by Nell Dixon
“There, that’s the spirit. You know you love shopping.”
“I can’t argue with that.” The idea of shopping for Myrtle Cottage still didn’t give me the buzz that I normally got when I was prettifying a house for sale.
Louise brushed biscuit crumbs from the front of her top and got to her feet.
“Come on, time for bed. Hopefully you feel better about being in here now?” She scanned my face with an anxious look.
“Thanks, I do feel a little less jumpy.” She was right, it had helped to come back into the room and have nothing weird happen. Maybe I was stressed about the break up and, like Steve kept suggesting, had projected my stress onto the house.
Even as I spoke a shiver ran down my spine and the hairs on the nape of my neck rose. I was wrong, the room did still creep me out.
I didn’t sleep very well, all night long I kept dreaming about the lounge. In my dream, or should I say nightmare, I kept seeing the room as it might once have been.
A fire burned low in the hearth, a dark wooden bench stood at the side, a table filled the centre and there was a young woman there. She looked like the woman I’d glimpsed at the window. Dressed in a long drab gown with what appeared to be a Puritan collar she kept staring at me as if she wanted me to do something.
* * *
I slept poorly that night. Partly because of my worries for Joshua and partly because of my fear of prowlers and the recent theft of some of our poultry. Richard has taken to patrolling the perimeters of the gardens at night. It was rumoured that the army had marched on to try and intercept the King’s forces some small distance away. I prayed to God that Joshua might stay safe and come back to me.
Father has sent word that he was safe but delayed on his business. Mother and I are relieved but although I long for his return I dread to see the disappointment on his face when he learns I am with child.
All night long I kept seeing the face of the spirit maid. I wished I knew what she wanted. Mayhap she is my punishment for falling into sin.
* * *
The sound of hammering on my bedroom door woke me with a start. I must have dropped back off to sleep after the alarm had gone off. I staggered out of bed and flung open the door.
“I’m coming! Keep the noise down,” I hissed at Steve, still disorientated from the disturbing images that I’d seen in my sleep.
“Jamie will be here in ten minutes to give us a hand getting the bath in. What was all that stuff in the text I got from Lou about him being the other candidate to be the baby’s dad?” Steve folded his arms across his chest and stood, feet slightly apart, barring my way out of the bedroom.
I glanced towards Lou’s bedroom door. It was still closed and there was no sound. I beckoned him into my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
“Jamie was Lou’s one night stand. She doesn’t want to say anything to him yet as she doesn’t have the scan till Wednesday and won’t be sure of her dates until then.
So don’t breathe a word to him about her being pregnant. She doesn’t want to scare him off.”
“You could give me credit for having some tact.” His dark brown gaze locked with mine and my breath hitched a little at the back of my throat.
I was suddenly aware that we were standing very close together inside the doorway of my room and all I had on - barely covering my bum - was an old baggy tee-shirt that I used to sleep in during hot weather.
“I, um, need to go and get washed and dressed.” I took a small step back only to be bought up short by the cold metal frame of my bedstead bumping against the back of my calves.
“Five minutes.” Steve turned and left the room while I sank down on the bed with trembling legs.
I gave myself a moment to gather myself together before grabbing my DIY
work gear and heading for the bathroom. It wasn’t fair that Steve still had this effect on me when it clearly didn’t work both ways.
I dressed and brushed my teeth listening out for any sounds downstairs that might indicate Jamie had arrived. Once dressed I knocked on Lou’s door.
“Wassup?” Yawning, she opened the door.
“The guys will want to start on the bathroom soon. If you want to use the loo and get washed I’d do it now before there’s a big hole where the window used to be.”
“Was that Steve I heard earlier? Did he get my text? He isn’t going to say anything to Jamie is he?” Her eyes widened.
“It’s okay, I spoke to him and he won’t say anything.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Whew, that’s a relief.”
“Go on, I’m going to go and make some breakfast. Do you want anything?”
She shuddered and shook her head. “I’ve got some ginger biscuits. Anything other than that and I’ll be spending the morning yakking up into your flowerbeds.”
With that lovely mental picture I left her to it and went downstairs to find Steve. Mr Flibble met me in the hallway, twining his fat ginger body around my legs as I walked until I was forced to scoop him up to fuss him.
“Silly old puss.” I petted him in the soft spot under one battered ear. As I did so I glanced through the open doorway into the lounge. The room appeared brighter in the morning light and I wondered why I’d been so scared yesterday.
I kissed the top of Mr Flibble’s head and he stiffened in my arms before wriggling frantically for me to release him. Puzzled, I looked around to see what had distracted him. Normally he loved to be petted.
He stood in front of me, his back arched and a slow hiss coming from his furry throat. His one good eye was focused on the fireplace. My feet were glued to the spot and I couldn’t move. By the side of the fire a whitish mist seemed to form, growing taller in shape.
* * *
The spirit maid was there once more, this time in the passageway. I tried to concentrate and bring her more into form so I could challenge her to find out who she was and where she was from. I prayed as I focused, muttering the Lord’s Prayer to protect me. But the harder I tried to reach her, the fainter she became.
