Alice looked at Jack, and he squeezed her hand gently.
“Are you up for this?” he asked.
“Definitely!” she grinned. “I can’t wait.”
They followed Maggie into a small room, with a modest bar in the corner and a scattering of old, round wooden tables and stools. The walls were flowery, as was the carpet and curtains, and with the subdued lighting, it looked a bit like an old pub. Sitting at one of the larger tables were about six people, all busy chatting while they were finishing their drinks. Alice recognised Chris and Mary from the group and smiled as Jack introduced the others. The atmosphere was warm and friendly and she quickly felt at ease as they discussed the plans for the night ahead.
“John and Mary, can you start with EVPs tonight. Chris and Janet, you take the EMF meters. Jack, would you set up the IR cameras please.” As Maggie efficiently delegated, Alice was wondering what on earth EVPs, EMF meters and IR cameras were. “Emma and Julie, are you okay helping the others set up while I fill Alice in on all our paraphernalia?”
As the group headed for the stairs, carrying their heavy bags and equipment, Maggie sat back down next to Alice.
“You’ll hear us talking about EVPs. That’s Electronic Voice Phenomena. We leave digital voice recorders running in both the rooms and sometimes, if we’re lucky, we find voices recorded on them that you can’t hear at the time. The voices are usually those of the spirits. Sometimes, we ask questions, other times we just leave the recorder running to see what happens.”
“Wow, do you really get voices from ghosts on those recorders?” Alice was fascinated.
“Oh yes, love, not every time, but we often get something. Now, EMF meters are simple devices that measure the electromagnetic field in the room; the energy from a spirit can affect the electromagnetic field and these meters have become an important tool for a lot of ghost hunters. IR cameras are just infra red cameras that can see in the dark, we leave them running and then go over the footage afterwards; we also carry hand held video cameras.”
“I had no idea there was so much technology involved,” said Alice, “I just assumed it was a group of people walking around an old building waiting for something spooky to happen.”
Maggie grinned, “I’m afraid this isn’t the most exciting venue tonight, but that’s not a bad thing, it’ll give you a gentle introduction. We don’t want you getting so freaked out that you never come back. We believe the two bedrooms at the top are haunted by two different spirits. We’ve managed to make contact a few times, but they’re not always in the mood to comply so it can be very quiet sometimes. However, occasionally we make contact with a child, and she’s anything but quiet. Right, are you ready?”
“Yes.” Alice got up, and headed for the door.
“Wait. Just one more thing.” Maggie was rummaging in her large bag and pulled out a small purple card. “As you know, I’m a medium. If you ever need a reading or any guidance spiritually, just call me.”
Alice took the card and looked at it. It was a homemade business card with Maggie’s name and mobile number on. She wasn’t sure why Maggie would think she’d need her guidance, but she thanked her and absently popped the card into her coat pocket.
When they joined the rest of the group in the first bedroom on the top floor, the equipment was set up and they were just about ready to begin. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and expectation, and the group were engaged in jovial banter as they finished checking the cameras.
“Okay guys, lights out!” called Maggie, and the room was thrown into darkness.
*****
Jemma smiled as she watched Alice hold Jack’s hand in the dark. She was so glad they’d got together, they were clearly made for each other, and it was good to see Alice smiling again. She hadn’t felt like going tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for spooking a group of ghost hunters, especially now that Alice was one of them, but Susie had persuaded her at the last minute.
“Is there anyone here?” called Maggie, her clear voice breaking through the silence. “Who are you? Did you die here?”
“Here we go,” said Susie, “better not disappoint them.” And with that, she knocked loudly on the table next to her.
“Are you a child? Knock once for no and twice for yes.”
Susie knocked twice and laughed when she saw the excited reaction of the group.
“Are you alone?”
Susie knocked once and the group gasped.
“Are there others here with you?”
Two more knocks led to more excited gasps.
After about ten minutes though, Jemma started to lose interest and decided to go for a wander around the house. As she walked through the nearest wall, she found that she was in the second room that was being used by the ghost hunters. The cameras were running, silently filming any possible movement. They wouldn’t see her though, as she wasn’t using enough energy to make herself visible to the living world. She stood quietly and looked around at the equipment, and then noticed that a voice recorder had been left on. She walked up to it and stared at it, aware that it was there to catch the disembodied voices of ghosts. Ghosts like her!
“Alice?” she said, quietly into the recorder, “It’s me.”
She stood very still for a moment, staring at the recorder. She had tried so many times to make contact with Alice and failed, why should this time be any different? It was time she accepted her fate; she was dead, trapped in a dimension she wasn’t meant to be in, and unable to talk to her best friend. She could only watch as Alice continued her life, but one day, Alice would grow old and die, hopefully naturally, and move on to her next world, and then what? She’d still be here, still trapped, still alone. Only she wasn’t alone. She had Tom and Susie, but Tom was wrapped up in his own troubles, and Susie, although fun and sweet, was always going to be a child. Was this really her fate? She remembered the moment at her funeral when she had realised that she had never meant to die, and how she had automatically assumed that this had meant an easy way out of this place. But she was still here, still no wiser as to how she was going to leave.
