Henderson Manor

by Emma L. Clapperton

  Patrick found himself in front of the tea and coffee machine and pressed for two teas after sliding the coins into the slot.

  Walking back to the ward, he heard Lewis crying. His heart swelled at the sound of his son’s heartbreak. He entered the ward and found Jodie rocking him gently as she stood by the window. She looked up as she saw Patrick. “Wind.”

  “Is he ok?”

  “He will be. Just need to rub his back and he’ll be fine.”

  Patrick placed the tea on the bedside stand and was at Jodie’s side in the blink of an eye. He held his arms out, “Can I?”

  Jodie handed Lewis over, who was grumbling in the process. He was tiny in Patrick’s arms and Jodie felt tears sting her eyes. Lewis grumbled a little more and then settled in his dad’s arms. He looked up at Patrick’s face, trying to make sense of the colours and shapes that were in his line of sight.

  “Seems ok now,” Patrick said, gently swaying Lewis back and forth.

  “You’re a pro.” Jodie wiped the tear that threatened to fall.

  Jodie felt a sudden bout of tiredness creep over her and she climbed into the bed. Resting her head on the pillow, she watched as Patrick placed Lewis back into his cot.

  “Go to sleep Jodie. You’ll be home this time tomorrow and everything will be perfect.” He looked up, expecting protest, but she was already asleep.

  “Well little man, you’ve only been in the world eight hours and already you’re tiring your poor mum out.”

  Patrick sat in the chair next to the bed and watched his wife and son as they slept peacefully. He knew then that he had to consider the possibility of giving up his place in the world of mediums. It wouldn’t be easy but if it meant a better life for his family then that’s what would have to happen. There would be a lot to do — he would have to find someone to take over the church and find a full-time job to pay for the house. But he didn’t care what it took, so long as Jodie and Lewis were always happy and safe.

  “You sure you really want to do that?” He heard Jodie ask.

  Patrick smiled, “You’re not supposed to listen to my private thoughts.”

  “They’re only private if they don’t involve me and our son.” Her eyes were still closed.

  “It’s the best thing for all of us.”

  Jodie nodded gently, “I know. It’s just been such a big part of our lives for so long. You’re sure you really want to throw it away?”

  “I’m not throwing it away. I am going to find someone to take over. Obviously I will still run it until the right person comes along. I need to give it up for us, for Lewis. I can’t just live for the dead anymore, Jodie. I need to do this for Lewis.”

  Jodie didn’t argue because she knew that there was no way to persuade him to keep going with the church. In a way she was glad. The whole Ross situation had put her off the spirit world. It had only brought bad luck to their door and she certainly didn’t want any of that now that Lewis had arrived.

  She slept soundly at the thought that Lewis was at the forefront of every decision Patrick would ever make.

  21

  “What do you fancy for lunch?” Sam asked as he looked at the menu. He and Deborah were going strong. Their relationship had moved quickly and Sam had been happy at the prospect. In fact, he couldn’t have been any happier if he tried. Months of dates, talking and spending time together, Sam had come to fall in love with Deborah and he had forgotten all about his troubled past.

  “I think I’ll have the omelette with a side order of vegetables,” Deborah replied.

  The sun shone brightly through the window and it warmed their skin. Deborah had been blissfully happy in her relationship with Sam since Jenny’s weird episodes had calmed down. Sam had been attentive, loving and everything else you could imagine to make their relationship as perfect as she had always wanted.

  Their love hadn’t blinded them in all fairness as there were still strange happenings within the flat. The happenings were small things that you mightn’t notice or, if you are one to think logically, you would have explanation for. Keys jingling quietly as they hung on the key hook, the kettle switching on by itself and walking out of a room one minute and the next walking back in to find all of the windows open as wide as they could go. Sam was honest only with himself and found it hard to come up with reasonable explanations for the events which were taking place in his home. He was always reassuring towards Deborah and Jenny though, and would laugh off the events. Deborah wasn’t stupid, and so she knew what was going on scared them all but she preferred to go along with Sam’s uncaring attitude. She knew his attitude towards the situation wouldn’t last.

  The waitress made her way over to their table to take their order. Without looking up from her little pad of paper she said, “What can I get for you?”

  Sam looked up to greet the waitress, only to discover he recognised her. “Claire?”

  Claire glanced up from her pad and beamed a smile at him. “Well, you’ve not been in for a while. How’ve you been?”

  Deborah’s stomach lurched as she watched her man engage in conversation with another female. This female was pretty, with short dark hair and rosy cheeks; this was not good. Deborah cleared her throat to distract Sam.

  “Oh, Deborah, this is Claire. She has been a waitress here for a long time. You’ve actually met before, on one of our first dates,” Sam said happily.

  Claire smiled at Deborah, happy that his crazy friend Jenny was nowhere around. “Hi.”

  Deborah returned the smile; however it barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble placing you.”

  “Likewise. It must have been a quick introduction,” Claire replied.

  Sam turned from Deborah to face Claire again. “She’ll have the omelette and a side order of vegetables and I’ll have my usual.”

