by Helen Phifer
When she was finally happy her picture was good enough she took it to show her mum, who was busy talking to Father John, who was always around lately. She hovered at the kitchen door until the priest took his eyes off her mum and smiled at her.
‘Hello Sophie, what have you got there? Let me see.’
Sophie walked reluctantly towards him and handed him the piece of paper. He took it from her and smiled, ‘I didn’t know you were a budding artist.’ He looked at the picture and his face froze. Sophie knew then that the priest had seen the shadow man before.
‘Why have you drawn this, have you seen this man Sophie?’
She nodded her head but didn’t speak; she didn’t want to make her mum angry again.
‘When did you see him?’
She looked across at her mum who had turned from stirring whatever it was she was cooking on the stove to watch them. Sophie walked up to Father John and stood on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, ‘Yesterday, upstairs and he doesn’t like me.’ Sophie’s mum Beth looked at her daughter, whose face was pale, and then at Father John. His face was whiter than Sophie’s.
‘What’s going on, what are you talking about Sophie? What did I tell you about making things up?’
Father John stood and passed the picture to her; she took it from him and blanched. ‘Sophie that’s horrible, why would you want to draw someone who looks like that? No wonder you’re scaring yourself. What have you been watching on the television?’
Father John turned to Sophie. ‘If you see him again I want you to tell me. Was he mean to you?’
Sophie nodded.
‘He doesn’t like me either, but I can make him go away. He may just have been passing through on his way somewhere else.’
The thought of this made Sophie feel better and for the first time since yesterday she didn’t have that sick feeling in her stomach. ‘I will. Do you really think so because I don’t like him and he smells really bad!’
Father John grinned at her. ‘I’m sure he was and yes he does smell really bad, like an old dustbin.’
They both started giggling and Beth shrugged her shoulders, she had no idea what they were talking about but let them get on with it.
Father John stood up to leave. ‘I’m going now but I’ll be back later, I’ll bring some holy water and bless Sophie’s room.’
Beth nodded her head. ‘You two are crazy but if it makes you feel better then knock yourself out.’
Father John winked at Sophie. ‘He doesn’t like holy water either, it smells too clean for him so he won’t come into your room.’
Sophie watched as he put his coat on, not wanting him to go. She felt safe with him here, especially if he knew about the shadow man. Father John walked to the front door and she followed him. He paused then fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a small, bronze St Michael medal and handed it to her. ‘Wear this or keep it with you, it will help.’
Beth looked at him. ‘Come on Father John, what are you trying to do, brainwash my daughter? Sophie go and get Sean and take him up to clean his teeth, I’ll be upstairs in a minute.’
Sophie turned and ran back to the living room to drag her brother away from the television. The priest waited until she was out of earshot. ‘I don’t think you understand Beth but there is a very real threat from this shadow man as Sophie calls him. I’ve seen him myself when I was a bit older than Sophie is now and he isn’t very nice.’
‘Are you expecting me to believe that my daughter has seen a ghost? Because I don’t believe in any of that nonsense.. You’re supposed to be a man of God; next you’ll be telling me that he’ll be popping around to speak to the children as well. I don’t want to hear any more about it and please don’t encourage her. I have enough to worry about.’
‘I’m sorry, you’re right Beth but you need to know whatever or whoever this shadow man is he is real. I was terrified of him when I was a boy. It was such a shock to see that drawing.’
‘Bye, Father.’
She shut the door and John turned and walked to the gate. He turned to look up and saw Sophie at the window with her face pressed against the glass, waving at him. He waved back and said a prayer to keep her safe, no-one knew what they were dealing with except him and he had blocked it out for twenty three years.
