by J. C. Hart
She tossed the blanket aside and slipped her feet into Gran's slippers, drawing the faded blue robe around her. A quick glance at the clock said it was only 9pm and her tummy was rumbling—the last things she'd eaten were club sandwiches and a sausage roll at the after-funeral nibbles.
The house was silent as she padded down the stairs to the kitchen, flicking on lights as she went to chase away the gloom. Most of the curtains were closed but she knew that somewhere behind them the last of the sun was burning away.
Right then she missed her flatmate and best friend, Kelly. Missed her badly. On warm mid-December nights like this they would normally be sitting on the deck under the pohutukawa tree by now, wine in hand, music pumping, BBQ cooling after making dinner.
She swung the fridge door open and peered inside, dragging out some butter and the bread her gran kept in there because she couldn't get through a whole loaf before it went bad. She slathered it with butter and home-made blackberry jam then sat down at the little table. Buttons pushed through the cat door and nudged against her knee, his purr rumbling through her bones.
"Oh Buttons, I miss her too. But I'm glad you're here." He put his paws on her thigh and she rubbed behind his ears.
Her gaze fell on the DVD case, which she dragged over and opened. There was no note, nothing to hint at what might be on it so she got back up and trudged through to the lounge, shoving the rest of the bread into her mouth as she crouched to insert the disc.
Once she was settled on the couch, Buttons firmly ensconced on her lap, she pressed play and waited. The screen was black for a minute, and then her gran appeared, sitting on the very same couch as Alyssa, in almost exactly the same position. Alyssa moved to the other end of the couch.
"By now everything is finished. I'm buried and hopefully you're sitting on the couch at your new house." Gran sighed. "I wish I'd been able to see you before I passed, but I know how hard it was to get away from your mother and come down. I should have been more careful…"
Gran glanced away from the camera and then back again. "Do you remember those times we used to dance? And the little packets of herbs we used to make? I never really explained all of that. Never got the chance. Your mother realised what I was up to and stopped letting you visit. I should just come right out and say it, shouldn't I? You're going to find out sooner rather than later.
"We're witches, dear one. It runs thick in our blood, you and me especially. Your mother has it in her, and your little sister. Your Aunt Ronnie was stronger, though she ran into some trouble, and I think the loss of her sister hit your mother hard. She turned her back on magic and she couldn't bear the thought of you getting involved either. I had promised not to teach you, but I couldn't help myself. You're so strong, and being here in the Bay makes everything more powerful. I just wanted to pass on a few things. I hope that some of it stuck, because you're going to need those skills."
Gran took a sip of water, fingers shaking, and pursed her lips. Alyssa felt goose-pimples prickle her skin.
"There is no way easy way to tell you this, but the reason I gave the house to you is because I've kept an evil spirit confined here for years now, and my mother did so before me. I was never given a detailed reason, only told it was my duty, and now it is yours. There are spells in the books under my bed—the one with the red cover is what you'll need first. I don't know how many days I've been gone from the house, but it's important that you go now. Get the book, follow the spell to the letter and rebuild the protections placed on the house. We can't let him escape. Go, do it now, just in case."
The screen went black, though the counter kept ticking like there was more to come. Alyssa was glued to the couch, her fingers digging into the worn fabric. She hesitated before grabbing the remote and hitting pause.
It was too much information to compute, but the intensity in Gran's eyes made her move Buttons aside and run to the bedroom. She dropped to the floor, skinning her knees on the wooden boards as she scrabbled to get under the bed.
Alyssa dragged a box out, ripping the lid off and tossing it aside when she saw the red cover. It was crisp and full of handwritten notes and diagrams, and there at the very front was a short note:
Use the first spell in the book—it's the strongest and will bolster the protections already in place.
She turned the page and scanned through the list of items, shaking her head in confusion. None of this was familiar. Had Gran got dementia or something and gifted the house to the wrong person? Because Alyssa certainly had no idea what to make of this.
She put the book back in the box and paced the length of the bedroom, tugging on her earlobe as she went. She didn't think it wise to poke around in things she didn't understand, though if it was as serious as Gran was making out, that spell needed to be cast in order to keep this spirit contained.
Did Alyssa believe in ghosts?
No. She didn't. But she did believe in Gran, and she had felt a tingle across her skin when the old woman mentioned the witchiness in their blood. That at least had rung true.
It wasn't like she could call her mother, who hadn't even come back to the Bay to say goodbye to the woman who had birthed her, and Alyssa had no friends here, knew no one who might be able to unravel the mysteries of this book.
"Dammit, Gran. Why did you have to go and dump this on me? Surely there is someone better suited to taking care of your ghost." Alyssa flopped onto the bed, tears slipping down her cheeks as she sobbed in silence.
There had been too many long days recently, and she wasn't going to delve into the depths of witchcraft right now. Not tonight. If this spirit hadn't escaped so far—with Gran out of the house for near on a week—one more night wasn't going to make a difference. Alyssa drew the blankets back around her, not bothering to dry the tears from her eyes. She lay awake staring at the ceiling for far too long before the cat joined her and she finally managed to drift off to sleep.
