The Ghost in the Mirror (Haunted House Book 2)

by Ayse Hafiza

  He nodded.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked astonished.

  “Well I could ask you the same question, but Ma tells me you’re back in the Hamilton farmhouse, or is it the Blades farmhouse now?”

  “Names are just semantics, what are you doing here?”

  “I was living in London when your Ma died, and I told my Ma about the funeral she asked me to go. I went because I knew that you’d be there. I wanted to meet you. But then I knew you’d come here one day, so I came back. . .because you never called me.”

  He felt himself blush. Frank met Audrey at his mom’s funeral. She introduced herself as family, even though he had never met her before, and really knew of no family on either parent’s side. She’d given him her number, but he never called. In some strange calculation in his mind he was being unfaithful to Jane and seeing that Jane hadn’t died but been pulled into some other dimension, he couldn’t move on. That was the truth of it, so he let the new beginning that he felt possible with Audrey slip away, and as he was living in the squat she couldn’t call him, he couldn’t be traced.

  Then the reality of what she said hit him.

  “Are you saying that you came back here hoping that one day I’d turn up?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say hope. I’d say know that you were going to turn up.”

  “How could you know that?” asked Frank. He had been unsure that he was going to turn up, so how could this woman know where he was going to be?

  “It’s the call of the Eigg, it gets us all,” said Audrey seeing his expression and knowing what was on his mind.

  She turned and squeezed past Frank, he smelled her hair as she moved, then he followed her into their sitting room where Mrs. Boswell was seated in front of a black and white television set.

  She jumped up and put her slippers on her feet, as Audrey stood behind her sofa laughing a little. Mrs. Boswell squared her cushions and plumped them.

  “Please Frank, come in and take a seat,” she said after she’d finished tidying.

  “Can you make Frank a cup a tea?” Mrs. Boswell asked Audrey.

  Audrey left, and his eyes followed her, probably lingering on the space she occupied for far too long.

  “What is it, love? Do you need anything?” asked Mrs. Boswell.

  Frank wondered how he would bring up the mirror. There was no other option, it was going to be in the direct way.

  “Just that erm. . .enchanted mirror,” he said, forcing himself to get the words out and knowing he sounded like a madman. He could see it in his mind, any minute now Mrs. Boswell would ask him to repeat himself. She would chase him out of the house for being crazy, and yet again the commune dwellers would be ostracized from the community.

  “What about the mirror?”

  “Well, how did it come into your possession?” he asked the least important question.

  “It was sent by a courier to the estate agency I run from the upstairs bedroom. Once it arrived, I knew that you would be on your way.”

  Frank sat forward, that wasn’t what he had been led to believe. The mirror was haunting him, turning up where he went and not the other way around.

  “What do you know about the mirror?” he asked with trepidation.

  “Well if you’re following it pet, then I guess it’s got someone you love inside.”

  Frank took a sharp breath, he didn’t need to show any other reaction for the woman to know she hit the mark.

  “Ma, you’re getting to the best bit too fast,” came Audrey's voice from the kitchen. “You’ll scare him off, you know that he’s already thinking of running away.”

  Frank sat back in the chair. How could Audrey know something so personal about him, he hadn’t said anything about his thoughts to her?

  Mrs. Boswell sat back, “All in good time love.”

  Frank didn’t care about time he needed answers, and for them he had all the time in the world.

  5

  The Legend of the Mirror

  Frank watched Audrey carry in a gold edged tray, on it were three matching tea cups and a pot with a floral tea cozy on top. She placed the tray along with a plate of biscuits effortlessly on the coffee table between their seats. She passed Frank a fine bone china cup and saucer.

  Mrs. Boswell looked at her approvingly, and when he put his cup on the table she poured his tea.

  Frank’s hands began to shake as he realized that the two women in the room knew more than he ever could, the conversation with these women could change his life. He wanted to know everything, but he wasn’t sure that he would have the skills to ask.