Father John walked the short distance to his church. The house that Beth and her children were living in belonged to the church. It was used as a house for poor families or anyone in desperate need. Beth had been in a desperate situation when Father John had met her for the first time with a black eye and broken nose. He had found her huddled at the corner of the church with her two children and a suitcase. He had only just joined the parish but he couldn’t ignore them. He had led them around to the presbytery, cradling a sleeping Sean in his arms. Beth had followed with Sophie and a battered suitcase. That had been nine months ago and he had watched Beth grow in confidence and they had become good friends. In fact, truth be told, he was in crisis at the moment because he very much wanted to be more than good friends and he knew that this could never be. He knew that he should be trying to distance himself from her but he couldn’t. He found himself drawn to her, to them, more than ever. He hadn’t felt this way before and wondered if it was because he wanted to protect them, protect her. Now this – how could the shadow man be here after all these years? John needed to speak with Father Robert, who was much older and wiser than him. He twisted the black iron ring on the church door and walked inside; he needed to pray. The silence inside the church reassured him and he felt as if he had come home, that God was waiting for him and it was a good feeling. Despite the internal conflict he was suffering he knew that this was where he truly belonged and that somehow God would help him.
Chapter 4
Annie woke to the smell of frying bacon and her stomach groaned, she was starving. Throwing the duvet back she swung her legs out of the bed, sitting on the edge for a minute in case she was mega hung over. She stood up and felt fine, no pounding head or churning stomach – Annie 1, alcohol 0. She got dressed and went into the bathroom to freshen up. Her hair was much better, it was now a short, shoulder-length bob and suited her much better than the half a skinhead she had been sporting last year. Wetting her fingers she ran them through her hair and scrunched it up and then she squirted some toothpaste onto her finger and rubbed it all over her teeth. At least she wouldn’t smell and she was excited to see Will and make it up to him. Last night was the first night they had spent apart since she had moved in with him.
Going downstairs into the kitchen she was greeted by a bright and breezy Alex who was making bacon and egg butties. Jake was nowhere to be seen.
‘The big guy’s in bed, he can’t move his head and has been up all night throwing up. Tequila obviously doesn’t agree with him as much as he thinks, but you my dear look fabulous so you can gloat over him all day if you want.’
‘I’d love to but I’ll save it until he’s back at work. I’d love a quick sandwich if it’s okay and then I’m off to go and see Will. I think I have a bit of grovelling to do.’
Alex grinned, ‘Well just don’t grovel too much and remember he was at fault as well.’ He handed her a sandwich made from two thick slices of freshly baked bread. Annie took a bite and groaned, ‘Thanks Alex, you know how to look after a girl.’
He began to laugh. ‘I do indeed.’ He looked in the direction of the stairs. Annie stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. As she turned to leave he shouted her back – he had her phone in his hand.
‘Where did you find that?’
‘Under one of the bar stools, it must have fallen out of your pocket.’
She thanked him then went out the front to get in her car to go and see the man of her dreams.
Annie reached Will’s house and parked up outside; she loved where they lived, it was so pretty. She had always liked the idea of living in a country cottage with a porch covered in sweetly smelling roses and honeysuckle around the door and his house had it all
. She hoped he was still in bed so she could climb in next to him and show him exactly how sorry she was. She jogged along the gravel path and pulled the key from her pocket. The door wasn’t locked which wasn’t like Will. He was the king of telling people to ‘Lock it or Lose it’, the force’s burglary motto. She opened the door and stepped inside. It reeked of stale beer, and her eyes fell on the table and the photo of them both which was face down. Her stomach began to churn, she hadn’t felt this way since she’d left Mike and she knew something was wrong. Call it a woman’s intuition or a copper’s instinct. A loud snore came from the direction of the living room and she forced herself to move towards it.
She wasn’t too sure what she had expected to see but it definitely wasn’t Will lying next to a practically naked Laura, who had her arm thrown over his chest and her legs wrapped around his. The pain which shot through Annie’s heart made her gasp out loud. Deep down her worst fear had been that it would end like this. She had managed to forget about Will’s reputation as a womaniser because he had changed since he’d fallen in love with her. Tears welled in her eyes and as much as she wanted to grab skinny, blonde Laura’s hair and drag her off the sofa and throw her naked into the front street – she couldn’t do it. Will murmured something into Laura’s ear and that was it, Annie turned to run out the house and out of Will’s life forever, but she tripped over his shoes and clattered into the wall. Will’s eyes flew open and he looked in her direction, confused. Annie stared back at him, composing herself as she turned and walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.
Will felt the warmth from the body next to him and was shocked to see Laura. ‘Fuck me Laura, what are you doing?’
