"The fact that you have faith in me is enough. Can I ask, has the spirit gone?"
"Yes, it has, and Abby has returned to her normal self. She seems to have very little memory. Though she sometimes asks where Victoria is, she does not seem able to remember who she is or where she saw her."
"And yet I suspect there is a but," Luke said as he poured the tea.
Jenny took the little china cup from him and smiled. The kitchen, the tea, the plant, everything reminded her of an old lady's house and yet the priest was a young man. Maybe this was just the way he found it?
"I just feel that it will come back, that she will come back. Victoria! It is as if I am waiting for the worst to happen. I've been talking to a lady who has been through something similar and she suggested that I research the house. I've been to the library but there isn’t much there and I wondered if maybe you could help me?"
This time it was Luke who stopped to take a sip of his tea. Jenny could recognize it as a delaying tactic only because she had just done the same. She could see him thinking, weighing up the pros and cons and she wanted to press him but decided it would be better to let him come to his own conclusions. Yet, she hoped that he would help. At last, he put the cup down and looked at her.
"I have been doing some research in the church records. They are quite extensive and go back to that time. The house was owned by the Pennyfords, Mary and Gabriel. It is true that they had a child called Victoria."
Jenny felt that sick feeling come over her and her blood ran cold. Even though she had been through all of this, part of her still hoped that it was just her twisted imagination. That Victoria never really existed.
"I see," she said. "Did you manage to find out any more?"
Once again, Luke seemed to hesitate. He poured them both another cup of tea. It was strong and probably not as warm as it should be and yet he sipped his gratefully. Jenny picked up her cup and she had to grip hard to stop the china cup rattling in the saucer. Quickly, she took a sip and let the lukewarm liquid offer her comfort.
Luke put down his drink as if afraid he would drop it and raised his eyes to her. There was fear there, but also determination.
"From what I can gather, Gabriel murdered Mary in a fit of jealous rage. The records aren't extensive but I believe the local vicar thought that he was abusing her before it happened. In those days, there was very little he could do about it. I do believe he spoke to the man but it did not do any good. Gabriel was committed because the murder was so horrific, he stabbed her so many times... in the bedroom, I believe."
Jenny felt herself shudder. The stain on the carpet and across the wall. Was that where Mary had died? Of course, it was, but who was powering the stain? Victoria or Mary? Then she wondered about the stain in the hallway.
"I have heard rumors that Victoria was hanged in the hallway. Can you tell me if that is true?"
"I have found out very little about the child. There is a record of her birth and there is a mention of her death and that she was not allowed to be buried in the churchyard. Only that is all I could discover. I wish I could have been more help...” his words trailed off and he looked down at his hands.
“I see,” Jenny said, and yet she felt a deep sense of dread. Was this over?
“I will keep looking and let you know if I find anything else."
Jenny managed a smile and yet she felt as if she was waiting... but waiting for what?
Days turned into a week and then two and nothing more happened. Mason's confidence was growing and soon he was back to the sweet and tender man that she had married.
There were no more strange occurrences and yet Jenny was constantly waiting, but waiting for what?
Abby was enjoying school and had made some friends and really, everything was perfect. Yet, Jenny would spend several hours each day researching online. It was as if she could not let it go and yet she knew it was more than that. Day after day she went back to Gail Parker's blog and each time she would see the Skype button. For long moments, her mouse pointer would hover over it and yet so far, she had not pressed it. Once again, she could not pluck up the courage and so she slammed the laptop cover closed and went back to her painting.
In the ballroom she had set up a canvas and a pallet of paints. When she returned she found both of them on the floor. Panic rose in her chest like flames. She was turning, backward and forward, looking for trouble. The hairs on her arms had not raised, the room had not darkened, and the air was pleasantly warm. What had caused this? Then she saw the curtains fluttering in the wind. The window was open. It could have been something as simple as the breeze. Jenny retrieved the paints and sat down to finish the last of her examples for her retreat.
After an hour she took her brush and slashed a big brown X across the painting. It was terrible. The perspective was wrong, the light was wrong, and the whole thing looked worse than a child’s first try. For some reason she couldn't concentrate and she knew she would get nowhere until she resolved it. Closing her eyes she let her mind empty. For the next two minutes she thought of nothing. Every time a thought intruded she pushed it aside and just let her mind clear. Only one thought would not go. That was Victoria. Even though the child was gone she needed to know why she had been here in the first place. It seemed silly but somehow, she knew she would have no peace until she understood. Opening her eyes, she went back to the laptop. Though she knew the chances of Gail answering her Skype were slim to none, she finally plucked up the courage to press the button.
The call was answered almost immediately and Jenny found herself looking at a woman in her mid-20s. She had long brown hair, kind brown eyes and though she was a little on the slim side, a friendly smile. She recognized Gail Parker from the photo on the website and spent the next few minutes explaining who she was. Gail had remembered her from their earlier email.
"One thing I really need to know is why she was here? Why was she haunting this place and what did she want?" Jenny asked.