* * *
I blinked to clear my vision, wondering if my imagination had started to play tricks on me. Mr Flibble yowled and spat, and as quickly as it had appeared, the mist dispersed leaving the room empty like before. Mr Flibble relaxed and I released the breath I’d subconsciously been holding.
The door from the kitchen opened. Automatically, I took a step back.
“Are you up and ready now? Jamie’s here.” It was only Steve. He looked questioningly at me. “Are you all right, Kate?”
I peeped back at the lounge, empty and innocent.
“Fine. A quick cup of tea and we’ll get started.” I shivered as I followed him into the kitchen and vowed to call Brian the paranormal investigating bin man as soon as possible.
Steve went back outside to join Jamie in the garden while I tidied up and scoffed a quick slice of toast. I tried to tell myself that my eyes had been playing tricks on me or that my imagination was still working overtime but I knew what I’d seen. Outside in the garden I could hear muffled thumps and bangs as Steve and Jamie began to prepare to remove the window.
Steve leaned over the top of the scaffold as I ventured into the garden. “We’re going to take the glass out first, Kate. Can you find those hessian sacks I’ve saved in the outhouse?”
I placed my plate on the patio table and shuddered. The outhouse had mice and possibly rats. There were definitely spiders in there, huge hairy beasts as big as the palm of my hand. I disliked it even more than the lounge and that was saying something. Luckily for me Steve had left the sacks right inside the door so I could nudge them out with a broom and didn’t have to go foraging around in the dark trying to spot them. Nothing alive ran out from under them when I gave them a poke so I picked them up and carried them back round to the patio.
Jamie took them from me and clambered back up the ladder to where Steve was busy with the screwdriver dismantling the glass panes.
A stream of swear words from Steve m
ade me nervous. “Be careful with the glass.”
“I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing.” His terse reply didn’t fill me with confidence.
One by one he and Jamie extracted the four fragile leaded glass panels, wrapped them in sacking and carried them into the lounge for safe keeping.
“Why don’t you make a start on weed whacking the back garden while we get the frame out and we’ll shout for you when we’re ready to hoist the bath in,” Steve suggested on his last trip down the scaffold to collect his tools.
“Okay.” I went and collected my strimmer and goggles. I could use the time cutting back the nettle bed that isolated the walnut tree from the rest of the garden.
The activity would stop me from fretting about the window. I couldn’t see how Steve intended to get it out and back in one piece, and to be honest I felt happier not knowing.
Goggles in place I fired up the strimmer and set to work. The scent of freshly cut nettles mingled with the faint whiff of petrol from the strimmer motor as I hacked my way through the weeds towards the tree.
Close up the trunk of the tree was as wide as my waist, the bark wrinkled and grey brown like the skin of an elderly elephant. I switched off the strimmer and ran my hand across its surface feeling the coarse texture under my fingers. Above my head I could see walnuts hidden amongst the leaves. The garden seemed quiet. Only the sound of the bees humming lazily in the buddleia broke the silence.
“I wonder what stories you could tell,” I murmured as I gazed up into the green canopy.
My fingers picked up a shape in the bark and I looked more closely. The shape of a heart was carved into the trunk. Above the heart faint traces remained of two sets of initials. They had obviously been there for a long, long time. The script was old fashioned and the letters melded in the trunk.
“JT and MB.” Not Frances and Isabella then. “Who were you?” I murmured to myself.
A loud cracking sound from the patio broke my reverie and I darted out from under the tree to see what had happened.
“Oh shit!” Steve’s curse carried to where I stood.
I hurried back towards the house to discover the bathroom window frame lying on the floor in two pieces and Steve and Jamie standing beside it.
Chapter Twenty One
“Oh my God!” I stared at the splintered remains of my bathroom window.
“Bloody thing.” Steve gave it a small kick with the reinforced toe of his work boot.
Jamie coughed and wandered away down the path as Lou emerged from the back door.
“I was on my way downstairs and I heard a crash.” She halted next to the broken window frame.
“I knew I’d have to break it to get it out but I’d expected to get a controlled break so I could patch it.” Steve scowled at the frame and raked his dark hair back from his forehead.
“What do you mean, you knew you’d have to break it?” Visions of the full force of the planning laws descending on us accompanied by a huge fine sent waves of nausea crashing into my throat.
“How did you think I was going to get it out?” Steve stared at me.
I hadn’t thought about it.
Silly me, I’d assumed that commonsense would prevail and the combination of illegally removing the window and the need to return it undamaged might have told him he couldn’t get away with breaking the damned thing.
“Honest to God, Steve… What’s going to happen when the planning department see this? We’re going to be in so much trouble, you know what Mr Poole is like.” I wanted to cry. They could stop the work, fine us and I’d be stuck in this hideous cottage forever.
He paced up and down the patio. “It’ll be okay, we can get another window.”
“I’ll just nip down B and Q then shall I?” How were we going to find another eighteenth century oak framed window the exact same size and opening light pattern as the one he’d broken? Somehow I didn’t think they’d even have them at the salvage yard.
