Without provocation and with its wings raised, it hopped alongside Sally and became agitated. She put her hands over her face and peered between her fingers.
“Make it go away.”
“Sally, calm down, it’s only a bird,” laughed Finn.
She screamed as it picked and pecked at her long dark hair.
“Get it the fuck away from me, please.”
Sally screeched, the raven squawked and Finn laughed.
“He’s playing with you.”
“Do something, please.”
Finn wandered over and put out his arm. He pursed his lips and made a chirping sound. The raven stopped picking at Sally’s hair, stood stock-still and looked at Finn. It squawked and clucked, then hopped away from Sally and back onto Finn’s arm.
“He’s fine, he won’t hurt you,” said Finn. He stroked the back of the bird’s neck then kissed it on its head. The raven clucked.
“He’s friendly, come over and stroke him.”
The door slammed and Finn looked up. Sally fled the office, and ran down the stairs. He strolled to the window with the raven clinging to his arm. From the first floor he watched her run across the road to the carpark. Her hair was a mess and she had speckles of blood on her white blouse.
He turned to the bird and stroked the feathers on its neck.
“I think you’ve visited me for a reason haven’t you big fella?”
The bird squawked and clucked, hopped from his arm and onto the window sill. It stretched its wings and flew away from the office.
Finn watched as it circled the air before disappearing to the east.
“I won’t be surprised if we see each other again,” he whispered before sliding the window shut.
Chapter 27
Sophie fed Jack as Heather placed their order. She worried about what was happening with her family. Finn had become a different man during the past few months. His character had taken a complete U-turn. Had he been the way he was now when they’d first met, she would have had no interest in him whatsoever. Although she had to admit since he’d been going to gym every evening his body looked fantastic.
She was worried about her sister. They had a brief conversation on the telephone and she knew that Heather had been shaken by whatever happened.
Heather approached their table, balancing two coffees and millionaire shortbread on a tray. She looked tired and older than she should for twenty-six. Heather was five years younger than Sophie, but despite the age gap, the two of them had always been close.
Heather placed the tray on the table and passed a mug to her sister.
No one spoke for a few moments and Heather watched Sophie feed Jack from his baby bottle. Sophie wiped milk away from his mouth and cuddled him as he smiled and gurgled.
“He’s growing fast. How old is he?”
“He’ll be nine months next week.”
“Jeepers Sophie, where’s that time gone?”
Sophie smiled. “What did you want to talk about?”
Heather shuffled in her chair, not sure where to begin.
“Okay, forgive me for sounding cranky, but strange things have been happening.”
“What things?”
“Hear me out, and don’t judge me. I’m not making this up.”
Heather took a swig of coffee, a bite of cake, cleared her throat and began.
“What do you remember about our great grandmother, Elizabeth?”
“She was lovely, and from what I remember special in her own way,” said Sophie with a smile.
“Do you recall the stories of her speaking with the dead?”
“Yeah, mum and gran weren’t too impressed. I think our family were considered nutters for a while.”
Heather smiled and sipped her coffee.
“But do you remember the things she did, you know speaking with the dead?”
“No, because mum and gran didn’t want to discuss it.”
“That’s the same as I remember.”
Heather became crotchety.
“What’s on your mind?” asked Sophie as she placed Jack in his pram.
“Do you remember the night she passed away, the time we all visited her in hospital?”
Sophie nodded.
“She said something, just before she died.”
Sophie didn’t speak, she stared at her sister expectantly.
“Although I was young, I can remember what she said as if it was this morning.”
“What did she say?”
Heather paused before speaking and then looked her sister in the eye. “She said that I’m blessed with the veil of tears and I should learn to use my gift wisely.”
“So is that supposed to mean you can speak with the dead?”
Heather nodded.
“Things are happening, I’m scared.”
Her sister held out her hand and gripped her palm with her fingers.
Heather explained what happened the other night when Elizabeth had appeared in her flat.
“And that’s not all,” added Heather…. “I’ve been hearing voices of other dead people.”
Sophie wasn’t sure what to say. She had an open mind, but found it hard to believe what her sister was saying was true.
“How did she look, was she like a ghost?”
“Don’t take the piss Sophie!”
“I’m not, I’m serious, and I want to know what happened.”
Heather explained in detail how Elizabeth appeared as a young woman, not the frail lady she’d been in her later years.
“And what about these other dead people?”
“There’s a grave in the churchyard at the bottom of St. Michaels Hill, do you know the church?”
“Yes, it’s boarded up, been shut a long time.”
“I was in the graveyard on the morning mum, dad and I visited you when you had Jack.”
“Why were you there?”
“That’s not important. But I was drawn to a grave. It’s old, I mean really old. It’s so old you can barely make out the inscription.”
Heather was shaking. Sophie couldn’t help but be sceptical about what Heather was telling her, but she could tell she was sincere. Either Elizabeth had appeared, or Heather had created it in her mind and believed it to be real.