  Audrey settled herself on the sofa next to her Mom.

  “So, this is my Ma,” said Audrey.

  “Oh, pet you don’t need to be so simple,” said Mrs. Boswell disapprovingly.

  “Simple is good Mrs. Boswell,” said Frank. “If you can tell me what you know about this mirror as simply as possible that is all I need to know for now.”

  “The mirror is a magical object, it consumes the person you love,” said Mrs. Boswell.

  Frank nodded he had already experienced that.

  “Then you follow it to unravel its secrets,” said Audrey.

  “But why?”

  “Because it attaches itself to the strongest witch in the coven,” said Audrey.

  Frank sat back in his armchair, had he heard her correctly? His Mom insisted they were from a coven of some sort, but he wasn’t sure back then if he should believe it.

  “The coven?” he asked.

  Both women nodded, “This island, all of us here are descendants of Hamilton witches.”

  He nodded, but it still didn’t make sense.

  “I’m a Shaman, not a witch,” corrected Frank.

  Both women laughed, and the tension dissipated slightly.

  “Frank, you are a witch and a Shaman, that gives you two gifts.”

  He didn’t agree with their choice of wording, his gifts felt like burdens.

  “I have a gift too,” said Audrey, sitting forward in her chair and closing the gap between them.

  “What is your gift?”

  “I can read minds. . .most of the time,” said Audrey. “Us Hamilton witches are unusual for the skills and powers that we have.”

  Frank sat back a little that made sense. It certainly explained how Audrey could tell that he was thinking about running away, he wasn’t sure he was glad that his cowardly instincts were on display. He watched the mother and daughter and wondered if he should be making his excuses to leave. He had come to find out the truth, but he wasn’t sure if he could listen to them objectively. All this talk of being witches reminded him of the scant conversations he had with his mom on the subject.

  “You mentioned that we are cousins,” Frank said, wanting to move away from the conversation about witches.

  “Yes, we are distant and through your grandmother. Everyone on the island apart from the odd tourist is your relative.”

  Frank nodded his head, maybe that was common in parts of Scotland like this, there were likely cousins that intermarried and in-breeding, he wondered if maybe that was where the streak of crazy came from. Mentally he wasn’t ready to use the word witch, eccentric and weird felt like a better fit.

  He nodded at the words, he hadn’t been around relatives before, Mom had no siblings and neither did Dad, so the idea of relatives was alien. What were you meant to do with relatives, apart from expecting them to lie for you to your commune?

  “How did you know that I would come here?” he asked, it was one of the real questions on his mind.

  “Aww pet the mirror came up after your Mom’s death, so we knew that you would follow it at some point, besides before that when you bought the house we knew you would come. We wouldn’t have sold it to anyone but you,” said Mrs. Boswell.

  Frank’s jaw dropped open, Mom had been living in a care home at the time he purchased the house. He bought it because when he was tracing their bloodlines, all trails ran to the island. />
  “Do you know that I’ve been to Salem, and North Berwick before, I found out about this island then. That’s when I saw the ad in the Scottish newspaper advertising the Hamilton Farm House on the island.”

  “And we sold it to you, but the thing is darling. It is your inheritance. We took your money but it’s still your money. The house should be and always was yours,” said Mrs. Boswell.

  “But. . .” Frank wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what.

  “Your Grandmother ran away from us here, and your Mom ignored us too, but now you’re back,” said Audrey with a smile.

  “But what is so important about me being here?”

  “Because you are our leader. That is why whatever is important to you, is important to all of us on the island. We want to serve you Frank and be your friends if not family,” said Mrs. Boswell.

  Frank’s eyes narrowed, the streets of London had taught him that nothing in this life was free.

  “But I don’t believe you,” said Frank, not sounding his words out in his head first.

