Henderson Manor

by Emma L. Clapperton

  As she drew closer she slowed her pace, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her brow furrowed, almost like she was trying to see more clearly. Eventually, she realised that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her; what she thought she had saw was entirely correct.

  Henderson Family

  Here we lay together not able to go on

  We trust in you to stay together

  And keep the family strong

  We worked hard everyday

  To get to where we are

  Our family ties will keep us together

  For we are never really far

  Here lies Ava Henderson

  1871-1949

  A loving wife to Walter and mother to George

  Walter Henderson

  1870-1950

  A loving husband to Ava and father to George

  George Henderson

  1896-1970

  A loving husband to Anna and father to Audrey

  Anna Henderson

  1898-1970

  A loving wife and mother

  Audrey Henderson

  1957-1982

  A loving wife to James and mother to Sarah

  James Henderson

  1923-2002

  A loving husband to Audrey and father to Sarah

  Helen Henderson

  1921-2008

  Wife, mother and grandmother

  “What?” Jodie whispered. She stared at the burial plots that were in her garden. “Is this a joke?” she said, louder this time.

  She turned on her heel, half marching, half waddling back into the kitchen where Patrick was tidying up.

  “You didn’t get lost then?” He smiled.

  “No, no I didn’t get lost, but I did find something rather interesting,” she returned the smile sarcastically.

  Patrick looked up. He understood in her tone that something was wrong. “What is it?”

  “Oh, you mean you didn’t know that there are gravestones on our property?”

  Patrick smiled, “Oh, that? I thought there was something wrong.”

  Jodie couldn’t believe how calm he was. “What do you mean, oh that? Patrick, there are gravestones, burial plots on our new property!”

  Patrick took her hand and led her to the kitchen table. “Did you read them?”

  “Yes, there are bloody seven of them under there,” her head was in her hands.

  “What’s wrong? It’s only a few memorials of the people who used to live here. The first man to have gone in there was born over one hundred years ago, in this house by all accounts. I think it’s a nice history to come with the place. Come on, there had to be something to come from a house this old. It gives the house character.”

  Jodie nodded, knowing he was right. But she still couldn’t believe that there were dead people in her garden. “Yes, but I didn’t actually think we’d get the remains and the history.”

  Patrick laughed. “Hardly. Come on Jodie, you of all people should know that this isn’t going to turn into a zombie fest. It’s just that, the family who owned this ‘manor’ as they named it wanted the family history to stay here as long as possible. Each one of them lived here, reared their children here and died here. They ran a whisky firm by all accounts, Henderson Whisky funnily enough.”

  Jodie rolled her eyes. She knew fine well that there was nothing scary about death, yet she was still surprised that there were graves in her garden. “I know. Well, so long as we don’t end up in there that’s all I care about.”

  Patrick smiled. “Very funny, come on, let’s get up and unpack our bedding. I’m done for the day.”

  “And if you hear from any one of them, keep it to yourself. I’d rather not be aware of an old spirit wandering around our house while I’m in the bath.” Jodie was laughing, however she wasn’t joking. She really didn’t want to know about anything spiritual until the baby was born. She didn’t need the stress. Remembering how ill it made her when Patrick was working alongside the police and Ross was going around strangling people made her shiver. She didn’t want to become ill with stress when she was pregnant with her first child.

  “I won’t say a word.”

  As they climbed the stairs to their new bedroom, both were unaware of the presence already appearing before them.

  Ada Henderson knew fine well that Patrick was the only person who would be able to help her and the rest of the Henderson family bring home what was rightfully their own.

  19

  The gravel was surprisingly smooth yet cold on his bare feet as he made his way across the grounds, towards the Henderson memorial plot. He had decided to call it a memorial plot rather than graves or burial plot. Even though having them on the grounds of his house didn’t bother him at all, he still would rather that Jodie felt comfortable in her own home. So if that meant changing the way that they referred to it, then that was what they would do.

  He found that he was walking slowly and realised that his legs felt as if they were full of lead. His eyes were focused on the memorial plot and he was aware that he felt worried but he couldn’t figure out what he was worried about.

  Help us!

  Patrick stopped when he heard it, a female voice that sounded frail and distant. He continued to walk, again feeling as though he was fighting against a force pushing him back. But he wouldn’t give in. Something was telling him that he had to get to the side of the memorial plot.

  She’s missing, came another voice now, a man this time, still frail but not as distant.

  Patrick tried to focus on his goal, getting to the memorial plot. He put all of his energy into taking one step further and by the time he reached the plot he felt physically drained. What he didn’t expect to see was what shocked him more than the struggle to get there. The plot was empty. He could see that the plot was actually split into three sections and all of them were empty. Patrick wasn’t scared of spirits but he had never experienced a situation where bodies had gone missing before. And not just any body, bodies that were meant to be buried at his house. He was nervous to look round and find all seven spirits standing there, waiting for him.

