The House on Widows Hill

by Simon R. Green

  ‘Don’t blame the press for the kind of stories people want to read,’ he said. ‘There never was a local newspaper that wouldn’t print something interesting but doubtful, rather than a dull fact. Reader beware …’ He stopped abruptly and peered around him. ‘But we never had to make up anything about this place. There’s never been any shortage of stories when it comes to Harrow House. Some of them so disturbing no one would want to read them.’

  ‘Like what?’ Freddie said immediately, but Arthur just shook his head.

  ‘I thought you were convinced this house’s reputation was down to nothing more than old-time gossip and local scare stories?’ I said.

  ‘I am, and it is,’ Arthur said firmly, getting a grip on himself. ‘If there’s one thing every reporter knows, it’s that people love to make up stories.’

  ‘There are far too many accounts of strange and unnatural events in this house to be dismissed so lightly,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Exactly!’ said Freddie. She fixed Arthur with a thoughtful look. ‘I’ve been sending requests to your family for years, to be allowed a good rummage around this house, and they’ve always turned me down. Sometimes quite rudely. So I was knocked off my pins when the family lawyers contacted me yesterday and asked if I wanted to be part of this group. Do you know what changed your family’s mind?’

  ‘Money, probably,’ said Arthur. ‘My family would agree to anything to get this unwanted inheritance off their hands and out of their lives.’

  ‘I was only contacted yesterday, too,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Same here,’ said Tom. ‘Why the sudden rush to get to the bottom of Harrow House, after all this time?’

  Arthur just shrugged, so they all turned to look at Penny and me.

  ‘No good asking us,’ I said calmly. ‘We’re just hired hands.’

  ‘The more I hear, the more convinced I am that something is going on,’ said Arthur, looking accusingly around him.

  ‘Something is always going on,’ I said. ‘We need to concentrate on what’s really going on in this house.’

  ‘Either you all shift your arses or I’m leaving you behind!’ said Freddie. ‘No more warnings!’

  ‘Have you ever encountered an actual ghost?’ Penny said quickly.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Freddie. Once again, her manner was so matter-of-fact that no one felt like challenging her.

  ‘Weren’t you frightened?’ said Penny.

  ‘Not at all, dear!’ said Freddie. ‘Ghosts are just people. Be nice to them, and they’ll be nice to you.’

  ‘That isn’t always the case,’ Tom said sternly. ‘Some spirits can be manifestations of rage or emotional trauma – like poltergeists. We all have demons inside us.’

  ‘Some more than others,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Do you honestly believe this house is haunted?’ I asked Freddie.

  ‘No doubt in my mind,’ she said briskly. ‘The question is: what by? Hauntings can take many forms. Revenants are the most common, of course – the dead walking in a place where they were once happy, or because of unfinished business. Then there’s visions of the past, where bits of history burst through into the present. And there’s always the genius loci – the spirit of the place – when so many bad things happen in one setting that it takes on a personality of its own. That’s when people can get hurt, because places don’t have human limitations.’

  ‘And yet you keep saying you want to go off on your own,’ said Penny.

  ‘Oh, I’m already protected, dear. I’m so loaded down with charms and amulets and blessings that it’s a wonder I don’t rattle when I walk.’ Freddie stared thoughtfully down the hall. ‘Still, I have to admit that Harrow House does not feel like a good place to be walking around with your soul hanging out. There are those who say this house is hungry …’

  ‘Your positive attitude is slipping,’ said Tom.

  ‘Blow it out your science,’ said Freddie.

  ‘Ghosts are just people,’ said Lynn. She used her most professional voice, to make it clear she was offering an expert opinion. ‘Some are good, some are bad, and, of course, some are always going to be seriously disturbed, just from what they’ve been through. Ghosts can be dangerous, because people can be dangerous.’

  ‘Treat someone as an enemy, and that’s how they’ll act,’ Freddie said briskly. ‘You should always keep an open mind, dear.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Lynn. ‘You never know what might walk in.’

  We all looked at her, not sure how to respond.