Chapter Three
Alyssa could hear birds chirping outside and sunlight glinted through the curtain and off the mirror, right into her eyes. She pulled the pillow over her head and tried to shut out the noise on the street, but she was fully awake now and the need to pee had come over her.
Morning routine complete, she made her way to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. Her cup still sat there from yesterday, the coffee and sugar untouched in the bottom. Moments like these made her pleased she wasn't one of those snobs who needed to put the milk in first so that the boiling water didn't 'burn' the coffee. Like her flatmate. She rolled her eyes, though the ache in her chest reminded her how much she missed Kelly.
Maybe Alyssa could convince her to come down for a few days.
Maybe.
She slathered another piece of bread with blackberry jam, both of which she'd neglected to put back in the fridge. That really settled it—Gran wasn't coming back as a ghost because if she were going to, she'd have been wailing and moaning at Alyssa for not tidying up after herself.
The phone rang, its jingle echoing through the kitchen so loudly that Alyssa spilled coffee on her hand. "Shit." She put the cup down and reached for the receiver, holding it between her shoulder and head. "Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Miss Stewart?"
"Ah, yeah, who is this?" She licked the coffee off her hand and took another bite of the bread.
"It's Mrs Nolan, from the preservation society."
"Okay… What can I help you with?"
"I understand that you've taken possession of Connie's house, and I wanted to know when I could come over and discuss a few things with you."
"What about? Sorry, I'm still getting my head around owning the place and I don't really know why you need to speak to me. I'm not planning on making any changes to the house at this point anyway."
"It's about the ghost," Mrs Nolan said, quite factually.
Alyssa let out a sigh. So much for this ghost being a secret. "Okay. Right. Well, how about ten?"
"Ten would be wonderful, thank you Miss Stewart.
"
"Call me Alyssa, please."
"Certainly," Mrs Nolan agreed, though she didn't offer her own name. "You don't think there's any chance you could make some of your grandmother's famous scones?"
"Scones? What…" She sighed again. "I'll see what I can do."
"Wonderful. I'll see you at ten."
Alyssa hung up the phone and glanced around the kitchen. She didn't feel like her bread now, but she sculled her coffee and appraised the situation.
She was now in possession of a house, with a ghost, and apparently the entire town thought that she would just slip right into her grandmother's old role. She had a feeling they were all going to be mighty disappointed. And suddenly, she wasn't sure she really wanted this house after all. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
Alyssa grabbed her bag from the hall, checking that her car keys were there before locking the house behind her. Hell, maybe she should just leave it open—the ghost could get out and everyone else could take what they wanted. To hell with this legacy.
She made it to the footpath before the mournful meow of Buttons drew her attention back to the house. He sprang from the bushes, far too spryly for someone his age, and brushed up against her leg, demanding in that feline way that she reach down and scratch his chin, before he attempted to lead her back inside.
She watched him walk, tail swishing in the air, drawing her gaze up to take in the house. Had she even stopped to look at it from outside yet? To remember what it felt like to come here every summer?
Gran had left her this place for a reason, like she was the only one in the family who could continue the legacy—even though it wasn't one Alyssa wanted. Sometimes though, people got what they needed, not what they wanted.
What she secretly dreamed of was running a shop of some kind, designing jewellery and clothing, and quirky stuff. Kind of like the items Gran and her had made when she was younger, back before her mum had stopped all the visits.
Witch things, Alyssa realised with a start. Witch things. Damn it all. She did have it in her blood, had a yearning for it without even knowing what 'it' was.
"Breakfast will have to wait, Buttons. I need to do some shopping." She left the cat sitting on the welcome mat and headed to the store, grabbing fresh milk, cream, more bread and some other essentials before heading back to the house. It loomed before her, sunlight striking the front windows and making it seem brighter than it had a right to.
She accepted that there was unfinished business here, and that she couldn't leave until it was sorted, but she was going to make it her house, not some shrine to her dead grandmother. No matter how much she loved Gran, she wasn't going to become the town witch, and she wasn't really into this whole ghost business—though she would look into it again after Mrs Nolan and been and gone.
And there was no way in hell she was making scones.
Chapter Four
By the time Mrs Nolan knocked on the front door, Alyssa was feeling a lot more in control of her destiny—if a little nervous about this ghost business. So far she hadn't seen a peep out of this supposed ghost, so she wasn't too worried. Not yet.
"Come through," she said, acting like this was her house. It was her house, but still. "Would you like tea, or coffee?"
"I'll just have some water, thanks. I don't want to take up too much of your time." Mrs Nolan gave her a tight smile and took a seat at the kitchen table, her brow creasing a little at the platter of pikelets topped with jam and cream taking centre stage.
Yeah, not so little time that you didn't feel you could request scones, Alyssa thought. She grabbed a pikelet and devoured it as she took the seat opposite. "So, a ghost huh? What does this have to do with the preservation society?"
"Let's get straight to the point, shall we? You might not be aware that the Bay isn't quite like other towns. Around here we have more respect for the… unusual. In fact, you could say we welcome it."
"Right. I gather that my gran was the town witch or something?"