  “It doesn’t matter if you believe us or not, the mirror has attached itself to you. It has done so because you are the strongest witch and the rightful heir of our Hamilton Coven,” said Audrey. Her brown eyes were saucer-like, and Frank could tell she was trying to probe his mind, trying to work out what it was that he was willing to accept.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you must have the wrong end of the stick. I used to live on the streets, these people with me are part of my commune. I found a cheap house and we needed a roof over our heads. I don’t know how long we are going to be staying on this island for, so you’ll need to find another person to head up your coven,” said Frank feeling his insides scream as he tried to gently let them down. “I just wanted to learn about the mirror and it seems we aren’t. . .” Frank protested. Pushing to his feet, he looked at the women and saw Mrs. Boswell nudge her daughter.

  “Frank, please take a walk with me around the island, let me show you the place,” said Audrey.

  He headed toward the door, opened it and ran outside into the fresh air trying to catch a breath. He was the leader of a coven, how was that possible? And they seemed to be waiting for him to arrive. He wasn’t comfortable being the leader of the commune, the last thing he wanted to be was the leader of a coven of witches and strangers.

  “Frank,” Audrey called out catching up to him.

  He didn’t want to look at the young woman who seemed to know more about him than he was willing to admit to himself. Then he did, and she took a step forward.

  In less than a second, she leaned forward and kissed him deep on the mouth. Frank’s eyes were open but he didn’t flinch, although he wanted to push her away, the warmth of her body against his was comforting. His body started to respond, to soften to hers. After what felt like a few minutes she pulled away, and he looked her in the eyes. Frank had always found Audrey attractive, from the very moment he had seen her, the unknown relative at his mom’s funeral. But he didn’t realize or hope that she felt the same way.

  “I. . .didn’t expect that,” he confessed.

  “I know.”

  Taking his hand, she led him away from her mother’s cottage.

  They walked in silence as she led him along the coastline of the island. The sun started to set, and an amazing pink skyline surrounded them.

  They sat on a fallen log, which Frank sensed was used as a bench. She looked comfortable. He guessed she came here often. With her alone, it was easier to relax.

  “Can I tell you a story?” asked Audrey.

  He held her hand still, but he didn’t say yes. She was the first woman that he had kissed since Jane, and he was worried for her. Wondering if the mirror would claim her too even though he knew deep down that she had kissed him.

  “Around us lies the most spectacular nature. The most beautiful colors and glory. Mother Earth provides for us, fish for our supper, and honey from the bees. Frank our ancestors had a Wiccan past.”

  He nodded, but he hadn’t agreed to hear her story. His silence at her request was taken as compliance. He listened because he understood that was what she wanted.

  “Witches on this Isle are Wicca. The Hamilton witches were known to be strong. Some of our ancestors clashed with the Oban witches. As I understand it, it was all disguised as clan warfare, but at its roots, two powerful families of witches, the Obans, and Hamiltons were vying for power and domination over each other. At its core, it was a power struggle for dominance.” Her eyes were distant as she looked out over the Irish sea. Frank watched the breeze move her hair, flicking it past her face then whipping it back. The ends of her hair as unpredictable as tips of flame. Red hue from the horizon cast a warm glow across her face and Frank wanted to turn and look at her, the woman who was next to him. But he didn’t dare, he kept his face forward looking out over the horizon. She seemed much more comfortable with stories that he knew would have been whispered around him, but never told directly to him.

  “The Obans were close to being defeated. They became determined to wipe out the Hamiltons, so in a tactical move they exposed Hamilton elites in the circles of King James.”

  Frank remembered him, the man who succeeded Queen Elizabeth the first during the Elizabethan era. Her nephew instigated a lot of witch hunts and executions. His book on demonology discussed rituals used by witches and created mass hysteria, some of which traveled across the Atlantic Ocean and infected the new country of America.

  “They exposed the negative rituals of some of the witches and painted it as Wicca,” Audrey continued.