  ‘I’ve always thought of hauntings as being a lot like the weather,’ Tom said finally. ‘They do what they do, and don’t give a damn about how it affects us. Sometimes the wisest choice of action is simply to get out of the way and shelter somewhere safe until it’s all over.’

  ‘This is just an old house,’ said Arthur, speaking slowly and distinctly, as though to a group of particularly obtuse children. ‘There are always stories about old houses. They don’t mean anything.’

  ‘A base of operations is starting to sound really good to me,’ I said. ‘Somewhere easy to defend, where we can keep an eye on everything.’ I looked at Arthur. ‘Is there any room you’d recommend?’

  He shrugged sullenly. ‘I don’t know! How would I know? I’ve never been here before. And no one in my family ever wants to talk about Harrow House.’

  ‘Then let’s start opening some doors,’ I said. ‘And see where they lead.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Penny. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’

  THREE

  Somebody Dies

  I looked down the hallway, and the hallway looked right back at me, determined to give nothing away. There were only three doors: one on the left, one to the right and one at the far end. None of them looked particularly dangerous – or inviting. So just to be contrary, I turned away and looked at the wooden stairs leading up to the next floor.

  ‘Maybe we should try up there first?’

  ‘Not a good idea,’ Arthur said quickly.

  ‘We need to search this floor thoroughly, before we go exploring upstairs,’ said Tom. ‘And besides, if anything should go wrong, it’d be a lot easier to get to the front door from here than all the way up there.’

  ‘Bad experience in the past?’ Penny said sweetly.

  Tom shrugged. ‘Just saying …’

  ‘Nowhere is safe in Harrow House,’ Lynn said flatly. Her Goth makeup exaggerated her frown, making it seem almost sinister. ‘But I can’t say I’m sensing any immediate danger.’

  ‘You would if you went upstairs,’ said Arthur. ‘The upper floor is definitely not safe, because most of the floorboards are rotten.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ said Penny. ‘You told us you’d never been here before.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ he said crushingly. ‘But it did occur to me to visit the estate agents before I came here, so at least I’d have some idea of what I was getting into. They warned me about all kinds of things, most of which I took with a whole handful of salt, but the one thing they were certain about was the state of the upper floor. “Treacherous” was the word they kept coming back to. Apparently, all it would take is one foot in the wrong place, and you could end up back on the ground floor without having to use the stairs.’

  ‘Isn’t he marvellous?’ said Freddie. ‘Half the time you can’t get a word out of him, but get him started and he’s a proper little speech machine.’

  She punched Arthur encouragingly on the shoulder, hard enough to make him wince, and then marched off down the hallway. Lynn and Tom hurried after her, determined not to be left out of anything. Arthur started after them, but I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged the hand off and glared at me coldly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Lock the front door,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To make sure we won’t be disturbed. The last thing we need is uninvited visitors complicating things.’

  He nodded reluctantly, located his keys agai
n and locked the door. Penny and I strolled off down the hall after the others, leaving Arthur to catch up when he was done.

  ‘Do you think the top floor is dangerous?’ Tom was saying to Freddie.

  ‘Seems likely,’ said Freddie. ‘Why would Arthur lie?’

  ‘You tell me,’ said Tom. ‘He’s your special friend.’

  ‘And young enough to be your son,’ said Lynn, peering disapprovingly at Freddie. ‘You’re old enough to know better.’

  Freddie snorted happily, entirely unmoved. ‘I’m old enough to know a lot of things that I will be only too happy to teach him.’

  ‘At least now we know something for certain about Harrow House,’ Tom said quickly. ‘I’m a great believer in accumulating facts. You never know when they might come in handy. Especially when you’re in enemy territory.’

  ‘You think we might be in danger here?’ I said, as Penny and I joined the group.

  ‘Haunted houses are like minefields,’ said Tom. ‘You can never tell what might set them off.’

  ‘Facts won’t help you here,’ said Lynn. ‘This is a place of spirits and mysteries, of dangers to the soul as well as the body.’