  “Who are you referring too?” he said aloud, hoping to get a name. However he wasn’t so sure a name would help; the family had been here for over a century.

  We should be together, came the first voice again.

  Patrick wasn’t sure if he had the strength for another spiritual mystery. The last one had almost sent Jodie over the edge with panic attacks and sleep deprivation. He couldn’t afford any of that to happen now.

  “I had to pick a haunted house didn’t I?” he said as he turned to face the house, fully expecting an audience. When he didn’t find one, he decided to go back inside. The security light began to flicker and just before it went out completely, he felt a coldness creep over him. The hairs on his body stood on end and he began to shiver, realising that for some reason he was only wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

  He felt a cold hand place itself upon his right shoulder just as the light went off and he turned around startled to find the face of an old woman so close to him that, had she been alive, he would have felt her breath on his face.

  Help us find her!

  Patrick found himself alone in the back grounds of the house, cold and with sore feet. He looked around for the woman who had appeared to him. She was nowhere around. When he thought about it, he couldn’t remember why he was outside in the first place. All he could think of was that he was trying to get to the memorial plot and that it had taken all his strength. His legs no longer felt heavy, so he walked over to the plot, remembering that it had been open and empty. He approached with caution only to find everything as it should be. The plots were not open and certainly not empty.

  Patrick looked up at the clear sky and breathed a sigh of relief. “I was sleepwalking.” He couldn’t understand it even though he was relieved that it was all just a dream. He hadn’t done it since he was little. He went back inside as soon as he realised and was now more than
aware that he was outside in the middle of the night, semi naked.

  As he entered the kitchen, Jodie came in through the hall’s entrance. “What are you doing?” she said as she rubbed her eyes.

  “I was bloody sleepwalking. I woke up outside,” he replied as he shook his head in confusion.

  “You haven’t done that since you were little.”

  “You’re telling me. Don’t know what that’s all about.”

  Jodie filled the kettle. “So I can’t sleep and you’re walking around in the land of nod. Fancy a cuppa?”

  Patrick nodded. “I’ll just go up and get some clothes on; it’s a bit chilly out there.”

  Jodie laughed. “Well you will be cold if you’re wandering around outside in your boxer shorts.”

  As he made his way up to their bedroom, Patrick couldn’t help but think that there was a meaning behind the dream. It had felt very real to him and he couldn’t help but think that whatever the meaning of it was, it had led him out the memorial plot. And those voices, they were so real and they had passion in their tone. They had been looking for someone. Someone they claim is missing, but missing from where?

  Patrick entered the bedroom and pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and put on a pair of thick socks to warm his toes. He walked over to the window and looked out over the front entrance of the manor. He scanned the long, gravel-covered drive and noticed that the front gates were open. Patrick was quite sure that he had closed them after the delivery men had left.

  Help us find her, was whispered into his ear. He jumped not only at the voice but also at the reflection in the window. Patrick spun round but there was no one behind him. He realised that he had been right, the dream did mean something and it had led him out to the plot. Patrick decided that he would communicate and find out who exactly was contacting him and why. But not now; it was too soon.

  “We’ve only just moved in for god’s sake.”

  He switched off from the connection and went down to join his wife for a cup of tea, leaving the spirits of goodness knows who to wait until he was ready for them. Patrick really hadn’t expected something to come up in this house, or at least not so soon. He didn’t want Jodie to know, so he kept it to himself, allowing her to enjoy the pregnancy in peace.

  As he entered the kitchen, he found that Jodie had already made his tea and had laid his mug on the kitchen table, across from where she was now sitting. “So … barefoot?

  Patrick shook his head. “I know. I haven’t a clue why, maybe because we’re in a new house on the first night. Maybe my mind was trying to work its way around the place while I slept.”

  Jodie knew fine well there was something that he wasn’t telling her and she was, in all honesty, a little pissed off that he was keeping it from her. “You said that this was a fresh start for us.”

  Patrick looked up, uncomfortable with the indirect approach she had taken for what she really wanted to say. “It is a fresh start.” His throat was beginning to dry up; she really did know how to get his pulse racing.

  “Then why the lies?” She was smiling but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Lies?”

  “Why were you really out there? I believe you were sleepwalking but I don’t believe you when you say you don’t know the reason behind it.” Jodie tapped the mug with her index finger, the nail creating a ‘ding’ sound against the porcelain. She watched as he sighed heavily, knowing that she had quickly worn him down and that he was about to tell her what was really going on.

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, really. I can handle whatever it is that’s going on here by myself.”

  “So, there is something going on?”

  He looked down at her bump, knowing that any potential stress could be harmful to their baby. Patrick certainly didn’t want to be the one who put his baby or wife in harm’s way. “Like I said, nothing for you to worry about.”

  “You said that the last time. It was something you and the police would work on and I didn’t have to worry. Then look what happened; I almost died. I don’t know about you but I do not want anything like that to happen ever again, especially now that we are going to be parents.”