"Or something." Mrs Nolan nodded, her hands folding together on the table. "We have it on our records that there is a ghost trapped within this house, confined by the women of your line for centuries, and I'm here to make sure that you continue to do your duty. You must take up the mantle of the women of your line."
Alyssa choked on a pikelet when she heard the word 'duty'. She coughed, swallowed, and tried to regain her dignity. "I'm sorry, my duty? Am I being employed by the town of Kotahi Bay to protect it from this evil spirit, or are you just hoping that I'll find it in my heart to do what you want me to?"
Mrs Nolan's shoulders stiffened. "We most certainly will not be paying you for anything. I just wanted to make sure that you were aware of the facts regarding your grandmother's house."
"My house," Alyssa stated. "And what exactly is happening? Because Gran left a message about this ghost, and now you're here and you both say that I need to keep it contained, but no-one has been kind enough to elaborate as to why there is a ghost residing in my house in the first place, let alone why I must keep it contained."
"Humph, well, who wants a ghost running riot?" Mrs Nolan looked affronted.
Alyssa leaned back in her seat, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Right. Because that's what ghosts do. As far as I'm aware, they haunt houses, and I'm thinking that if it's confined to my house, it really doesn't matter to anyone else whether it's locked up or not."
"So it's going to be like that, is it?" Mrs Nolan pressed her lips together so hard that they all but disappeared into her mouth.
"Like what? You've told me nothing I didn't know already. Instead you've come into my house and made a bunch of demands without really giving me a reason to go along with them. So, I think we're done here. I've got stuff to do. You can see yourself out."
Alyssa took her cup to the sink and dumped the contents, ignoring the woman's indignant sighs behind her. She couldn't believe that Mrs Nolan thought she would give in to her demands with zero justification.
Alyssa slammed the cup on the bench and walked from the room, heading to the lounge while Mrs Nolan gathered her things.
The TV was still on, discarded when Alyssa had dashed upstairs the night before. She went to flick it off, and then sat on the couch, un-pausing it. The front door slammed as Mrs Nolan left and Alyssa allowed herself a smile. "She's more of a witch than I am."
Gran came back on the screen. "Hopefully you've done the ritual now, and things are safe again. I think it's time that I tell you the story of the ghost." Gran coughed into her handkerchief and Alyssa couldn't help but notice the blood which specked it. It was the first reminder that she hadn't been there for her Gran in her last days. It was only because the lawyer had called her specifically to tell her that Gran had passed away that she'd come down. If he hadn't, she might never have known.
Gran's voice drew her thoughts back to the present.
"The women of our family have kept this ghost at bay for hundreds of years now, passing him from mother to child. We brought him all the way from the old country to New Zealand when your great, great grandmother came over. He holds a great rage, and he refuses to move into the beyond. If unleashed there is no telling the extent of the damage he would do." Gran leaned forward and Alyssa did the same. The air seemed to sizzle, as if they were just sitting across a table from one another. "You must continue to keep him locked up, Alyssa. Promise me."
Alyssa wanted to promise, but there was no point right now, not really. Gran was dead and the words would be just words. It was too late for promises. Besides, she couldn't help but be curious about this so-called ghost.
In her limited knowledge, even she knew that they only stuck around for a reason—why had no one in her family decided to figure out what this one's was? Perhaps it was time someone did.
Hell, even if she wanted to keep it locked up, at this point she wasn't sure how she would go about doing that. Gran might have thought she'd instilled some basic witchiness in Alyssa, but it didn't feel na
tural, not like it was in her blood. Or maybe it was that her expectations of being a witch were just different from the reality?
She flicked off the TV, not wanting to see what else dear old Gran had to say for herself. It was time to get on with claiming the house as hers.
Back when she'd been a kid she'd loved the old 'cottage' feel of the place, but now it was claustrophobic and she just wanted to declutter, start over. There was too much of Gran here, too much that hinted at things she could have known but that had been stripped away from her when her mother barred Gran from their lives. She needed to see some change, and that was going to begin right here in the lounge.
Alyssa found some cardboard boxes in the laundry, probably from groceries, and grabbed a stack of newspapers that sat in a box by the fireplace. And then she began to pack away all the ornaments and figurines lining the mantle. Her fingers lingered on an intricately carved wooden box, but after a moment that was discarded too, leaving only a few family portraits, among them, curiously, was one of Angela and Gran standing close with their arms around each other's shoulders. There was something about the photo that made Alyssa think they had been a little more than just friends and neighbours.
She dumped that one in the box and then began to strip the walls of their cross stitch hangings and lame old paintings, leaving patches of vivid yellow paint marking the places where those items had once hung.
She busied herself for the rest of the day clearing out the things she didn't want, pushing furniture this way and that until finally she had a clean open space, minimal but comfortable seating, and her Gran's old La-Z-boy parked by the window. Now all it needed was a fresh coat of paint; but that could wait for tomorrow. The room looked a million times better already.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, wiping the sweat off her forehead as she answered. "Hello?"
"Lysie! What the hell are you doing?" Kelly's chirpy voice was shrill down the line and Alyssa held the phone away from her ear to compensate.