  ‘Am I the only one who winces every time she opens her mouth?’ said Arthur, finally catching up with the rest of us.

  That was enough to start yet another doctrinal argument, so I strode off down the hall, leaving Team Ghost to work out its own pecking order. Penny stuck close beside me as I headed for the left-hand door. It was properly closed and seemed almost defiantly ordinary. I leaned in close and listened carefully. I couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door, so I pushed it open. There wasn’t a single protest from its hinges.

  ‘That’s not right, Ishmael,’ Penny said quietly. ‘Nothing in this house should be in such good condition, not after it’s been left empty for so many years. In fact, apart from all this dust, I’d have to say that everything looks to be in perfect shape.’

  ‘Except for the upstairs floors.’

  ‘We only have Arthur’s word for that.’

  ‘Feel free to go up and check,’ I said. ‘I’ll be right here, waiting to catch you.’

  ‘Funny man,’ said Penny.

  ‘I suppose it’s always possible that people have been coming and going in Harrow House for some time, on the quiet,’ I said. ‘For reasons of their own.’

  ‘What kind of reasons?’ said Penny. ‘Oh! You think there might be hidden treasure here, after all?’

  I had to smile at her sudden enthusiasm. ‘Possibly. But let’s deal with one problem at a time.’

  I braced myself and pushed the door all the way back, but it was just a large empty room. Light spilled in from the hallway, enough to allow me to make out some heavy furniture lurking under dust sheets, but no signs of life or death anywhere. The only point of interest was that the room didn’t have a window. Penny squeezed in beside me, gripping my arm tightly as she strained her eyes against the gloom.

  ‘I can’t see a damned thing.’

  ‘There’s nothing to be seen,’ I said. ‘And you might as well get used to that. I don’t think there’s anything in this house but myths and memories.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because if there was anything happening in this house, I would have picked up something long before this. Now, do you think I might have my arm back, please, before you cut off the circulation?’

  ‘If there does turn out to be something nasty lurking in the shadows, I will never let you forget it,’ said Penny, relaxing her grip but not letting go.

  ‘Fair enough.’

  The others had stopped arguing long enough to realize what Penny and I were doing, and they hurried over to crowd in behind us, rather than be left out of anything. I reached in past the door, found the light switch and turned it on. Flat yellow light revealed the shrouded furniture, like squatting ghosts, and yet more undisturbed dust on the floorboards. I pointed this out to Penny, and she nodded quickly.

  ‘So much for your theory of people secretly coming and going,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Unless that’s what we’re supposed to think,’ I said. ‘Maybe they always leave fresh dust behind, to cover their tracks.’

  Penny looked at me. ‘Does that sound even a little bit likely?’

  I shrugged. ‘It did sound better in my head. In my defence, we have encountered stranger things in our time.’

  ‘This is true,’ said Penny.

  ‘What are you two muttering about?’ said Arthur, pressing right up against my back so he could peer over my shoulder.

  ‘Just agreeing that there’s nowhere here anyone could be hiding,’ I said. ‘Though it does look like your caretakers have been sleeping on the job.’

  I turned off the light and pulled the door shut, making sure it closed properly. I didn’t want it suddenly swinging open again and freaking everyone out. I turned around and stared hard at Team Ghost until they got the message and fell back, and then I marched across the hall to the right-hand door. Penny followed close behind, but the others took their time, dragging their feet in the rear. Presumably on the grounds that if something bad was about to happen, they’d much rather it happened to someone else first.

  I listened hard at the door, and once again I couldn’t hear anything. I opened the door and turned on the light, revealing more sheeted furniture in another empty room. A grandfather clock stood off to one side, its hands frozen at three o’clock. I wondered if that was when the original family had been forced out of their home, never to return.

  ‘More dust on the floor … but I’m not seeing any cobwebs, Ishmael,’ Penny said thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen a single cobweb anywhere. Have you?’

  ‘No.’ I said. ‘That is a bit odd. Perhaps Harrow House’s reputation is so bad that no self-respecting spider would want to come here.’