  Jodie had grown since Ross Turner had almost killed her. It had taken her a while to get over being kidnapped and held hostage while he planned to kill her in a gas explosion. For two months she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the inside of the boot that he had used to transport her to his flat. She still couldn’t remember much of that. All she could remember clearly was being in that room, the door boarded up and a montage of those voices, telling her to stay calm, be strong, play him at his own game. Ross Turner had been a vile man but a very clever one; using Jodie at his advantage would have been a murderer’s dream had his plan not been foiled by the help from the spirits of his victims. Jodie had vowed never to allow herself to become a channel for anything like that ever again and after she had mentally recovered, she decided to switch of her psychic ability and concentrate on her own life. When she found out she was pregnant, nothing on earth would stop her from protecting her family. Jodie understood that the spirits that came to her and Patrick weren’t always looking for a killer but she never wanted to take that chance again. Jodie understood that Patrick needed to carry on — he was running the church and his success in catching Ross alongside was what drove him to continue his work in the church. If he could help more people, then he would.

  “I am serious. If you don’t want to worry then I don’t have to tell you.”

  “Patrick, that’s ridiculous. You’re my husband and this is our new home, if there is something happening here, I want to know about it.”

  Patrick knew that this was leading to an argument and either way Jodie would be the one who suffered from it. If he didn’t tell her then she would be angry at him for keeping it from her and if he did tell her what happened out at the plots, then she would worry about the effect it would have on him and their relationship, not to mention the baby.

  “You’ve got me over a barrel here.”

  “So, tell me. You know it’s a strain if you don’t.”

  “You’re sure you want to know? Earlier today you said you’d rather not know,” Patrick pressed, willing her to change her mind. She nodded, showing him that no amount of stalling would change her mind or make her rethink.

  “Ok, I’ll tell you.” Patrick moved around to the same side of the table as Jodie; he wasn’t so sure why he did this but he felt it necessary. “I was led out there, to be shown something.”

  “Shown what?”

  “The plot outside; when I got out there, in my head the plot was open.”

  “In your head it was open?”

  “Yes but not only that, the plot was empty. There were no bodies inside.”

  Jodie shook her head. “You’re sure about this?”

  “I was told that there is someone missing from it. That I had to help find her, that they should all be together.”

  Jodie took his hand, “Who’s missing?”

  Patrick shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  20

  “I can’t believe he’s mine!” Jodie said as she stared down into baby Lewis’s eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes that she had ever seen. They were deep blue in colour and so alert.

  “Ours,” Patrick smiled.

  Jodie nodded, “Yes, of course ours. But what I mean is that he is mine. Nothing else has ever felt like mine before, nothing like this. He belongs to us — we created him. I don’t think I have ever or will ever love anything as much as him ever again.”

  Patrick felt like his heart would burst, pride and love had completely consumed him. Jodie had been amazing during Lewis’s birth and he was so incredibly proud of her for bringing him into the world safely. He owed his life to her now for giving him the best gift that you could ever possibly give.

  “Unless we have more that is?”

  Jodie laughed gently, “Let’s give this little one time to settle f
irst before we start creating a football team.”

  Patrick stood up and moved across to the window in the hospital ward. It was stifling hot outside and the hospital staff didn’t allow fans to be brought in, in case of spread of infection.

  There were three other beds on Jodie’s ward, all of which were unoccupied, which they found strange. However Jodie wasn’t complaining; she had some time to herself. Lewis had fallen asleep in her arms after feeding and she gently placed him in the little hospital cot beside her bed. She covered him with a small blanket and watched as his little chest moved gently as he breathed softly.

  They were getting home the next morning and Jodie couldn’t wait to get Lewis settled into his new home. “I can’t wait to be home and be a family with you both.”

  Patrick turned from the window and smiled widely. He drank in the fact that he was now a dad, wholly responsible for the tiny person in the cot beside Jodie’s bed. He couldn’t be happier and he loved how much he loved Lewis and Jodie right at that moment. He took in the perfect picture of his wife and his son sitting by the bed and understood that he would have to make sacrifices for both of them for the rest of his life.

  “Do you fancy a tea?” he asked Jodie.

  “That would be nice.”

  Patrick kissed Lewis on the head as he slept and made his way down to the café in the Southern General Hospital. He took his time, walking slower than he normally would, considering his new responsibility and what it would mean for the career side of his life. Being a psychic medium had its rewards but it also meant meddling in another being that had proved dangerous for him and Jodie in the past. Of course that would never happen again but he just wasn’t sure that he ever wanted to take that risk. The risk was even higher now that Lewis had arrived and Patrick never wanted to put him in any kind of danger because he could speak to the dead. Lewis wouldn’t even be here if Ross Turner had succeeded in his plan. Fortunately, Patrick had been one step ahead.