  He knew she had waited a lifetime for this opportunity to sit and talk with him. Had he contacted her twenty years earlier he knew they would have had the same conversation. Sitting silently, he didn’t disturb her story.

  “Of course, King James knew that being Wicca meant that they weren’t obligated to his church, and in those days, there was no religious tolerance and that meant those witches would be outside his control. So that was why he targeted us, burned us, drowned us, drove us underground.”

  Audrey expelled a deep breath as if the hurt was something personal she had lived through.

  “Here on the island. People were burned at the stake, and there were hangings. The fig tree in your back garden that cradles the edge of the chalk cliff at the back of your property was used for many of them. Over the years the Hamiltons have communicated with their ancestors from under the tree because the energy of other realms is so strong back there.”

  Frank leaned into her, that was the reason he called himself a Shaman because he could communicate with the dead once he knew their song. Her twisted story was starting to take on meaning for him.

  “The Oban witches then decided to take things a step further. As if persecution from King James and being burned at the stake wasn’t already a harsh punishment. The Oban Coven communed with the Devil and made her a promise. The result of which was a curse, the mirror, it would catch the loved one of the head of the Hamilton witches,” she turned to look at him, he could see the colors of the sunset play on her face.

  He took a deep breath, he knew she was looking for a reaction from him. He wasn’t sure how to react, she could read his mind, but he didn’t want to verbalize his thoughts. He was used to being a private man.

  “But the mirror has a limit, we believe it can only catch one single loved one of the Hamilton Coven. Although it will always haunt you. It will always be one step ahead, but there is a way in which you can defeat it,” said Audrey.

  His shoulders crumpled as he thought of her words.

  “Can I just leave the house?” he asked, the instinct to flee rose within him again.

  “Yes, but your destiny will always lead you back here.”

  He hated conversations about his destiny especially when he wasn’t the one leading them.

  “How can I defeat it?” he finally asked.

  “That’s the right question,” she said
as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “We’re a fighting race Frank, running isn’t the way to resolve anything. The Oban made a covenant with the Devil to serve her if she suppressed the Hamilton witches. By taking a loved one, it means us Hamiltons hardly ever procreate.”

  Frank nodded, he understood, and he thought about her use of the word procreate, it seemed odd to hear a young woman refer to the act like that.

  “This is a lot of information to take on,” said Frank.

  “Of course it is, especially as it seems your Mom didn’t prepare you for your future.”

  The surprise spread across his face. Her loose use of the word made him want to cringe.

  “What do you think is meant to happen in my future?” he asked unsure.

  “You are meant to lead us,” she said as she got to her feet.

  Frank looked at her in the sunset, she had the wrong guy, she must have had the wrong guy. He stood with her, but he wanted to run away, at least until she wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t resist when he felt the warmth of her lips softly brush over his, this time he kissed her back, deeply and passionately.

  With the young woman in his arms Frank knew he had denied love. He had stamped it out whenever it had dared to raise its head. Blocked it before it could bloom, but Audrey was different she knew everything, knew what could happen to the ones that he loved. That made it okay for him to kiss her back, to equal her in passion. Audrey had been open with him, shared her knowledge, and although she saw him as some great destined hero, which he knew he wasn’t, he didn’t want to dash her dreams when the benefits were in his arms. Although he didn’t feel it today, maybe one day he would be able to move on and love her.

  6

  One Escapes

  Standing at her front door she kissed him again. Although he decided he liked Audrey, he wasn’t sure if Mrs. Boswell was watching from behind a net curtain, and what would she say. He worried about Mrs. Boswell’s response to her daughter’s advances on him. He wondered if she would think he was taking advantage of her. Audrey did seem to have a penchant for the fantastical. Maybe this is what girls were like in the countryside, he heard other men say country girls were easy. It wasn’t a problem to feel her warm flesh against him and smell her skin. But it woke a hunger that had been dormant, one he had chosen to ignore in a monastical show of devotion to Jane. He just hadn’t been with anyone for a very long time.