He shoved her and she rolled off the sofa onto the soft rug below. He fumbled to get up, his head swimming. His stomach lurched and his mouth filled with bile. Still he ran for the front door, noticing the picture frame he’d knocked over last night and had been too drunk to bother picking up. A loud screech as Annie’s car sped off was enough to make him puke all over the hall floor. When he finished retching he threw open the door to make sure that it had been her car and that she wasn’t still sitting outside. She was long gone and he stood on his front porch mentally begging her to come back. He turned to go inside and noticed his elderly neighbour watching him. He remembered that he was almost naked. ‘Sorry Mrs Jones.’ He went back in and shut the door. Laura was standing there, with her clothes on now. ‘I should get going, can you ring me a taxi – my phone’s dead?’
He pointed at the phone next to the overturned picture. ‘Ring one yourself. What were you thinking, what was I thinking, did we?’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
She shook her head, ‘I don’t know, I can’t remember.’
‘Phone your taxi then wait outside, you can shut the door behind you.’ He walked to the kitchen to get a pint of water and four paracetomol, he felt like shit. Hangovers at his age weren’t so much fun anymore and he had just royally fucked up his life. He wanted to cry but instead he took a roll of paper towels to mop up his vomit and then went upstairs to bed. He dialled Annie’s number but it went straight to voicemail. Not able to do much else he shut his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, one in which he hadn’t just broken the heart of the woman he loved and ruined his whole life.
Chapter 5
Father John had a busy day ahead of him; he had two funerals and a christening to arrange. He also had a sick parishioner to visit who needed to speak to him about something they wouldn’t discuss with anyone else. But first things first, he wandered into the kitchen in his SpongeBob pyjamas and fluffy slippers. He needed coffee. Not just a spoonful from a jar, proper coffee. He rarely spent money on himself but the one thing he had finally succumbed to was a coffee machine, one that could match the industrial size one in the local Costa without breaking a sweat. In fact Father John’s cappuccinos were the stuff made of legends; if they were to make him a saint it would be Father John – Patron Saint of Coffee Drinkers. The woman’s union would congregate around the large kitchen table once a week with a plate of homemade biscuits and twelve of his coffees, then he would bow out gracefully and leave them to it. For the first time in history there was actually a waiting list to join them and he knew it was because he was running a parish coffee shop. He ground the beans and set about making his coffee, popping two slices of wholemeal bread into the toaster. Once he’d eaten his breakfast and read the daily paper he would shower and put on his sin-busting suit as he fondly called it and get to work.
He was on his second cup of coffee and halfway through reading the paper when he heard an ear-splitting scream outside. He jumped up, throwing his paper to the side, and ran to the window to see what the hell it was. He peered out and could see the bentfigure of Mrs Higgins come hurtling through the churchyard and into the front garden. For an old woman she could move fast! He rushed to the front door and opened it for the woman, who was now standing there breathing heavily and pointing towards the churchyard. She couldn’t speak, so John slipped on his boots and began jogging in the direction she was pointing. He couldn’t see anything and looked around expecting to see some young couple having sex or some drunken, homeless guy but there wasn’t anything. He looked back at her and shrugged. She lifted a shaking hand and pointed towards the wall. He turned around slowly this time, looking at the graves, and then he saw her; he had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. She was lying on one of the much older graves and she looked as if she was asleep, only John knew she was in a much worse state than being asleep. He nodded to Mrs Higgins and made his way towards the grave, not wanting to go any further but knowing he had a duty of care towards this poor woman. He stood in front of her and crossed himself, saying a quick prayer, then he bent down and placed two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. He knew there wouldn’t be one but he had to try. He stood up and walked back to the house to phone the police. Dear God what was the world coming to?
