‘The temperature seems to have stabilized,’ Tom said slowly. ‘But now I’m getting some really odd electromagnetic variations …’
‘What does that mean?’ said Arthur.
‘I don’t know,’ said Tom. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’
And then we all turned sharply to look at the door, as people started talking out in the hall. Loud strident voices, overlapping each other in one great meaningless babble. Whoever it was, they sounded as though they were right outside. Like a party we hadn’t been invited to. We all stared at the closed door, but none of us moved to open it. I strained my ears, but I couldn’t make out a single word I understood. And then the whole thing just stopped, as suddenly as it had begun. For a long moment there was nothing but silence. I turned to Tom.
‘Were those real noises?’
‘What do you mean, were they real? We all heard them!’
‘But were you able to record them?’ I said pointedly.
He checked quickly. ‘No … I’ve got nothing! How is that even possible? We all heard them.’
I looked at the closed door.
‘I really wouldn’t,’ Lynn said quickly. ‘We have no idea what might be out there.’
‘Exactly,’ said Freddie. ‘And we need to know.’
I headed for the door. Freddie came with me, and Penny quickly moved in on my other side. I pulled the door open; the hall was completely empty. I’d made a point of leaving the lights on, in case something happened, and I could see all the way down the hallway to the front door. There was no sign of life anywhere, nothing to suggest who or what might have been talking.
‘Could someone else have got into the house?’ said Freddie.
‘I had Arthur lock the front door,’ I said. ‘Just to make sure we wouldn’t be disturbed.’
She looked at me sharply. ‘And you didn’t think to tell us?’
‘What difference would it have made?’ I said reasonably. ‘It’s not like we’re going anywhere until the morning comes.’
‘It’s the principle of the thing!’ said Freddie.
‘I don’t have any principles,’ I said.
‘I am not going anywhere near that,’ said Penny.
I closed the door carefully and moved back to join Tom. He was glaring at the readings on his screen, as though he could force them to change into something that made more sense.
‘If there’d been anything out there, my motion-trackers should have kicked in and sounded an alarm,’ he said tightly.
‘What kind of range are we talking about?’ said Penny.
‘All of the ground floor, plus some of the stairs,’ said Tom. ‘And my trackers are supposed to be sharp enough to detect a mouse sticking its head out of its hole.’
‘Could someone have got into the house before we did?’ I said.
‘My family has the only set of keys,’ said Arthur.
‘What about the estate agents?’ said Freddie.
‘They have to ask us for them,’ said Arthur. ‘On the increasingly rare occasions they agree to come out here with a prospective buyer.’
And then he stopped and quickly checked his back pocket to make sure his keys were still there. Reassured, he pressed on.
‘And anyway, remember the thick dust on all the floors? No one could have got in without leaving a hell of a lot of footprints. We are the first people to have entered this house in a very long time and, no, I haven’t forgotten about the damn caretakers. They must have been pocketing our money for years and doing damn all to earn it! You can bet I’ll be having some serious words with my family about that, once this is over.’
He finally wound down and we all stood looking at each other. It was very quiet. Freddie beamed suddenly and rubbed her hands together.
‘Well! At least something is finally happening!’
‘Yes,’ said Arthur. ‘But what?’
‘Voices,’ said Lynn. ‘Voices from the other side … Am I the only one who keeps seeing sudden movements out of the corner of my eye?’
We all looked quickly around us, but everything seemed normal, no matter how fast we turned our heads.
‘Probably just floaters in your eyes,’ said Tom. ‘I should have them checked if I were you.’
‘We’re all getting a bit jumpy,’ said Arthur, in what he probably thought of as his reasonable voice. ‘This is all just standard haunted-house bullshit: making a big thing out of unexpected noises, seeing things that aren’t really there. I’m sure we’ll find perfectly reasonable explanations for all of this.’
‘Like what?’ said Tom.
‘How about stray radio signals being picked up and broadcast by your equipment?’ said Arthur.
