by Helen Phifer
***
Crosby came running in with the young lad. He took one look at the sister whom he recognised from the convent and nodded. Patrick looked as if he was already dead. His face was so grey and his lips were hanging apart. There was a line of spittle dribbling from them and Crosby’s first thought was that it was starting all over again.
When the ambulance finally arrived and Father Patrick was driven away, Crosby took one look at the panic-stricken nun and felt his blood run cold. He was scared to ask her what was wrong and why she’d come to visit Patrick. He hated that he wasn’t man enough to say it out loud. He didn’t need her to tell him something was happening up at the convent. The very fact that she was here and Patrick looked on death’s door was answer enough.
‘Sister, would you like a lift back up to the convent?’
He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth, but he was a policeman and reckoned that up to now he’d been a pretty good one. He didn’t want to turn into the ignorant man his old sergeant had become before he retired.
‘If it’s not too much trouble, although I really don’t want to go back there.’
Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t… ‘Why would you not want to go back, Sister?’ You stupid bugger, now you’ve done it. You’re almost as dead as Patrick – should have kept your mouth shut. He shook his head to try and get rid of the voice in his head. He didn’t need some smug inner self telling him he’d just sealed his own fate. He showed her to the car, opening the door for her, and set off feeling as if someone had lodged ice down his spine.
‘My name is Isabella – I don’t think I told you earlier. I don’t want to go back to the house because I don’t like it. There’s something wrong with that house. It gives me bad dreams.’
He couldn’t answer because he didn’t know what to say, so he continued driving. ‘What happened with Father Patrick?’
‘We were talking about the convent and he was trying to tell me something, but he couldn’t speak. His words were coming out all jumbled as if he had something in his mouth. He’d been fine moments earlier.’
He stole a glance at her. She was staring out of the window. Her delicate fingers were twisting the crucifix around her neck so tight that the gold chain was starting to mark her skin. The drive to the house came into view and he saw the young woman physically shrink back into the seat as if she was trying to protect herself. She didn’t speak. He turned onto the gravel drive, all the time berating himself for being so selfish. As the house came into view so did a group of children who were all playing a game and running around screaming and shouting.
‘Blimey, they’re noisy. Are they always like this?’
‘Yes, they are. They’re very well behaved though and always do as we tell them; they seem to know that when they are inside the house they have to be quiet, so as soon as they go outside they let off steam. I love watching them play – such innocence.’
Crosby nodded. He stopped the car and watched as a young boy no older than ten ran towards the car, waving at the sister whose name he hadn’t even wanted to ask for fear of getting dragged into whatever it was that was happening. The nun waved back. ‘Thank you for bringing me back, Sergeant. I hope Father Patrick will be all right.’
‘It was my pleasure and I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll go to the hospital and speak with him now. See what he thinks he was doing giving us all a fright. Take care, Sister, and if you need any help you know where to find me.’
He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. He didn’t want to help unless he had to. She got out of the car and the young boy wrapped his arms around her. She bent down and hugged him back. Crosby would never forget the look of sadness on her face; it would haunt him for the rest of his days.
He drove straight to the hospital where he was told to come back later. Father Patrick was resting after having a stroke. There was nothing he could do at the moment except to bring him some things up later on. He left, not sure what to do. He could go back to the convent and ask to speak with the nun. He should go back and speak to her, but the fear that lodged in his heart each time he thought about that place was getting worse. Instead he went back to the station where he spent the next hour locked in his office twiddling his thumbs.
***
Sister Isabella walked back into the convent with a heaviness inside her heart, which was worse than ever. She didn’t want to be here; she didn’t think that anyone should be here really. Those dreams were distressing her too much. She’d never hurt a child – it wasn’t in her. She couldn’t even watch a chicken being plucked – it made her skin crawl – so why did she dream each night of taking Albert by the hand up to the attic and then slicing open his throat with her own hands?
It was making her feel sick. Each night the dream was getting more vivid. Last night she had heard the bone in his neck crack under the pressure of the knife because she’d pressed down so hard. She’d woken up and had to run to the toilet to throw up.
The house was unusually silent, which was a rare moment indeed. All the children were outside being supervised by the other nuns. She had no idea where the mother superior was. Isabella began to trudge up the stairs to her room. Taking the clean sheet from the bottom of the bed that she’d put there before going to visit the priest, she began to fashion a clumsy noose from it. She had no idea what she was doing and if she had been able to she would have given herself a good shaking, but her mind felt detached from her body. She wasn’t thinking straight at all.
Going out onto the landing, she stood in the middle by the banisters and looked down. There wasn’t anyone around. The house had never been this quiet since the day she’d arrived, and Isabella knew that the house had something to do with how she was feeling and why it was empty. It wanted her to do it; it was waiting on the sidelines for her to throw herself from the banister. This house was a living, breathing entity – of that she was sure.