  Usual? Deborah suddenly thought. How often is he in here without me?

  Claire scribbled the order down. “I can’t stay and chat — this place is mobbed today. I’ll have it with you shortly.”

  Deborah watched as Claire walked back to the kitchen and disappeared behind the door. She turned to Sam, not wanting to spoil the afternoon.

  “She seems nice.”

  Sam nodded, completely unaware that Deborah was gritting her teeth and wringing her hands together. “Yeah, she’s worked here for ages. Just know her from coming in all the time.”

  “With Jenny?”

  “Not always. Sometimes come in for a takeaway before work, especially if I’m rehearsing. She always throws in an extra sausage or toast.”

  Deborah smiled through her anger and knew that the best thing to do would be to change the subject and steer Sam from wanting to come back to this café again, from wanting to see Claire.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” She asked.

  “Sorry babe, got rehearsals at the theatre tonight. Will probably be out to well after midnight. The show is less than a month away so it’ll be all go for the next month.”

  Deborah grinned. “If you have to work then you have to work. I’ll just wait up for you. Maybe there’ll be a surprise on your arrival.”

  Sam returned the grin, knowing exactly what she meant. “I’ll make sure I get my lines perfect in that case.”

  Claire returned with their food and Deborah found it best not to look at her. After their meal, Deborah excused herself from the table and she made her way to the bathroom. She sat down on the seat and tried to rid herself of the jealousy that had taken over her mind. She knew that Sam was head over heels with her and she knew that he would never cheat on her but there was something in Claire that she didn’t like. Perhaps the fact that she was pretty and Sam engaged in pleasant conversation was a factor, also knowing that Sam had a usual meal choice and that she wasn’t always with him when he was in the café.

  Deborah’s thoughts were interrupted by two women entering the bathroom. They were giggling and she recognised Claire’s voice straight away.

  “
He just gets better looking every time I see him,” she heard Claire say.

  “I know, he is just flawless: that jaw line, his hair. He looks even better in real life than he does on telly,” girl number two replied.

  “If he was single I would definitely ask him out.”

  Deborah smiled as she opened the cubicle door. She met Claire’s eyes in the mirror and Claire’s rosy cheeks drained away.

  “Uh…” was all Claire could say.

  “You’re right, he is better looking in real life. And you know what else?” Deborah spoke as she casually washed her hands.

  Girl number two didn’t know where to look. “We’re just messing about.”

  Deborah ignored her. “He’s fantastic in bed too. And he’s all mine, so if you were planning on waiting until he’s single, you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

  She stuck her hands under the hand dryer and even though her heart wanted to burst out of her chest, she kept her composure.

  “Look, there’s no harm here. It’s just a bit of girly banter,” Claire tried to fill the silence.

  Deborah turned to face her and as the hand dryer switched itself off, the silence which filled the room was chilling. She didn’t reply to Claire’s words; she simply walked through the girls and left the bathroom.

  Girl number two turned to Claire. “Jesus, she’s a bloody head case!”

  “That’s nothing; you should meet his friend Jenny. I don’t know what it is he does to women but after that I don’t think that he will be back in here, not without her anyhow.”

  Girl number two shook her head and went into one of the cubicles. “You think they’re a threesome?”

  Claire laughed. “No. I don’t know but whatever the relationship between those three, it’s weird. The funny thing is, he seems to be oblivious to it.”

  Deborah walked away from the opposite side of the door when she heard the flush of a toilet.

  Sam looked up as she appeared at the table. “You ready?”

  Deborah nodded as she picked up her coat and followed Sam out to the street. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  22

  Jodie was happy that she had all the time in the world now that she had settled Lewis into their home at Henderson Manor. She had mentioned to Patrick about perhaps changing the name on the plaque at the front of the house from Henderson Manor simply to McLaughlin or something else a little less creepy. The name Henderson Manor did not suit the modern-day reality that the house was now a part of. It almost sounded more like a horror was being filmed on the grounds rather than a new family building a life there. Patrick hadn’t understood the urgency in her suggestion and thought that there were more important things that they should be thinking about rather than the name of their house.

  “I just don’t like it. When Lewis is at school the kids will make fun of him,” she had stressed.

  “You think the kids at his school won’t like him because his house has a name? Come on Jodie, don’t be ridiculous!”

  She knew it sounded unreasonable but something inside her didn’t feel right. Henderson Manor sounded like the setting of some old legendary horror tale. “I’m not being ridiculous; I’m just saying I want to change it. And anyway, we’re not called Henderson, we’re McLaughlin, so if anything it should be called McLaughlin Manor or McLaughlin House.”

  Patrick nodded. “And we can start calling it that if it means that much to you. We’ll change the plaque too but not now. We have to decorate this place and if you haven’t already noticed, it’s going to be a big job for me.”

  The conversation was left at that and Jodie didn’t mention it again. She wanted to focus on how to be a good mum to Lewis and for their new family to work, she thought it best to forget about renaming the house. It was a little ridiculous how strongly she felt about it and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why she felt the way she did about the name. Jodie put it down to the fact that she wanted the house to be in their name and not some other family who had no living relatives left.

