hand as Annabel and Jenny muttered excitedly between themselves.
‘Max?’
‘Um, yeah. What’s a shadow man?’
The pair screamed again at the words and clapped their hands. Rodney cut them off with another wave of his hand.
‘A shadow person,’ he said, ‘is a spirit that manifests itself as a large dark shape, usually the silhouette of a man…’
‘Like the Hat Man!’ cried Jenny. ‘Oh my god, he’s so scary. I’d die if I saw him.’
‘Why’s he called the Hat Man?’ said Max.
‘Because he wears a hat, like an old one from the old films,’ said Annabel, talking very fast.
‘A fedora,’ said Rodney.
‘So Shadow People are ghosts?’ asked Max
‘No,’ said a voice from an armchair. Oscar. ‘Absolutely not. Shadow People are agents of darkness. You do not want to mess with one.’
‘Oh, right. Agents…?’
‘The Devil,’ said the black mass that was Oscar. ‘They are servants of the Devil. They are demons.’
‘Well, that’s a theory, anyway…’ said the other armchair.
‘It won’t be a theory when it takes a piece of your soul away, Si.’
Jenny reached over from the couch and gave Oscar’s arm a reassuring stroke.
‘So what do you think, Max?’ said Rodney. ‘About Shadow People. Spirit or demon?’ Max felt all eyes on him in the darkness. He looked to Aggie for reassurance. She smiled weakly.
‘Well, I, ah… I mean, people believe different things, and…’
‘You don’t think it’s either, do you?’ said Rodney. ‘There’s a burning question on the tip of your tongue right now, I can tell.’
‘Excellent question!’ said Rodney. ‘This is why we need someone with an analytical brain such as yours on board with us on this investigation. If we see Black Bob, the Shadow Person, how will we know that it isn’t just a shadow?’
‘Because,’ said Oscar, ‘if it’s just a shadow, you won’t feel his icy hand grip your heart… and squeeze.’
Annabel and Jenny screamed again, jumping up and down as they did so, Annabel’s buttocks bouncing in and out of Rodney’s cupped hands.
* * *
‘Well, that was… intense,’ said Max, as he and Aggie waited at the country bus stop in the dark. The air was bitingly cold now, and his coat was thin.
‘You did very well. Except for blatantly staring at Jenny’s boobs.’
‘I couldn’t not stare. They were taking up my entire visual field.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Is that what you like then, big ladies with big boobs?’
‘I, ah…’
‘You do, don’t you? You’re blushing.’
‘It’s freezing, that’s all. And I like lots of… Anyway, aren’t Jenny and Oscar a couple? I got that impression.’
‘They are. But, well, if you’re interested, you shouldn’t let that stop you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They… what do you call it? They do that thing where, you know, they… go with other people at parties.’
‘Swinging.’
‘Yeah, that. So, go for it, if you want to. Although from what she’s told me, you’ll probably have to let Oscar watch.’
‘I think I’ll pass, thanks. Although I thought we were going to have to watch Rodney and Annabel, the way things were going.’
‘I did say.’
Max checked the road for the bus. It was dark except for the single street light above the bus stop, and the twinkle of town lights in the far distance. The night was silent, and he suddenly found it hard to speak.
‘I tried not to say anything negative,’ he said, finally, ‘but Rodney made me.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s obviously what he wants, and it’s his group, so…’
‘But you don’t like it.’
‘Oh, I dunno. I mean, I’m not really into Shadow People. You’re right, they probably are just shadows.’
‘Shadows wearing hats.’
‘Right.’
‘So what are you into, then?’
‘Huh?’
For a moment, Aggie looked panicked. Max wondered what he had said wrong, and clarified: ‘Supernaturally, I mean.’
Aggie shrugged.
‘I just like to know there’s something…’
She put her arms around him from behind, the polyester of her thick coat squeaking as she did so.
‘You’re freezing,’ she said.
‘We should have accepted Rodney’s offer of a lift,’ he said, feeling her warmth and regretting saying it before the sentence was through.
The light of the bus appeared rising above a hill, a tear in the black of the country night. He waited for Aggie’s arms to loosen. They stayed tight until the bus was nearly at a stop.
* * *
‘So, today’s the day,’ said Max, from atop a stool, weeding stock from the top shelf.
‘You still coming, then?’ said Aggie, sat behind the till.
‘Yeah, course. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You just haven’t mentioned it for a while.’
‘Been thinking about it, that’s all. Just trying to reconcile the Rodney Tricklebank who wrote about all history being the by-product of class struggle with the one telling me there’s a ghost lady called Alice who goes “woooh”. Anyway, how come you’re back behind the counter?’
‘We’re short-staffed since Andy had his meltdown.’
‘Yeah, that was messy by the sound of it. Shame Rosa had to fire him.’
Aggie nodded.
‘And besides,’ she said, quietly, almost to herself, ‘sometimes it’s good to do things that scare you.’
‘Don’t the ghost hunts scare you? They seem to make Jenny and Annabel practically wet themselves, and that’s just from a slideshow.’