Fastening the sheet around her neck as tight as she could with shaking hands, she wanted to run away, but her legs wouldn’t let her. She then tied the other end to the smooth oak railing and climbed over it. Balancing on top like a circus performer, she thought about how she’d always loved watching the trapeze artists when she was a girl. Happy thoughts of her childhood ran through her mind and she blinked as if she was waking up from a trance.
Realising she was standing on the banister about to throw herself off, she tried to lean backwards – better to fall onto the landing floor behind her than forwards to her death. She heard Albert scream her name and tried to launch herself backwards, but she couldn’t. An invisible pair of hands shoved her from behind. Instead of landing on her back on the landing floor, she fell to her death. The sound of Albert’s screaming rang in her ears as her neck snapped.
***
Mother Superior Maria Wilkes ran in to see what the cause of all the commotion was and screeched as she crossed herself. She pulled Albert into her so he no longer had to look at the grotesque marionette dangling from the first floor landing. The other nuns began to come inside and she screamed at them to keep the children out. Passing Albert to Florence, she watched as the woman ushered the hysterical child out of the house, closing the door behind her. Maria ran as fast as she could upstairs where she tried her best to pull Isabella back towards the safety of the first floor landing, but she couldn’t move her. The girl was dangling there, obviously dead, and Maria screamed in frustration.
Why, why would she do this? It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. Dear God, please take Isabella into your loving arms. She devoted her short life to you. Please don’t let her down when she needs you the most. Tears began to fall from her cheeks at the helplessness of the situation.
***
Crosby was staring out of the window when Tony came charging through the office door as if the building was burning.
‘Need us now, up at the convent. Sudden death.’
Crosby felt the blood drain from his face as he turned cold. It had beg
un despite him not offering the lovely Isabella any support. The heavy feeling in his stomach made it hard to move fast.
‘Who is it?’
‘Don’t know – one of the nuns. They’ve only gone and chucked themselves off the first floor banister.’
Crosby felt his skin crawl. He knew that when they got there sad, beautiful Isabella would be the person they would find. He’d let her down. He could have warned her and he didn’t. He passed the keys to his beloved Wolseley to Tony who did a double take.
‘Are you sure, Sarge? You never let me drive.’
Nodding his head was about the limit of communication that Crosby could provide at this moment in time.
‘Bloody hell, you’ve gone a funny colour. Is everything okay?’
‘No it’s not and it never will be. Shut up and get me up to that godforsaken house as fast as you can without killing us both, will you.’
Tony knew better than to argue with him and did as he was told, driving towards the convent as fast as possible.
Chapter Fifteen
Ollie saw Kate smile as his van rounded the bend. She had come over tired and didn’t have enough energy to keep up with the girls on their bikes. Both girls waved frantically at him as they stood next to her, holding their bikes up. He grinned at the sight of the three of them waiting for him. Parking up he got out and ran around to lift the bikes into the back.
Once they were safely stowed and the girls were inside the van he whispered into Kate’s ear. ‘I’ve got a headache just looking at those bikes. They’re awful.’
She laughed and pushed his arm. ‘You’re telling me. I can’t concentrate on anything. I feel as if my eyeballs have been tortured. They wouldn’t go for the lovely pastel pink and lilac bikes most other girls would.’
‘They’re cute kids, almost as cute as their mum.’ He bent towards her and stole a kiss before walking around to get back in. He didn’t know if she wanted to go public about their relationship yet although she had no reason to hide it. Kate climbed in and sighed.
‘Thank you for this. I wanted to go into the village before the post office shuts. If you take me home I can get my bike and we’ll ride there.’
‘Are you sure? Would you not like me to just drive you there and wait for you?’
‘No thanks, I don’t know how long I’m going to be. Father Joe suggested I go and speak to Beatrice Hayton to see what she can tell me about the house. I could be some time if she’s free. The girls can ride around the village whilst I’m chatting with her.’
‘No problem. Is that the nosy old bird who runs the post office then?’
‘I think so, yes it must be.’
***
Before long Ollie pulled up outside the front of the house, which looked beautiful in all its glory in the daylight. It was only when the sun set and the sky turned black that it took on a sinister appearance, well to Kate it did. Ethan and Jack were sitting on the front steps and waved at them as Ollie parked up.
‘Dinnertime already?’
Ollie waited until both girls had got out. ‘Sort of, well more like a coffee break. They won’t stay inside the house on their own. The pair of them have been jumpy all morning. They’ve driven me mad.’
Kate didn’t know what to think. She didn’t want this house – her house – to be haunted. She wanted people to come here and stay for a holiday, not be afraid to come anywhere near it.
‘What am I going to do? Everyone is getting scared to be inside it.’
‘Ah you’ve picked up on that?’
‘It’s pretty hard not to. I’m a little bit afraid myself. It’s only the fact that I’ve invested every single penny I have into it that is making me determined not to be as scared as the rest of you.’
‘If you can get the priest to come and bless the house, surely that will make a difference? I really don’t understand how a house of God can be so…’ He paused as if not wanting to say it out loud, but for want of a better word said: ‘haunted.’