***
Will dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He couldn’t spend all day wallowing in self pity and hiding away from the world, he needed to sort this mess out now. The combination of the alcohol and the thought of how much he had hurt Annie was giving him a butterflies. He was positive he hadn’t actually had sex with Laura, he had been pissed as a fart but he remembered telling her that he loved Annie so how had she ended up naked next to him? He knew from past experience that when he got that drunk he wouldn’t be able to get it up for Jennifer Aniston so there was no way he would have been able to do it with Laura. The hot water cleansed his skin but he still felt like a dirty, rotten cheat on the inside. He rubbed the lemon shower gel that Annie bought all over. He hoped to God he would be able to sort it out with her because the last six months had been the best of his life. He had even been thinking about asking her to marry him and up until he’d met her he never really believed that he’d ever feel that way about a woman – ever. His phone was ringing but it was only when he turned the shower off and began to dry himself that he heard it; his heart skipped a beat and he crossed his fingers it was her. Dashing naked through to the bedroom to reach his phone he picked it up and saw it was a blocked number and knew it was work.
‘Will speaking.’
He listened as the control room operator informed him that a body had been found in St Mary’s churchyard, it looked suspicious and would he attend. ‘Yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ He ended the call, bollocks now it was going to be hours before he would get to speak to Annie. Not wanting to do it over the phone he had no choice so he dialled her number. She didn’t pick up and he hadn’t really expected her to so he left her a message. ‘Annie, it’s not what you think. I swear to God I don’t know how she ended up there. I was so drunk I wouldn’t be able to, well, you know what I mean. I love you so much, I’ve got to go, there’s a suspicious death at St Mary’s and it might be hours before I can come and see you. Please Annie, I love you with all my heart – let me explain.’
; He ended the call and slumped on the bed, today was going to be a long day.
***
Annie had driven around aimlessly for a couple of hours, at one point she ended up on Walney Island and parked the car on the seafront, watching the waves crashing onto the shore with tears rolling down her cheeks. She finally decided it was time to go home and parked the car outside her semi-detached house. Her phone was vibrating on the seat next to her but there was no way she would answer it. She couldn’t bear to hear Will’s voice right now, he had hurt her so much yet she wasn’t surprised. She knew she had got too involved so soon after Mike. She looked at her house, it had been over a month since she’d been inside. The For Sale sign that was swaying in the wind would be coming down, there wasn’t another option. It looked like she would be moving back after all, she couldn’t stay with Jake, he’d smother her with love, and the last time she’d stayed at her brother’s it had caused no end of heartache for everyone. She’d run there to escape from Mike after he’d smashed her over the head with a bottle and almost killed her, which had led her to discover the haunted house in the woods, where she had also discovered her new found ability to see ghosts. Oh and she’d managed to attract the attention of a man called Henry who was a serial killer.
Her phone beeped, shaking her from the memories which were filling her mind with horror; the only good thing which had come out of it had been her falling in love with Will. He had turned into her knight in shining armour, and now this morning had put an end to all of it. Her phone beeped to tell her she had a voicemail so she opened the glove compartment and threw the phone in there, slamming it shut. She needed some time on her own, time to think, and this was as good a place as any. She got out of the car and walked up the three steps to reach her front door. Once she opened it and stood inside she waited for a couple of minutes to see what would happen. See if the memories of the beatings Mike used to give her would come flying back, but they didn’t. In fact she didn’t feel anything. She went into her living room, which had once been full of mismatched, antique painted furniture. Now it was an empty shell; everything had been packed away and stored in one of her brother’s barns at his farmhouse in Abbeywood. The only thing of any comfort was the carpet that she’d had fitted just before Mike had tried to kill her, it still smelled new. She went through into the kitchen and checked the cupboards, there were a couple of mugs, a plate and two forks and a spoon – at least she had something to eat and drink with. She filled the sink with soapy water and plonked the lot of it into the bowl to soak. She needed to go and buy some groceries. In fact she needed to buy quite a bit unless she waited until Will was at work and went back for all her stuff – she would have to because she didn’t have much spare cash. Turning to look at the kitchen door where Mike had decided to try and cave the back of her head in, she expected to feel upset, but the only thing she felt was relief that she was still alive, even if her life was one fucked up mess. She ran up the stairs to check the bedrooms and turn the heating on to air the house through, it didn’t feel much like summer today. She didn’t even look into the master bedroom, instead she went into the much smaller spare bedroom, which looked out onto the tree-lined front street. This house was by no means as pretty as Will’s but it was her house and it was time to reclaim it.