Tom started to say something and then didn’t. Arthur nodded knowingly.
‘You’re all just spooking yourselves.’
‘Sorry, dear,’ said Freddie. ‘But I’m not buying it. Harrow House is finally starting to live up to its reputation. We can’t just sit around here; we need to be doing something! I say we search this house from top to bottom, and, yes, Arthur, that does include upstairs!’
‘What if we poke our noses into everything and still nothing happens?’ said Penny.
‘Then we do whatever it takes to make something happen!’ said Freddie.
‘Going upstairs isn’t safe,’ Arthur said stubbornly. ‘If one of us should crash through the floorboards and break a leg, it might be a really long time before we could persuade an ambulance to come all the way out here.’
‘If we don’t go looking for whatever is inhabiting this place,’ Lynn said quietly, ‘it will come looking for us. And not in a good way.’
Freddie looked at me challengingly. ‘You’re the reason we’re here; what do you think we should do?’
‘We came here to determine whether or not this house is haunted,’ I said steadily. ‘And I don’t think it would go down very well if we were forced to admit tomorrow that we spent the whole night sitting in one room. I think we should at least explore a little.’
‘Now you’re talking!’ said Freddie. ‘Get out there and bang the drum, scare up some action!’
‘But before anyone goes anywhere,’ said Lynn, ‘I think we need to hold a seance.’
We all looked at her, and she stared calmly back.
‘Has it really come to that?’ said Arthur.
‘A seance is the best way to reach out to whatever is in here with us,’ Lynn said patiently. ‘Harrow House has been trying to talk to us. It has something to say.’
‘But is it something we want to hear?’ said Penny.
I looked at her.
‘I’m just joining in,’ she said.
‘We need to reassure the house that we’re here to help,’ Lynn said firmly. ‘Try to find out what it needs to be at rest.’
Tom shook his head and gestured firmly at his instruments. ‘This is how we’ll make contact – in a controlled and scientific manner.’
‘All you can do is watch and wait,’ said Freddie. ‘We need to be a damn sight more proactive!’
‘You want to poke Harrow House with a stick?’ I said. ‘Just to see what happens?’
‘We need to open a line of communication with the house, before we do anything else,’ said Lynn.
‘And say what?’ said Arthur. ‘“Please stop bothering people”?’
‘Lynn could have a point,’ Freddie said reluctantly. ‘Ghosts are only people. How would you like it if a bunch of strangers barged into your house and didn’t even try to talk to you?’
‘Do witches believe in seances?’ said Penny.
‘I don’t not believe in them,’ Freddie said carefully.
‘Well, would you believe it,’ said Arthur, patting his pockets ostentatiously. ‘I didn’t think to bring my Ouija board with me!’
‘We don’t need one,’ said Lynn, not rising to the bait. ‘All we have to do is sit in a circle and open ourselves to what’s here.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘And it beats tiptoeing over rotten floo
rboards, doesn’t it?’
We all managed some kind of nod. If only because Lynn was so determined, and none of us wanted to make a scene. Tom looked dubiously round the room.
‘If we’re really going to do this, it has to be properly recorded. I’ll need to adjust the cameras and the microphones, to make sure everything that happens is covered.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Lynn, like a mother indulging a child with a new toy. ‘It’ll take me a while to prepare myself anyway.’
She picked a spot in the middle of the room, pushed a few chairs back out of the way, and then sat down and assumed a full lotus with an ease I could only admire. Her wicker bag had never left her shoulder during any of this, and she hugged it to her protectively as she gathered her thoughts. Tom banged away at his keyboard, and I heard soft whirring sounds from the wall cameras as they adjusted their focus. Freddie did a quick tour of the room, checking her symbols and reinforcing them if they looked a bit scuffed. Arthur wandered along with her. I concentrated my hearing on the two of them.
‘Are you worried the seance might interfere with your protections?’ Arthur said politely.
‘Not really,’ said Freddie. ‘But it’s always a good idea to make sure your safeguards are working, if you’re going to open your mind in a dangerous place.’
