The Haunting of Caldgrave House

by Amy Cross

  “You were barking at something last night,” Maisie says, lowering her voice once Linda's in the shed. “Hugo, did you see something in my room?”

  I start licking the side of her neck, but she takes hold of me and moves me back so she can look at my face.

  “Hugo, I'm serious,” she continues. “After you were put outside, I felt weird in my room. I didn't say anything to Mummy or Daddy, because I know they wouldn't believe me, but I felt like...”

  She glances at the shed, to make sure Linda's still busy, and then she turns to me again.

  “I felt like someone else was in there,” she adds finally. “Like... I felt as if someone was in there and watching me, like there were eyes I couldn't see. Does that sound crazy?”

  I wag my tail and try to lick her face again, but she's holding me a little too far back.

  “And when you were barking,” she says, “it was like you were barking at something. Like there was someone in the room. Did you see something, Hugo? Did you pick up on someone?”

  She stares at me for a moment, before sighing.

  “This is silly,” she adds, setting me back on the ground, where I immediately start licking her hand. “I wish you could talk, Hugo. I wish you could tell me everything you see. I bet you know things that no-one else knows. I bet you even know things that Mum and Dad don't. Isn't that right?” She strokes the top of my head. “I bet you're way smarter than anyone realizes. I bet you know everything.”

  “Isn't it time for you to get back to work?” Linda says, coming out of the shed.

  “I've got a headache.”

  “Join the club,” Linda mutters, heading over to the wall and using a fresh pair of shears to try cutting the moss away. “These are even worse,” she sighs, before stopping for a moment. “I actually feel a little nauseous.”

  “Does that mean sick?” Maisie asks. “I feel sick.”

  “My head's throbbing,” Linda says, turning away from the wall for a moment. “Maybe it's that horrible book. It's probably diseased or something. I'm sorry, Maisie, but I think we're going to have to toss it out. I should never have let you play with it in the first place.”

  “But Mummy -”

  “I need to go and rest for a few minutes,” she adds, setting the shears aside and heading up to the house's front door. “Maisie, you can play out here with Hugo but don't let him into the house, okay? Your father'll have kittens if he thinks you're disobeying him.”

  “Can I paint the railing?” Maisie asks.

  Linda turns to her.

  “Is this the paint to use?” Maisie continues, reaching over and picking up a tin of paint that Michael left out here earlier.

  “You've never painted anything in your life,” Linda tells her.

  “Can't I try?” She takes one of the brushes. “Is that what I use?”

  Linda opens her mouth to say something, but then she hesitates for a moment.

  “You know what?” she says with a shrug. “Go for it. That's a way more useful job than any of the chores your father left for you. See how you get on, honey.”

  With that, she heads inside.

  “Daddy's mean sometimes,” Maisie says, turning to me and patting me on the back again, before opening the tin of paint. “I know I shouldn't think this, but sometimes I like it a lot better when he's out.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What do you mean, not coming home tonight?” Linda yells in the kitchen, as Maisie and I sit on the porch steps. “Where the hell are you, Mike?”

  “I hate it when they fight,” Maisie says quietly, her tone very obviously subdued. She runs the paintbrush across another part of the railing, applying thick globs of white paint. “I thought they weren't going to do that anymore.”

  “You told me you were going into town to get some supplies!” Linda continues, and now I can hear her pacing around in the kitchen. “That should take a couple of hours at most. Where the hell are you, that you suddenly need to stay overnight?”

  Maisie sniffs back tears and continues to paint the railing. Feeling sorry for her, I lean closer and lick her wrist, but she doesn't respond.

  “So you drove all that way just to find certain parts,” Linda shouts, “and now you've got car trouble, so you think it'd be better to spend money – money we don't have, by the way – on a hotel?” She pauses. “Oh, that's convenient. And who is this friend who lives nearby? She wouldn't happen to be female, would she?”