"I’ve done a little bit of my own research," Gail said. "There is not much on your house but from what I can gather, the child witnessed the murder of her mother. Something like that would damage her soul but that doesn't explain why she's there. She must have died in the house or on the surrounding property and she must feel injustice at that death. Were there some accounts that she hung herself?"
"I have heard that," Jenny said. "But if she committed suicide then why would she haunt the place?"
"It's still possible that she might, because she might feel she was pushed to it. However, it is possible that she was murdered and it was made to look like a suicide. We have seen that before and that would definitely be enough to instigate a haunting."
"Is there anymore I can do?" Jenny asked.
"Hopefully, she has gone and gone for good," Gail said. "However, it is possible that the exorcism only sent her away. In that case she may come back. From what you have told me she's after a family. However, her idea of a family does not involve the father. Your husband would be in danger and from what you've told me, so would Abby. I believe she has bonded with your daughter and the idea of a friend for all eternity will draw her back to you. Your first line of defense is not to invite her in. She has been driven from the house, if you do not invite her back then she cannot enter."
"Thank you," Jenny said. "If she gets back in is there anything we can do?"
"You have to drive her out again but this time it will be harder. What you would really need would be for Abby to tell her to leave as well as the exorcism. Understand, that would be difficult and traumatic for your daughter and if at all possible, you do not want it to come to that. Remember to call us if you need help and if we can we will be there."
After Jenny had finished the call she sat at the kitchen table for some time. The thought of asking Abby to stand up to Victoria turned her stomach and once more she felt sick. How could she do that to her baby?
The house suddenly felt colder and less friendly. Of course, this was a worst-
case scenario. They had to hope that Victoria was gone and that she was never coming back. Yet, as Jenny left the kitchen and went back to her painting she felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. It was as if someone was watching her.
Chapter 20
Jenny couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that something was there, and yet no one else in the house could feel it. The stains had gone from both of the carpets and the house felt less oppressive. Yet, she often saw a shadow at the top of the stairs. Next to the balcony, where she had once seen the ghost of Victoria. She was finding it so hard to settle, and to relax, and yet she did not know why.
Today she was supposed to be finishing the last of her paintings. This was the third time she had tried to complete it and every time it turned out distorted. The light was perfect, she could see birds in the sky outside and the sun was clear and bright. So why did she feel chilled? Why was she looking for something that wasn't there? Picking up a brush she mixed some paint and chose a light blue. It was perfect for this sky and she could see it in her mind. The brush hovered over the canvas but she could not bring herself to touch it. So far, she had been in here over an hour and yet the canvas was as blank as when she started.
All she could think about was a way to stop Victoria. Or what would happen when she came back. It was no longer if in her mind, now it was always when. Yet, she had to hide it from Mason. He was angry with her, angry that she had brought them out here and that now she seemed to be destroying it. The funny thing was, both Mason and Abby had forgotten how bad things had gotten before. To them it was just an incident and not a very big one. Their minds seemed to have clouded over what really happened and invented a story that was much less scary. How could she explain to them that they had to be careful? Or should she just leave? The problem was, she didn't know if they would come with her.
Letting out a big long breath she touched the brush to the canvas and started to paint. Letting her arm flow she concentrated on nothing but the sky and soon it began to take shape.
As she leaned over to switch brushes and colors a shadow crossed behind her. Her heart clenched as she saw it skitter across the floor. Then something touched her back. A shriek of fear left her and she jumped up knocking the canvas and the paints to the floor. They scattered before her as she held up her arms in defense.
"Easy, easy there, it's just me," Mason said.
Jenny could see from the look on his face that he was not happy and she wondered if she would be getting another lecture.
Then his face seemed to relax and he smiled and took her hands.
"You need to talk about this," he said. "I know you are still afraid... but we are safe. The spirit has gone and is not coming back. Maybe it's time to live in the here and now, to just forget all about what happened."
Jenny did not know what to say. Inside she wanted to scream at him to get real. That he must understand the danger and be prepared. That they had to be ready. Yet, as she looked at him she knew he would not understand, could not understand, and so she nodded.
"Maybe you're right, maybe I should talk to someone."
Together they picked up the canvas. It was ruined and yet while she held it Jenny had a thought.
"I'm going to go see Luke, the priest. Maybe I can talk to him, maybe he can help me."
Mason nodded. "If you can't talk to me then it will be better than no one. Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I'm happy to go alone."
Soon, Jenny was in the car and traveling the twisty, narrow roads towards Crick Howell. Though she had no idea what to say to the priest it felt good to be doing something.
Luke brought her into the old-fashioned kitchen and once more made her a cup of tea in the old ladies’ china cups that seemed so out of place for such a young man.
"How you doing?" he asked.
Jenny sipped her tea and wondered what to say. Maybe she should just say okay and yet she was here and she needed help.
"I'm frightened it's not over. That this is just a reprieve and that one day she will be back."