‘You think it is then?’
Ollie shrugged, indicating that he had no idea what to think. They got out of the car. Kate went to retrieve her bike from the shed and Ollie went back inside, closely followed by Jack and Ethan. Kate shouted to the girls to follow her and they set off, all three of them in a line.
***
Ollie watched from the upstairs landing window and he smiled, putting his fears about the house to the back of his mind. He was going to get his old mountain bike out of the garage when he went home and give it a service. He could leave it here and then when the work was done they could all go for bike rides. In the space of a month he’d gone from lonely widower to a family man and he loved it. He thought the girls were funny and very much like their mum, and he knew he was going to enjoy spending time with them.
***
Before long they arrived at the village. The post office was the biggest shop in the square and Kate headed straight for it. ‘If you girls wait outside I’ll buy you some sweets and pop.’
Both of them nodded. She went inside the shop, which was gloomy compared to the bright day outside. An older man was at the counter collecting his pension and by luck the lady serving him was who Kate assumed was Beatrice. Kate picked up some ice-cold bottles of cola from the fridge and filled two bags with an assortment of sweets, then stood in line to pay. She normally wouldn’t fill the girls with so much sugar, but they were going home and it would serve Martin right if they were hyper and drove him mad. The man turned to leave and smiled at her. She smiled back.
‘Just these, please.’
‘Hello, you must be the lady the whole village is talking about.’
Kate felt her cheeks start to burn. How did they all know about her? She kept herself to herself and only Ollie knew about her past. She wondered if he’d told the lads who might have told their mums or girlfriends all about her sordid life.
‘Well I’m Kate, but I don’t know if I’m the one everyone is talking about or not.’
The grey-haired woman with the warmest smile she’d ever seen lifted her hand to her mouth.
‘Oh forgive me, that sounded awful. What am I like? Forever getting my words mixed up and saying the complete opposite to what I meant. I should have said: are you the lady who has bought The Convent, which the whole village is talking about? I’m sorry.’
Kate felt her shoulders relax and she laughed. ‘Phew that’s a relief. I thought you were going to tell me some awful gossip about myself. Yes I am. Is that what it’s officially called – The Convent?’
‘Yes it’s always been called that, probably because it was, you know, back in the 1930s. How are you getting on? It’s been empty for an awful long time.’
‘Considering that it has – not too bad at all really. It’s quite a solid house. Do you know anything about its history? I know some bits and pieces, but I’d really like to find out more about the place.’
Both women were skirting around the obvious facts. Kate didn’t want to blurt out that she thought it was haunted and Beatrice didn’t want to upset the woman she barely knew and might turn into a good customer.
‘I do know pretty much everything. It’s quite a long story. How long have you got?’
Kate looked back over her shoulder at the girls who were mid-argument and bored of waiting around for her.
‘Not very long I’m afraid judging by those two outside. It’s only a matter of minutes before there’s a full-scale blowout.’
‘Kids, they don’t half test your patience at times, but we wouldn’t swap them for the world.’
She gave Kate a knowing wink and she smiled back.
‘Would you like to come up to the house, see what I’ve done with it and we could have a coffee and a chat? The girls are going home around six so any time after then would be great. I’ve also asked Father Joe if he could call around that time. It would be really nice to have some female company though. I’m stuck in the middle of a small army of men at the moment.’
‘
Lucky you – that builder is a bit of eye candy, isn’t he? Such a shame his wife died so young.’
Kate nodded, wishing she’d come here sooner. She liked Beatrice even if she was a gossip.
‘I would really love to come for coffee and have a look around. I won’t be able to stop for long. I don’t go anywhere near that place once it starts to get dark. I can’t believe you’ve been living there on your own. You’re very brave.’
‘So people keep telling me. I haven’t had any major problems.’ She wondered why she’d just lied. Beatrice probably already knew about the head and God knows whatever else was happening up there.
‘I’ll be there around six because I don’t close up here until five-thirty if that’s okay with you.’
‘Brilliant, thank you.’
She paid and turned to leave, but not before she caught sight of the friendly woman behind the counter crossing herself. Kate felt as if she’d been immersed in an ice-cold bucket of water. Her dream home had turned into a house of horror and she felt as if she was living her worst nightmare. The girls were now standing apart from each other, clutching on to their bikes. Feeling flustered she went back outside.
‘What’s the matter with you two?’
Summer pointed at Autumn. ‘She started it.’ Autumn stuck her tongue out at her sister. Kate passed them their drinks and sweets.
‘Come on, let’s go and sit on the bench over there and have ten minutes. We’ve had a busy morning and I don’t know about you two, but I’m tired.’
The girls followed her over and they lay their bikes onto the grass and sat either side of her.
‘Do we have to go back with Dad?’
It was Autumn who’d asked and Kate wanted to say no. She didn’t want them to go back, but she didn’t have custody of them and Martin was a bastard. If she tried to argue with him he’d never let them come back.