‘No, not really. You might get the odd jump but it’s a nice feeling, for me, having spirits around.’
‘Even if they are bad ones?’
‘I don’t know if any of them are bad. Just confused. It must be quite upsetting for them, finding themselves stuck somewhere, not being able to move on.’
‘I know the feeling…’
At that moment, the door of the shop swung open. Rodney entered with a purposeful stride.
‘Hello,’ said Aggie.
He nodded slightly, and proceeded to look around the shop with a swivel of the head until he located Max above him.
‘Ah, Max,’ he said. ‘Don’t get down. I am just making sure you will be present tonight for the investigation. I am sure you will be.’
‘Oh, er, yes,’ said Max. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Good, good. And I hope you apply the most critical thinking to everything you see. Remember, we are men!’
He turned and left as abruptly as he had arrived.
‘Bye Rodney,’ said Aggie after him.
‘Why does he keep saying that?’ said Max.
‘What?’ said Aggie.
‘“We are men”. It’s just a weird thing to say.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Aggie. ‘Maybe he wants you to use your man’s brain and work it out.’
* * *
Aggie looked out at the pond. Someone had taken the last flowers she had left there. Someone always did eventually.
She turned her head as if to listen. Her smile did not come.
* * *
‘You’re on time!’ said Max. ‘No really, you’re actually on time, for the first time ever.’
Aggie closed the door of the shop and stepped inside.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘that’s good, isn’t it?’
She disappeared up the stairs.
* * *
The caretaker led them into the courthouse. Rodney, Annabel, Jenny, Oscar and Si, with Max and Aggie bringing up the rear. It had just gone nine o’clock.
‘Yeah, we get a fair few of you ghost groups come these days, what with it all being on the telly and that.’
‘Have you experienced anything yourself?’ said Rodney, as they were taken down a corridor to the doors of the courtroom.
The caretaker unlocked the doors.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Sometimes when everyone’s gone home and it gets quiet it feels like there’s someone watching you.’
Annabel squeaked.
‘But other than that, no, not really.’
‘You don’t hear a woman crying,’ asked Rodney.
‘Can’t say I do, no.’
‘Doors slamming, chains rattling?’
‘Only on Christmas Eve.’
‘Christmas E— ah, I see you’re having a joke with us.’
‘Yeah, well. It’s a funny business isn’t it? You’ve got to admit that. I’ll be out front in the box office most likely if you need anything. Let me know when you want to go down to the cells.’
The caretaker closed the doors behind him. Max looked around. An out-of-use courtroom, with a magistrate’s bench, witness stand, dock and wooden benches. It did not feel as if it could be home to anything at all.
He glanced at Aggie and gave her a smile by which he meant little, save to reaffirm whatever bond of friendship they had. She did not smile back. They had met in town and walked down to the courthouse together and nothing seemed amiss, but now she was distracted the way she had been in the shop for much of the day, as if something more intangible than a mere spirit was troubling her.
‘Shall we start with a calling out?’ said Oscar, as Si put down the camera he was holding to fiddle with a Dictaphone.
‘Good idea,’ said Rodney. ‘Why don’t
you start us off?’
‘Hello?’ cried Oscar. His voice was so loud and reverberating in the empty space it made Max jump. ‘Is there anybody there?’
‘Come on, show yourself!’ shouted out Annabel.
‘Is there an Alice here?’ asked Rodney.
‘Come on, you coward,’ cried Annabel. ‘Give us a sign!’
‘Yeah, we’re not frightened of you!’ Jenny joined in.
‘Not so confrontational, please!’ said Rodney. ‘They might not want to show themselves if they think we’re angry with them.’
‘Yeah, sorry, Rodney,’ said Jenny.
‘Alice?’ said Rodney. ‘Can you talk to us? Give us a sign. A knock, perhaps.’
Jenny took a sudden intake of breath.
‘Oh my god, did you hear that?’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ said Jenny, ‘it was like a…’
‘A banging.’
‘Yeah. A banging! That’s what I heard.’
Max leaned in to Aggie. Before he even opened his mouth he felt like he was intruding.
‘Did you hear it?’ he whispered.
Aggie shrugged.
‘Can you do it again?’ said Rodney. ‘Can you make a bang, or a knock, again?’
They all stood in silence, straining to hear. There was a slight sound, Max thought, although it sounded far away.
‘Oh my god, did you hear that?’ said Annabel in a mock whisper.
‘Yeah,’ said Si.
‘Yup,’ said Oscar. ‘We all heard it, didn’t we?’
Max found himself nodding.
‘Who is it we are talking to?’ said Rodney. ‘Is this Alice? Can you knock once for yes, and twice for no? Can you do that?’
Again, silence fell. Again, there was a single, dull, faraway thud.
‘Just one,’ whispered Jenny.
‘It’s Alice!’ said Annabel, clapping with the tips of her fingers.
‘Alice,’ said Rodney, casually reaching out to squeeze Annabel’s breast for a second. ‘Can you do anything else? Can you say a word, perhaps, so that we can have a conversation?’
They listened. No sound came.
Erotic Nightmares Page 13