“Don’t be stupid. We can get one made. I know a carpenter, George, he helped us before when we did the town house. If he’s got some green oak it’ll only take him a couple of weeks.” He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his mobile.
“And what happens when our friendly neighbourhood planning officer arrives to inspect the work?”
He held up his hand signalling me to keep quiet while he made the call.
Fuming, I walked away towards Lou and Jamie who were huddled together talking at the far end of the patio. They broke off their conversation as I approached.
“What are you going to do about the window?” Lou asked, “Won’t you get into a lot of trouble?”
“Steve’s ringing someone he knows, a carpenter. He says he’ll get a replacement made.”
Jamie and Lou exchanged questioning glances before Jamie ambled off to see what Steve was up to.
“Oh Lou, this place is like a nightmare. We could get done for thousands over this. They could stop the work and we’ll lose everything.” My voice quivered and I pressed my hands to my eyes to stop the tears from falling down my face.
My sister slipped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hug. “It’ll be all right. Steve will sort it out. Maybe the planning people will understand if you explain.
It’s not as if you could get the bath in any other way is it?”
I took a deep breath to try and calm myself down. “We did talk about taking the tiles off the roof and getting it in that way but that would probably have been even worse.”
She gave me a little shake. “Well, then. Look, Steve’s off the phone now, lets go and see if he’s managed to get things sorted out.”
I wished I had my sister’s confidence. From our past dealings with this particular council I couldn’t see that they would be sympathetic. They had even complained when Steve had uncovered the inglenook in the lounge because we hadn’t filled out the appropriate forms.
“Well, what did he say?” I looked at Steve.
“George has some oak. We’ll get the bath in and I’ll take this frame round to his workshop. He’ll salvage what he can and make an identical frame. We’ll have to board the window over for now and hope we can get the new frame back in with the glass before Mr Poole comes again.”
Since Mr Poole’s mission in life was to visit us as often as possible I couldn’t see that we were going to get away with it. Steve stalked off inside the house accompanied by Jamie.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Lou’s worried gaze met mine. “The window I mean.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Steve and Jamie staggered out of the house with the bath. I shinned up the scaffolding with Jamie while Steve fixed the thick rope and canvas sling around the bath. He tossed the end up so it could go around the block and tackle.
Steve was to supply the muscle from the ground to lift the bath into the air while Jamie and I steadied it and guided it in to the bathroom. Once in, Steve would run inside while Jamie took the scaffold side and together they would ease it fully over the sill into the bathroom.
At least that was the plan. Lou took herself further down the patio and settled back to watch the proceedings. For once, everything went to plan and Steve heaved on the rope raising the huge bath into the air much more easily than I’d expected. Lou gave a round of applause as Jamie and I guided it through the window. My part done, I came down while Steve and Jamie heaved and tugged the bath on the last part of its journey.
“Thank God that worked. I don’t think I could have stood it if anything else had gone wrong.” I joined Lou.
“I’m sure everything will be fine.” Her mobile rang and she dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans to fish it out.
She frowned at the number on the screen. “Hello, yes, this is Louise.”
I went to step away so she could take her call in private but she placed her hand on my arm to stop me.
“No, Mrs Gulliver. My sister’s here with me, I’ll ask her.” She covered th
e mobile with her hand. “It’s Mrs Gulliver, Mum’s next door neighbour. She sounds upset. She says two men were prowling around Mum’s house this morning and there’s a sign gone up in the garden.”
“What kind of sign?” I stared at Lou.
“An estate agents sign. The house is up for sale. Mrs Gulliver was worried it might be a mistake as Mum hadn’t said anything to her and you know they’ve been friends since forever. She thinks Mum’s upset with her or something. Did Mum say anything to you about putting the house on the market?”
“No, of course not. She asked me to take care of the post and water the hanging baskets, nothing about selling up.”
Lou took her hand off the mouthpiece of the phone and tried to soothe Mrs Gulliver. After a couple of minutes she rang off and immediately jabbed the button to call Mum.
“This is that Chuck’s doing, I can tell.” Her face pinked and her eyes sparked as she waited for Mum to answer her phone. “I swear she’s taken complete leave of her senses. It’s those damn hormone replacement pills she’s been taking-” Lou broke off.
“Grr.” Lou stamped her foot and ended the call. “I am not leaving a message, I’ll try her again later.”
“Maybe it is a mistake, like Mrs Gulliver thinks. She could have just asked them to value the house and they’ve gone ahead and stuck up the sign thinking she intended to sell.” Mum had always been impulsive, her marriage to Chuck proved that, but I couldn’t see she would have gone and put her home on the market without saying a word to anyone. She’d told me she planned to look for a holiday house by the sea not moving away altogether.
“It’s listed with Mortlake and Benson. Do you have any contacts there? Can we find out if it’s a mistake?” Lou worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She only did that when she was seriously perturbed.
“I can try. I’ve had some contact with Carolyn Benson. She normally tips me off if there’s something she thinks we might be interested in coming onto the market.”