  “I don't think Daddy's coming home tonight,” Maisie says, reaching out and stroking my shoulders. “Is it bad that I don't mind?”

  “You're goddamn right that I don't trust you!” Linda continues. “Listen, forget it. You know what? Stay out for as long as you want. I mean, it's not like I mind that you've stranded us here with no car for the night. I know we've got food, but that's not the point! The point is that you've gone and left your wife and daughter all alone in a ramshackle old house and you don't even seem to care!”

  Maisie pulls me closer and gives me a hug.

  “No, I'm not giving her sleeping pills!” Linda shouts. “Why would I -”

  She stops suddenly.

  Maisie sniffs again.

  “You did what?” Linda snaps. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I hope he stays away for a while,” Maisie whispers.

  “I can't even talk to you right now,” Linda continues. “Go to hell, Mike. Just... Rot in hell!”

  Suddenly there's a loud banging sound, as if she threw something. Then the house falls silent for a few seconds, before Linda's footsteps hurry out of the kitchen and come to the front door. Looking up at her, I immediately see the anger in her expressions as she steps into view.

  “Your father's not going to make it home tonight,” she explains. “Also, I found out why we've both been feeling sick today, Maisie. It seems your father slipped sedatives into our drinks last night, after he threw Hugo out. Apparently he wanted to help us sleep better, and he thought the best approach would be to dope us both to the eyeballs without even letting us know. Great, huh?”

  “I still feel a bit funny,” Maisie whimpers, before starting to paint again. “I'm doing a good job, aren't I?”

  “Well, you know, sod it,” Linda continues. “Sorry, honey, you'll feel better soon, I promise. But sod it, we're not going to let your father's selfishness ruin our evening. You and I will just have a cozy night in, and I'm sure it'll be much more fun than if your father was here. We can eat something nice and watch a couple of movies. Does that sound good?”

  Maisie hesitates for a moment, before nodding.

  Linda turns to go back inside, but then she changes her mind and comes down the steps. Crouching next to me, she releases me from the rope and I immediately lick her hand to let her know that I'm grateful.

  “And if your father's not here,” Linda continues, getting to her feet, “then your father's rules can go out the window, can't they? Hugo, you're more than welcome to come back into the house. In fact, Maisie and I would both very much feel better knowing that you're inside with us.” She turns and heads back up to the door. “And don't worry about doing any more chores today, Maisie,” she calls back to us. “I'm officially letting you off them all!”

  Maisie turns to me.

  “I hope she doesn't drink wine tonight,” she says softly. “I don't like it when she does that.”

  I lick her arm, and she half-smiles. I lick her again, and she lets out a brief giggle.

  “That tickles,” she tells me. “Hugo, you're so funny sometimes!”

  She dips the brush into the can again, before applying another layer of paint to the railing. She seems happy to have a job, and I like sitting here in the afternoon sun and spending time with her. We never did anything like this in the city, so I suppose there are some good sides to being out here in the countryside. In fact, if it could just be like this every day, I wouldn't mind being here very much at all.

  “Asshole!” Linda yells suddenly inside the house, accompanied by the
sound of breaking glass.

  Maisie and I both look at the open doorway.

  “Don't worry!” Linda calls out. “Mummy just dropped something! It's fine! Keep painting!”

  Maisie glances at me, and I can see a hint of concern in her eyes. She pauses for a moment, before starting to pain again. And even though she's not crying right now, I can tell that she's unhappy, so I nudge her arm.

  “Stop that,” she says. “I'm trying to work, Hugo.”

  I nudge her again.

  “Hugo!”

  And again.

  “Do you want to play?” she asks, setting the paintbrush down and turning to me. “Is that it? You want to play?”

  Recognizing that word, I hurry around in circles for a moment before lowering my chest to the ground and wagging my tail. There's another word that I know, a word that I want her to say, and I think she might actually say it for the first time in days.

  “Okay, Hugo,” she says with a smile. “Where's your ball?”

  She said it! She said ball! And Hugo!