‘That sounds … creepy.’
‘Oh, it can be,’ said Freddie. ‘Not everything in the spirit world is our friend. So, better safe and secure than really, really sorry.’
‘But what are you protecting us from?’ said Arthur.
‘Whatever drove your family out of this house.’
‘You said ghosts are just people …’
‘People can get angry if you give them good enough reason,’ said Freddie. ‘So, tread softly and carry a big magical stick.’
Arthur smirked. ‘Do you have it hidden about you?’
‘Would you like to search me?’
They shared a smile.
‘I’m glad I met you,’ said Arthur.
‘Right back at you, dear.’
Arthur looked at her steadily. ‘You honestly think we’re in danger here?’
Freddie draped a companionable arm across his shoulders. ‘Don’t worry; I won’t let anything happen to you. Or, at least, nothing you don’t want.’
Arthur grinned at her. ‘Here’s to you, Mrs Robinson.’
They laughed quietly together.
I turned to Penny and lowered my voice until only she could hear me. ‘Once the seance starts, watch everyone. If one of them is planning something, that’s when they’ll do it, while the rest of us are preoccupied.’
‘What do you think might happen?’ said Penny.
‘I think someone is going to try to sell us a bill of goods,’ I said. ‘Probably try to convince us they’ve made contact with something, so they can send us off chasing shadows, and they can get on with whatever they’re really here for.’
‘Do you think there really could be treasure hidden in this house?’ said Penny, bouncing eagerly on her toes.
‘Something is being hidden from us,’ I said. ‘And, Penny … keep a specially close eye on Lynn; I don’t trust her. It’s not like I trust any of them, but she strikes me as the one most likely to have a secret agenda.’
We both looked round as Lynn raised her voice, asking everyone to form a circle sitting on the floor. She spoke in a calm, practised voice, as though she did this sort of thing all the time and knew what she was doing. I think we were all a little impressed, but we still hesitated, standing around and looking at each other. Arthur turned to Freddie.
‘Have you ever taken part in a seance before?’
‘I’ve done a bit of everything, in my time,’ Freddie said comfortably. ‘My motto is: never put off till tomorrow what you can do today. Because if you do it today and you like it, you can do it again tomorrow.’
Penny looked at her. ‘Do you expect this seance to do any good?’
‘It’s worth a try,’ said Freddie. ‘And as long as we all act sensibly, it shouldn’t do any harm.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I pity the poor ghost that makes contact with us.’
‘Play nicely, Ishmael,’ said Penny. She smiled determinedly at everyone. ‘I’m afraid Ishmael doesn’t believe in ghosts. I mean, really doesn’t believe.’
Lynn bestowed her kindest and most indulgent smile on me. ‘If half of what they say about Harrow House is true, it will make a believer out of you.’
‘Not unless a ghost walks right up to me and spits in my eye,’ I said firmly. I switched my gaze to Freddie. ‘What do you think will happen if we do this?’
‘Beats me,’ she said cheerfully. ‘My art is all about nature. I can whistle up a wind, or gentle a storm … Charm an angry soul, touch a cold heart or ease a troubled mind. But death and its dominions are way outside my chosen skill set.’
‘If you’re all about life, why are you so keen on chasing ghosts?’ I said bluntly. ‘The very definition of being not at all alive?’
‘I’m here to solve the mystery of Harrow House,’ said Freddie. ‘I want to know what really happened here, all those years ago. I was a local historian long before I was a witch, and I’ve been researching this place for years. Because although everyone calls it a haunted house, it doesn’t act like one. Harrow House is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, nailed to a complete pain in the arse.’
‘Then tell us, historian,’ I said. ‘What did happen here? Originally?’
Freddie turned courteously to Arthur. ‘This is your family’s house. You should be the one to tell the story.’
‘But you’re the local expert,’ he said quickly. ‘You’re bound to know lots more than I do.’