  “I’m not speaking or thinking ill of the dead, you’ll understand,” Jodie had said aloud as she watered the flowers next to the memorials at the back of the house. “I just want this to be our home. Time moves on and things change; we won’t completely erase you from the house. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. There’s too much history here; a coat of paint and a roll of wallpaper couldn’t erase that.”

  Since Patrick had told Jodie about the connection which he had made to one of the deceased Henderson family members before Lewis was born, nothing else had happened, which Jodie was glad of. Whatever meaning was behind the message had obviously not meant enough for them to carry on contacting Patrick.

  Jodie looked up when she heard Lewis babbling from his pram. She had moved the seat upwards and pulled the hood up to shield his little head from the sun. Even though it wasn’t hot, she didn’t want to risk him burning. His little eyes darted back and forth, taking in the bright colours and sounds around him. He spotted his mum as she approached the pram and his little legs began bouncing up and down. His pink, toothless smile melted Jodie each time she looked at him.

  “Hi baby, are you laughing at mummy talking to herself?” She asked softly as she lifted Lewis from the pram.

  At eight months old, he was as bright as a button and smiled constantly which reminded Jodie each day, why she had decided to give up her place at the church. Spending every day with her son had made her realise that life was much more than death. With the greatest of respect for the dead, Jodie knew that her heart no longer lay with them and all she wanted was to be a mum and a wife.

  “Come on baby boy, let’s get you to the park and see if we can feed those ducks.”

  Walking with Lewis had become a daily occurrence and she had managed to get back to her pre-pregnancy weight. Jodie enjoyed walking around the park with Lewis, listening to him babble to himself and coo as the gentle breeze touched his face. She would never have thought a baby’s voice could be so tranquil.

  As she reached the park bench that she sat on each day, she put on the back brake of the pram, made sure that Lewis was covered with his blanket as he slept and took out her book. The weather was pleasantly warm for late February and the breeze had faded and so Jodie felt comfortable to sit there for as long as she could.

  Feeling content that Lewis would have his full two hour afternoon nap, Jodie opened her book and began to lose herself within the pages of a story far from the world she knew to be reality.

  “Hello,” came an unfamiliar voice which startled her.

  Jodie looked up and saw a young woman sitting beside her on the bench. Lewis was still fast asleep, cosy under his blanket.

  “Hi,” was all Jodie could manage. Well, it was all she wanted to manage; whoever this person was had interrupted the peacefulness of reading and escaping from the world for just a few hours. She lowered her head back into the book and scanned the page, looking for the words her eyes last read.

  “Is this your son?” The woman asked again.

  No, I stole him from the hospital! Jodie thought sarcastically but thought better to answer more politely. “Yes, he is.”

  She didn’t feel comfortable with how close the woman was and discreetly shuffled along the bench by leaning into the prams basket underneath to check her mobile phone, even though she knew it was switched off.

  The woman stayed in the same place on the bench and continued to look at Lewis as he slept.

  “Can I help you with something?” Jodie said, hiding the irritation in her voice.

  The woman smiled, “Sorry, I just like to sit here sometimes. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Jodie shook her head, “I don’t mind. I sit here every day at this time, but I have never come across you.”

  The woman smiled again and looked across the duck pond ahead of them. “My mum used to bring me here when I was a baby. She told me when I slept in the pram, she would sit here and read, just like you are now.”

  Ju
st like I was, until you interrupted me, Jodie thought. And then she instantly felt guilty. She could tell that this woman was reminiscing about her mum, who was obviously no longer with her. She had spoken to enough people in the church over the years to understand when someone spoke fondly of a past loved one.

  “Are you ok?” Jodie found herself asking.

  “It just reminded me of my mum telling me that when I saw you. It was nice to see that this bench is still being used for that purpose.”

  Jodie felt this woman’s heart aching but she sensed that it wasn’t just for her dead mother.

  “I’m Jodie,” she said with a smile.

  “Nice to meet you Jodie; and who is this little chap?” the woman asked as she peered into the pram?

  “This is Lewis. He’s my first.”

  The woman looked at Jodie and said nothing. She just stared into her eyes, as if searching for something.

  “What?” Jodie asked. She frowned at the woman, not knowing how to take her.

  The woman’s eyes were suddenly dark and shadows began to fall over her face. “You are living in a house that you no longer feel comfortable with. You don’t know why you suddenly feel this way but you will soon find out, and when you do, you’ll want to get out of there and stay away. Bad things will happen in that house; you don’t want your little Lewis to experience any of it.”

  Jodie was stunned by the woman’s sudden outburst of words. She said them with kindness though; her intention wasn’t to frighten Jodie but to warn her.

  “Hang on a minute. How do you know about my house?”

  “Let’s just say I knew the family who lived there once.” The woman stood up, smiled down at Lewis and then cast her eyes upon Jodie once more. “Think about what I have said. Something will come into your life that you have been trying to keep out since you found out that you were going to have your baby and you won’t be able to stop it.”