"I understand... in some ways I feel the same so I have been doing some research and have made a number of calls. Though at first, I think they considered me a little nutty, eventually I got passed along to the right people. If anything else happens come to me, and if I find anything out I will come to you."
Jenny was filled with relief at the words of the man who felt like a friend. The next 3 quarters of an hour they drank tea and talked about village matters. There was to be an open day soon and he asked if she would help. Jenny agreed and even offered to do a painting to raffle for church funds. It seemed the least she could do, however, she just hoped she would be able to complete the painting in time.
When she got back to the house it was almost dark and Mason was cooking dinner. Chicken nuggets and peas for Abby and he had treated them to a couple of sirloin steaks and some sweet potato French fries. It smelt wonderful as she walked in the door and the house seemed so normal and so welcoming. Maybe talking to Luke had helped, maybe she just needed to voice her fears. To be heard, and now she could let it all go.
"The food's nearly ready," Mason said. "Looks like we're eating in front of the telly along with some DVD about Dalmatians. I'm sure I've only seen it about 300 times so it should be fun." He winked at her as she put her bag down on the counter.
"I’ll get the trays." Jenny started to prepare trays for them to eat on and yet she could not help but worry, where was Abby?
"Is Abby about?"
"She's playing with one of her dolls. We better be careful, I keep getting the question, you know... maybe we could have a dog?"
Jenny found herself laughing. It happened every time they saw this film but she had to admit the puppies were very cute.
"Maybe we should," she said before she even realized.
Mason was serving chicken nuggets onto a plate and his mouth fell open.
"Are you serious?"
Jenny didn't know. For one crazy moment she thought that maybe a dog would be protection against Victoria and then she shook her head.
"I don't know, it seemed like a good idea for a second or two."
Mason was laughing as he handed her Abby’s tray.
“Can I have ice cream for afters?” Jenny asked as she took the tray through to the living room and found Abby on the floor talking away to… for a moment she froze and then Abby lifted the doll. Letting out her breath, she helped her onto the sofa and then passed her the tray. Had she really thought that Mr. Good Bear was back?
Mason came in with two more trays and they all settled down on the sofa to watch the film.
The steaks were very good. Rare enough to bleed. They were soft and melt-in-the-mouth tasty. Normally, she would have taken the trays away but tonight she couldn't be bothered so once they had finished they just put them on the floor and then curled up together on the sofa. Abby was in between them, her eyes locked on the screen and the hundreds of spotty puppies.
She was leaning forward as the room filled with shadows. Jenny got up and put on the lights. It was unusual. Normally, they would watch the film in the dark and she saw Mason’s eyes question but he didn’t say anything. Abby was engrossed as the older dogs started the twilight bark. She loved that bit and would not move for anything.
The film got to the part where the puppies had been found and suddenly the lights went off and the telly died.
Jenny felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart was pounding against her chest. It was happening. She was here! Though she knew she should do something she could not move.
"I'll go grab a torch," Mason said so matter-of-factly it was obvious that he thought it nothing more than a power cut.
Mason stood but before Jenny could move she felt Abby stand from in between them.
Gradually, Jenny's eyes were adjusting to the dark. Mason had gone and she watched Abby walking towards the patio doors. Did she see a shape outside?
As Jenny opene
d her mouth to scream, no, she watched the shape coalesce and form. It was Victoria.
"Abby, come back here," she screamed but it was too late.
"Victoria wants to come in," Abby said.
Jenny was moving now and shouting but it was too late. Before she could cross the room to stop her Abby opened the patio door. "Come in," she said and stood to one side.
As soon as Victoria came inside she seemed to gain in strength and though she was still translucent Jenny could see her face. It bore a smile but it wasn't friendly. In fact, it spoke of malice and victory. The spirit was like a shadow on the world, like a shape that had been superimposed badly and was faint but there. Yet, she was real enough to hurt them, of that Jenny was sure,
"You are not welcome here," Jenny shouted.
Victoria spun around to face her and let out a shriek of anger. Raising her arm she swiped it from left to right.
As Jenny watched, Abby was flung across the room and hit the wall with a terrible thud. Jenny ran to her daughter and took her in her arms.
"Are you hurt?"
Abby shook her head but there were tears in her eyes.
"I don't understand," Abby said. “She is my friend.”
"You have to tell her to leave, you have to tell her you don't want her here anymore," Jenny whispered the word so only Abby could hear them but she could see her daughter was afraid and was shaking her head.
Jenny put herself in between Abby and Victoria and stood to face her. At the same time Mason ran back into the room with a torch. The beam sliced through the darkness and where it intersected with Victoria it seemed to cut her in two. It was as if she was a creature of the dark and where the light touched her she was banished. Could they use this? Somehow, Jenny doubted they could and yet still it felt positive.
Once more, Victoria shrieked in anger and Mason was sent flying across the room. He hit the wall and fell to the floor.
"What do you want?" Jenny screamed.
The Haunting of Shadow Hill House Page 13