  Chapter Seventeen

  “No, I asked but he just acted like I was being the paranoid one,” Linda says, holding one of those little black devices against the side of her face as she sits at the kitchen table. “Just like always.”

  As light rain falls from the dark sky and patters against the window, Linda takes the wine bottle and pours herself another glass.

  “Eat your dinner,” she says to Maisie, before taking a sip of red wine. “It's not different, Carrie. It's exactly the same, except now he doesn't even seem to care. It's like he doesn't think he has to hide what he's doing. His whole story today was completely ridiculous and he knows I'm not an idiot.”

  She takes a drag on her cigarette.

  “What was that?” she continues. “Carrie, the reception out here is terrible. I can barely hear you at all.”

  Getting to her feet, she heads out of the room.

  “I'm going to his stupid study. Reception's sometimes better in there.”

  As she walks out into the hallway, I look up at Maisie again. The smell of food is intoxicating, wafting down from the table, but strangely I'm more concerned about Maisie right now. She's staring at her plate, but she looks really unhappy and I think she needs cheering up. I wait for a moment, before pawing at her foot. Usually I do that when I want food, but right now I'm doing it because I want to remind her that I'm here for her. Well, and some of that stew wouldn't go unappreciated.

  “Hey,” she says blankly, briefly glancing down at me.

  I wait, but she seems totally unenthusiastic.

  So I paw her foot again.

  “What do you want?” she asks. “Food?”

  She reaches onto the plate, and then she holds a chunk of stewed meat down for me. I take the meat in my mouth but – finding it too hot – I drop it on the floor and leave it to cool, and then I paw her foot for a third time.

  “I don't know what you want,” she says, with a faint whine in her voice. “Mummy and Daddy are arguing again, and Mummy's smoking again and drinking wine. I thought that wouldn't happen anymore after we moved here.”

  I wait, but she falls silent again. This time, realizing that simply pawing her foot won't work, I lean over and start licking her ankle. Her skin is nice and salty.

  “Hey, that tickles,” she says, sounding a little more animated. “Hugo, cut it out.”

  I keep licking, but then suddenly I feel hands around my flank and I'm startled as Maisie lifts me up and sets me on her knee. Now the smell of food is completely intoxicating and it takes all my self-control to keep from jumping onto the table and eating from the plates. I know I'm not allowed to do that, but for a moment the food just seems so enticing. Finally I force myself to look directly at Maisie instead, since I know that sometimes not looking at something makes it easier to be good.

  “Are you happy here?” she asks. “Do things seem -”

  Before she can finish, there's a sudden tap on the window.

  We both turn and look across the room. I can hear a faint breeze blowing outside, but I'm certain that I hear something tap briefly – twice – on the window pane. The hairs on the back of my neck are starting to stand up, but I force myself to hold back from barking. For now, at least.

  “Did you hear that?” Maisie asks, keeping her voice low.

  I wait, listening to the sound of the wind.

  “It must just have been the weather,” Maisie says.

  Watching the window, I can barely see anything outside. The light in the kitchen means that most of the window is taken up by bright reflections, although I know that outside the yard is completely dark. I think I can just about make out the sound of the trees rustling in the distance, although the tapping sound was definitely closer and -

  Suddenly I hear the sound again, a brief tap-tap against the glass.

  I immediately put my front paws on the table and stand up, and I start snarling.

  “What is it, Hugo?” Maisie asks, with fear in her voice.

  Linda is still talking in one of the other rooms, apparently oblivious to the noise.

  “You heard it too, right?” Maisie continues, keeping her voice low as we both stare at the window. “It was like -”

  Before she can finish, there's another tap-tap sound.

  I immediately let out a loud, warning bark.

  “It was probably nothing,” Maisie stammers, but I can tell that she's scared. Her heart is pounding and she's holding my sides. “Hugo, it's just the wind.”

  I watch the glass, but all I can really see is a reflection of the kitchen cabinets. I can hear the wind out there, but the tap-tap sound is definitely something different.