Except, she did have a clue. Hadn’t Max told her to find a thingy-hole, whatever that was? Surely that was a start? All she had to do was find out exactly what it was, then find one and finally work out how the hell it was going to get her out. Easy! Another thought occurred to her, if this thingy-hole could get her out of there, where would she go? Would she end up in yet another dimension, or her final resting place, wherever that might be, or maybe she’d find herself in a different universe altogether. She’d heard about parallel universes, but she’d never paid much attention. Maybe it was time she had another chat with Max. He seemed to be the only person who knew anything about this, or at least, the only person willing to talk about it. Tom had known what Max had meant, but had dismissed it.
The thought of talking to Max again though, reminded her of the feeling of unease she had felt the last time she had spoken with him. She would rather not have to talk to him unless she absolutely had to, he still gave her the creeps.
“Hey,” Susie popped her head through the wall, “why are you in here on your own? You’re missing all the fun!”
Jemma smiled at her young friend, and put her thoughts to the back of her mind.
“I just felt like looking around the hotel.”
“There’s not much to see,” said Susie. “Do you want me to show you around?”
“Okay, but what about your ghost hunting friends? Won’t they be wondering where you are?”
“They’ve got more than enough evidence to sift through next week. Anyway, I’m getting bored. Come on, let’s go.”
Five minutes later, they were sitting in the bar having finished the short tour of the small hotel.
“Shame about Tom not coming tonight,” Susie said, sitting on top of the bar with her legs crossed.
“Hmm. Tell me about Tom. Was he married when he was alive?” Jemma asked, casually.
“No. Why? Do you
fancy him?”
“No, of course not,” she lied.
“Yes, you do.” Susie jumped up excitedly. “Jemma fancies Tom!” she sang.
“Susie, shut up!” snapped Jemma. “Anyway, what do you know about Max?”
“Oh my god, don’t tell me you fancy Max as well?” Susie looked suitably horrified.
“Don’t be silly, of course I don’t. I’m just thinking of having a chat with him, that’s all. He seems to be the only one around here who can tell me how to get out of here.”
“You need to watch Max,” Susie looked serious now. “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“You said that he was just a harmless old spook.”
“That was Tom, not me. Look, Max is bad news, Jemma. Be careful.”
“I have to talk to him in order to get information out of him, no-one else is going to tell me. Surely he can’t be that bad?”
Susie’s voice took on a new, urgent sound as she replied. “Jemma, Max is dangerous. In fact, I’d go as far as saying that he’s evil. Stay away from him, or you may just regret it.”
Chapter 7
The following morning, Jemma was sitting alone by the kitchen window staring out into the garden, now a spectacular scene of stunning colours; brown, yellow, orange, red, every autumnal shade imaginable. It seemed ironic to her that something so beautiful, did in fact come from death. The dry, crisp fallen leaves had once been vibrant and alive – a bit like her. She had been so full of life and vitality, and now she was just like the leaves – dead!
Being dead was certainly nothing like she had ever imagined, not that she had ever dwelled on it. Although she had never considered herself to be religious - she had never gone to church except for the odd wedding, and her mum’s funeral - she had assumed that when she did eventually die, she would go to Heaven and be reunited with her mum. But this? This was worse than she could ever have imagined. She couldn’t be with her loved ones who were living, nor be reunited with her dead family. Was this purgatory? Was this punishment for not being a better person? If she was here because she wasn’t meant to die, then why did she die in the first place? The questions were spinning around in her head, tormenting her, leaving her with a feeling of desolation and hopelessness.
“Hi.” Tom’s voice interrupted her pensive mood. “Are you alright?”
“Hmm, just thinking.” She didn’t turn around.
“How was the ghost hunting last night?”
“Okay,” she sighed, and turned to face Tom. “Actually, I was a bit bored. Spooking people is alright at first, but you quickly tire of it”
“I know,” he smiled, “that’s why I didn’t come.”
“Alice was there, with Jack. They were together. You know, properly together.”
“Really? That’s good, they’re well suited.” He looked at her, seemingly aware that she wasn’t her usual cheery self. “What are you up to today?”
“Oh I don’t know. I don’t really feel like doing anything.”
“You look like you could do with a bit of a distraction. Why don’t you come with me to a special place I go to when I’m in need of cheering up?”
“Where?”
“You’ll see. Come on, it’ll do you good.”
“Okay,” sighed Jemma. “Thanks.”
“Hold on to my hand,” he instructed her, “and close your eyes.”
When she opened them again, she found herself standing on the most beautiful beach she had ever seen. The wide expanse of soft white sand stretched for miles ahead, and the deep blue, calm sea was sparkling in the sun as if someone had sprinkled silver and gold glitter onto it.
“Wow,” she cried, forgetting that she was still holding on to Tom’s hand, “this is fantastic. Where are we? Seychelles? Bahamas?”
“Norfolk!” smiled Tom, looking pleased with her delighted reaction.