Freddie beamed at all of us, happy for a chance to show off her expertise. We all listened carefully as she launched into her lecture – except for Lynn, who was still busy sitting on the floor, looking thoughtful.
‘The one thing all the stories agree on,’ Freddie said cheerfully, ‘is that something bad happened in this house, long before the family ran screaming into the night in 1889. But no one knows what. It wasn’t a murder, or a mysterious disappearance – nothing to attract attention to the family. Most historians believe it must have been connected with Malcolm Welles’s business. He was not a well-liked man, and there are all kind of rumours about what he did to raise the money he needed to get his business started. There are even darker suggestions about exactly what it was that he transported. But whatever he did to bring about his sudden expulsion from this house, it was so bad it tainted the wood and stone of Harrow House forever. Which probably explains why we all felt the way we did when we walked through the front door.’
I looked politely at Arthur. ‘Does that sound right to you?’
He shrugged. ‘It fits with what I’ve heard. But as I keep saying, it’s mostly just rumour and guesswork. No one knows anything for sure.’
‘Don’t you have any idea what it was your ancestor Malcolm did to make his fortune?’ said Penny.
‘Nobody knows,’ Arthur said firmly. ‘Before he left this country, Malcolm sold off all his business interests and burned his private papers. Which, of course, isn’t at all suspicious. Ever since, my family has been damned by association. But nothing bad has happened in this house for over a century! That’s a fact! And no one has ever been hurt here – just spooked!
‘I keep telling my family, the best thing we could do is just give up and embrace the weird stuff. Use this nonsense as a selling point. Open up the house to tourists who are into that kind of thing, and treat it as one big ghost train. Prove to everyone it’s not real … And then we might finally be able to make some money out of the place. But no one ever listens to me.’
I nodded to Freddie. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
‘You see!’ said Arthur.
She made a shushing gesture, blew him a kiss and then moved a little away so the two of us could talk privately.
‘Something bothering yo
u, Ishmael? Love the name …’
‘It’s just that out of everyone here, you seem the least intimidated by this house. You didn’t even seem that bothered by the unpleasant atmosphere earlier.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve felt all kinds of things during my explorations into the darker corners of the world. It’s usually just your own subconscious responding to cues you haven’t realized you noticed, and making you pay attention. Besides, I took precautions before I set out this evening. I am protected by the clear white light.’
‘Did you bring enough for all of us?’ I said politely.
Freddie laughed. ‘It’s a spiritual thing. A defence we can all call on in times of trouble.’
‘Last chance to come clean,’ I said. ‘Do you really believe in ghosts?’
‘Of course!’ said Freddie, genuinely surprised I could still ask such a question. ‘You can, and should, argue about exactly what it is people see when they see a ghost, but you can’t say that people don’t see ghosts, because they do. And always have done. The venerable historian Pliny wrote about a haunted villa in ancient Rome. Encounters with ghosts have been recorded in all countries and cultures. Of course, the nature of the ghost does tend to change, according to the place and the period. They used to be all about revealing hidden crimes or treasures; then they were restless souls, agonizing over unavenged murders or unfinished business. And in Victorian times they were all about making contact with the other side …’
‘What kind of ghost do you believe in?’ I said.
She grinned and elbowed me in the ribs. ‘All of them. It saves time.’
‘We can start whenever you’re ready,’ Tom said loudly. ‘My cameras are locked in position, and all the microphones are live.’
I nodded my thanks to Freddie and moved over to Tom.
‘You’re a ghost-hunter,’ I said. ‘What do you think ghosts are?’
‘Could be a stone tape,’ he said immediately. ‘An emotional event so powerful it imprints itself on its surroundings, producing a recording that can play itself back under the right conditions. Other hauntings could be the result of a timeslip, a window through which we can observe the past. And sometimes ghosts are just an hallucination. Put someone under enough emotional pressure and distress, and they’ll see anything. In my opinion, any of these scenarios are easier to believe than that the dead come back from the grave just to wander around putting the wind up people.’
The House on Widows Hill Page 8