  And then, suddenly, all the lights go off again. In an instant, the kitchen becomes pitch-black and I can suddenly see out the window. I see patches of moss over-handing the edges, and I can just about see the tops of the trees in the distance.

  I curl my lips slightly, waiting for even the slightest hint that the tap-tapping noise might come back. After a moment I tilt my head a little, to get a better fix on the different sounds.

  “That bloody fuse-box!” Linda snaps, stomping into the hallway and then opening the door to the basement. “That bloody man can't do one thing right!”

  “Mummy, we heard a noise,” Maisie says quietly, but too quietly for Linda to hear.

  Instead, Linda heads down into the basement while Maisie and I sit once more in silence.

  The wind whips up outside, blowing a gale, and I'm starting to feel a little more confident that the sound earlier was just something getting blown against the glass. Still, I'm not ready to calm down just yet, so I keep watching even as Maisie starts slowly stroking my side. I think maybe she's starting to relax.

  “It was just the wind,” she continues, as Linda bumps around beneath the kitchen floor.

  A moment later there's a loud bang beneath our feet.

  “Damn it!” Linda yells, loud enough for us to hear up here. “Piece of -”

  She falls silent.

  Outside, the wind picks up for a moment before quieting again.

  “I hope Mummy gets the lights on again soon,” Maisie says. “I don't like sitting here in the dark. And it's so cold suddenly.”

  She pauses for a moment.

  “You don't think anyone tapped at the window, Hugo,” she continues. “Do you?”

  Keeping my eyes fixed on the window, I wait for even the slightest sound.

  And then, suddenly, Maisie picks me up as she gets to her feet, and she carries me around the table. As we get closer to the window, I feel her stroking the top of my head.

  “There's nothing there,” she whispers, and now she sounds scared. “There's nothing there, there's nothing there.”

  Reaching the counter, she stops with me still in her arms. I don't always like being carried, because I can't react quickly if something happens, but right now all my attention is focused on the window. With the lights still off in the kitchen,
I can see the distant trees outside, and I can still hear the sound of a gentle late-night breeze. Staring up at the window, I wait for even the slightest hint that something or somebody is out there, and I can't help worrying that a hand is going to suddenly come into view and tap at the glass. If that happens, I'll bark like crazy and scare the intruder away.

  So far, however, the tapping sound hasn't returned.

  “There's nothing there,” Maisie whispers again. “There isn't, Hugo, is there? You're not even growling. If there was anything out there, you'd be growling.”

  She strokes my head again.

  I watch the window.

  No hand comes into view, and nothing taps against the glass.

  Finally, I feel the hackles start to fall on the back of my neck. The gap between the tapping sounds wasn't too long earlier, but now several minutes have passed. Maisie still seems a little worried, although I can tell that her heart-rate has begun to drop back down to normal. A moment later I hear some more bumps in the basement, and the sound of Linda talking to herself, and then the light comes back on.

  Immediately, I see the broken-jawed woman reflected in the glass. She's standing right behind us.

  Maisie swings around, still holding me, and then lets out a terrified gasp. She darts to the left, to get around the woman, before stopping and bumping back against the counter.

  “Mummy!” she screams. “There's someone here!”

  The broken-jawed woman tilts her head slightly, staring straight at Maisie, and then takes a step toward us.

  Maisie ducks down and opens one of the lower cupboards, before scrambling inside with me still in her arms. She grabs the door and pulls it shut, trapping us in darkness, as I tumble from her arms and bang against various pots and pans.

  “Mummy!” she screams again, banging her fists against the bottom of the cupboard and causing the pots to rattle all around us. “Help! Mummy!”

  Turning around, I spot the cupboard door starting to open. Maisie immediately grabs the inside clasp and pulls it shut, and I start barking.

  “Mummy, help!” she shouts, and now she's kicking the wall to make more noise. “Mummy, there's someone here! Mummy, help!”