  The others arrived and crowded in behind us, breathing down our necks and craning their heads for a better view.

  ‘Could be a parlour, I suppose,’ said Arthur. ‘Or a drawing room, or even a library …’

  ‘That’s not a library, dear,’ said Freddie.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ said Arthur.

  ‘No bookshelves and no books.’

  ‘And no window,’ said Penny. ‘Just like the other room.’

  ‘Doesn’t exactly look cheerful, whatever it is,’ said Tom. ‘This is starting to feel less like touring a stately home and more like excavating a tomb.’

  ‘No,’ said Freddie. ‘I’ve done that. And it was a lot more fun than this.’

  ‘Did you find a mummy?’ said Lynn.

  ‘No,’ said Freddie. ‘She was out.’

  She snorted loudly at her own joke. No one else felt like joining in.

  ‘Are any of you still feeling the oppressive atmosphere?’ Penny said suddenly. ‘Only … I’m not.’

  Team Ghost took a moment to think about that, and going by the sudden surprise on their faces, none of them had noticed when the bad mood dropped away. I had; it lost its hold on me the moment I started down the hall to check out the doors.

  ‘Told you it was all in our minds,’ said Arthur.

  A thought struck me, and I turned to look at him. ‘Given that this house was abandoned back in Victorian times, and no one has lived here since, when was the electricity put in?’

  Arthur shrugged, which I was beginning to think was his default response to any question.

  ‘Probably just another doomed attempt to make the house seem more attractive to potential buyers. Back when my family still had some hope of shifting the burden to someone else. God knows they’ve tried enough enticements down the years, including prices so low they bordered on bribery, and sending emotionally blackmailing letters to all kinds of historical societies. Maybe they should try “Buy one, get one free!” or “Do you like feeling severely depressed, and enjoy throwing your money away? Then have we got a house for you!”’

  ‘Hasn’t anyone lived here
, since your ancestors left?’ said Penny.

  ‘Not since they ran screaming out into the night, on the fourteenth of September 1889,’ said Arthur. ‘We can be sure of the exact date, because they made so much noise that all the neighbours came running out to see what was happening. It was covered by all the local papers. I’ve read the original stories, in the Herald’s archives. My ancestors said things had got so bad here that they were literally driven out, but not by any actual apparition or strange noises, or any of the usual horror shows … It was more like the house just didn’t want them around any more. But don’t ask me what actually happened, back on that fateful night, because I don’t have a clue.’

  ‘Because your family doesn’t like to talk about it,’ said Penny.

  ‘Got it in one,’ said Arthur. ‘Not then, and not now. There was a hell of a lot of speculation in the press at the time, and even more local gossip – most of it pretty unsavoury – but all anyone knows for certain is that the head of the family, a very successful businessman called Malcolm Welles, took his wife and children and left the country, never to return.’

  ‘Someone must have tried to live here after that,’ I said.

  Arthur scowled angrily. ‘I wish you’d stop treating me like I’m some kind of expert! All I know for sure is that while all kinds of people have tried to live here, down the years, not one them even lasted till morning.’

  ‘And yet none of them ever reported seeing a ghost?’ I said.

  Arthur shrugged. ‘So they say.’

  ‘And you still don’t believe there’s anything unusual going on here?’ said Penny.

  Arthur glared around him defiantly. ‘Give a house a bad enough name, and people will do the rest for themselves.’

  ‘If Harrow House has such a bad reputation,’ I said, ‘and no one wants it at any price, why do the estate agents still have it on the market?’

  ‘Because my family insists,’ said Arthur. ‘I think they’re hoping that someday they’ll find a buyer who’s deaf and blind to the atmosphere, and immune to hauntings. Though that hasn’t worked out too well so far.’

  ‘Why has no one ever tried to break in and squat?’ said Freddie. ‘Homeless people must have more pressing things to worry about than ghosties and ghoulies. And why hasn’t the house been vandalized, or even burned down, if the locals hate it so much?’