“You’re joking!” Jemma looked around again, noting the absence of a fun fair, donkeys and amusement arcades, normally what she’d associate with an English seaside. In the distance, a lone figure was walking along the water’s edge, with a dog running excitedly ahead looking like a tiny blot on the unspoilt, serene beach. Looking away from the water, she saw huge sand dunes with clumps of long grass waving gently in the breeze. They were so tall that she couldn’t see what was on the other side, adding to the feeling of isolation. The bright, crystal clear October sunshine reflected off the sand and bounced back onto the water, making the whole scene look like a shimmering image of perfection.
“How do you know this place?” she asked, her eyes taking in every detail.
“I used to come here as a boy for family holidays. There’s a row of Victorian cottages just on the other side of those sand dunes, less than a five minute walk away. One of the cottages was owned by some friends of my parents, and every summer we’d come and stay in the cottage for two weeks while the owners went abroad.”
“You’re very lucky to have come somewhere so lovely as a child,” said Jemma, her only memories of seaside holidays being weekends at Brighton and Hastings, which, although she had always loved, were filled with noisy, over-crowded beaches and kiss-me-quick souvenirs. The complete opposite of this place.
“I’ve got many happy memories here. I spent hours playing on this beach - I’ve built more sand castles than you could imagine. Me and my brother used to hide behind the dunes there, pretending they were fortresses and that we were hunting dragons and demons. My father would sometimes pretend to be a monster and would chase us into the water, where we’d have a water-fight. Then my mother would find some shade by the dunes, and lay out a picnic for us.” Tom looked sad as he recalled his nostalgic memories.
“It sounds like you were all very close,” said Jemma, remembering what Susie had said about his mother’s absence at his funeral, which didn’t quite fit in with her image of a happy and close family.
“Yes, we were once. It’s all different now. My father died the year before me, and my brother moved to Manchester after he graduated, so my mother’s on her own now. She never comes here now. That perfect, happy family doesn’t exist anymore.”
Jemma looked at Tom and felt an overpowering wave of affection towards him which took her completely by surprise. She wasn’t entirely sure where the feeling came from, whether it was pity, empathy or something far deeper and, afraid that she was going to say something stupid, she gave his hand a comforting, silent squeeze.
She looked up at his face and smiled. “Susie said something about you visiting your dad at the cemetery, are you buried there too?”
Tom’s eyes clouded over as he looked away into the distance. “No,” he said bitterly, “it was my only wish and she wouldn’t even grant me that.”
“Who? Your mum?”
“Yes. She knew that I wanted to be buried next to my father, but she had me cremated and got rid of the ashes. So much for being a close family!” he said, bitterly. “I think that’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was meant to die, Jemma, unlike you. I died of a brain tumour, it was diagnosed a week before I died, and my last request was that I was buried next to my father.” He stared angrily out at the vast sea, clearly still devastated by his mother’s betrayal.
“Tom, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Jemma studied Tom’s handsome face, now filled with a mixture of anger and pain. She desperately wanted to ask why his mother had been so cruel, but didn’t want to upset him any further, so she decided to keep her questions for another time, and instead stood quietly next to him, staring out at the distant horizon in a congenial silence. She stole a discrete sideways glance at him, admiring his handsome profile - his straight nose, strong chin and long eyelashes. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she didn’t need to, she knew them by heart now, the deep emerald green which flashed fiercely when he was angry, but which also showed a man who was intelligent and kind. It was the way they twinkled as he smiled though, that Jemma lo
ved the most, the corners crinkling as they hinted at his sense of humour and good natured temperament. She sighed as she wondered whether ghosts ever fell in love with each other, but wistfully pushed the thought out of her mind, as the chances of anything romantic happening between them seemed pretty remote.
“Let’s walk,” she said, softly, and linked her arm through his.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit distant lately.” He paused and looked at her, his eyes smiling again. “When you arrived you were like a breath of fresh air, I think both Susie and myself needed someone like you to come and ruffle our feathers. It’s easy to become complacent and drift through each day on autopilot. Your arrival, and refusal to accept your fate, gave us a bit of a shake-up. But it also brought back memories of when I first arrived, which has made me ask myself some questions that I’d been avoiding.”
Jemma stopped and turned to face him, looking up again into his strained face. “Is the fact that you’re not buried next to your father the only reason you’re here? I get the feeling that there’s more to it.”
“Yes,” he sighed, “there is, but I don’t want to talk about that now.”
“Why? Jemma frowned, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh Jemma, of course I trust you. But it’s not about trust, it’s something that I can’t talk about, to anyone. It’s personal.” He touched her arm lightly, hoping to see her smile return, but her frown had deepened and he could see that she wasn’t going to leave it there.
“That’s all well and good, but it’s not just you this affects. What about Susie?”
“What about Susie?” Tom looked genuinely confused.
“She’s lonely, Tom. She misses her mum and desperately wants to go home. I think it’s possible that she could come with me when I go, but she won’t even consider it because of you. She doesn’t want to leave you behind on your own. Don’t you see? Because you won’t face whatever it is that’s troubling you, you haven’t got a chance of ever moving on, which means you’re stopping Susie from moving on as well.”
Love In The Wrong Dimension (Romantic Ghost Story) Page 7