“When I touched the gravestone I heard a man's voice.”
“What did he say?”
“A name, the voice said a name - Charles Samuel Nash.”
“Does Charles Samuel Nash mean anything to you?”
“Not at first. But since then other stuff’s been happening and the name ‘Charles Nash’ has surfaced a few times.”
Heather stood up. Tears welled in her eyes.
“I need fresh air.”
Sophie watched her sister step outside and light a cigarette. She'd given up smoking three years ago, but the recent happenings had frayed her nerves and yesterday she’d resorted to buying a packet of twenty. There were only three left.
She dropped the cigarette butt on the kerb and walked back into the coffee shop.
“Do you want another coffee? I’ll pay,” asked Sophie.
Heather nodded and smiled.
When Sophie returned to their table Heather looked brighter and could force a more convincing smile.
“Are you okay to carry on? I’m all ears……. Tell me about this Charles character.”
“Okay, but this is just as strange as seeing Elizabeth. Do you remember on New Year’s Day, when we went to the beach and Rosie picked that rock up?”
Sophie nodded.
“And do you remember I helped her paint it? We put eyes, nose and a mouth on it.”
“She named the stone Charlie, and it scared her. You’ve got it now, haven’t you?”
Heather nodded
“That stone head speaks and Elizabeth said that we needed each other and that I should keep it safe,” she paused, “and there’s another thing, the stone is always warm to the touch, as if it’s alive.”
“What did the ston
e head say?” asked Sophie, trying her hardest not to sound patronising.
“That we needed to talk, and it was Charles Nash’s voice…... the one who is buried in that old graveyard.”
Sophie said nothing. After Heather finished there was an awkward silence.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but it sounds very unreal.”
Heather nodded. She couldn’t blame her sister for doubting her. She would have done the same if the tables were turned.
“Is there anything tangible? Anything physical which proves these things have happened?”
“I’m not making this stuff up. I needed to speak with someone about what’s been happening and I needed to tell you,” said Heather in an agitated voice as she reached for her cigarettes.
Sophie apologised and watched Heather take another cigarette from the box.
“There is something, there's a smell.”
“A smell, when, what kind of smell?”
“When I saw Elizabeth. Do you know that smell when the rain hits the ground for the first time in ages, it’s like a seaside smell?”
“The smell of a ghost?” said Sophie, who instantly regretted the remark.
Heather glared at her.
Sophie nodded. “It’s a lovely smell.”
Suddenly, Sophie stopped in her tracks
“This smell. Is it a smell like ozone?”
Heather nodded, “Yes, I guess so, it reminds me of being by the seaside, but it’s more like fresh rain.”
“Is it strong?”
“It was quite pungent….. why?”
Sophie didn’t answer. She cast her mind back to when Rosie played in the kitchen with her imaginary friend William. She remembered a strong odour and how similar it was to fresh rain.
She reached out her hand and touched Heather’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I believe you.”
Chapter 28
During the past six months, things had gone from bad to worse in the Maynard house.
Finn’s obsession with work became all-consuming. He’d visited the United States four times since April and spent less and less time with his family. Sophie was distraught. She couldn’t understand how her husband could have changed so much. He'd become a self-centred, work oriented bully and was teetering on the edge of being psychopathic.
He'd gained seven new accounts for SOS Graphics and all of them were North American companies.
Things were changing at SOS, and his boss, Ian Tomlinson, had employed two new designers to keep up with the customers Finn had attained.
But there was one account he’d not been able to close. He was desperate to get Goldman Inc. on board. A contract with Washington based Goldman would be worth almost two million dollars.
It was early October and soon he would return to the USA to nail the deal and sign the contracts. And when he had, he would ask Tomlinson for a share in the company.
Finn Maynard’s plan was to take over SOS and turn the company into a force to be reckoned with.
Chapter 29
Mid October
A white hire van was parked outside Kieran Tempest’s house. Ruth stood by her gate and watched as he and Linda hurriedly loaded belongings into the back of the van.
It had been over six months since Butler had transferred one million seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds into Kieran’s bank account. He’d wanted to move house right away, but Linda had been reluctant to rush into a new property just for the sake of it.
At the end of September they’d found a five-bedroom house in Abbots Leigh on the outskirts of Bristol. They hadn’t put their house on the market as money wasn’t an issue.
Kieran had been getting bad vibes over the past few weeks and was itching to get out of Whitcombe Fields Road. Although he had never completely understood why Butler had been so interested in what went on in number 11a, he was aware the man’s intentions weren’t entirely wholesome and he’d prefer that he and Linda were out as soon as possible.
“Going somewhere?” called Ruth from her garden.
The couple ignored her and continued to load the van.
“I said, are you going somewhere?” repeated Ruth in a louder voice.
“What does it look like?” snapped Linda.
“I didn’t even know your house was for sale.”
“Believe it or not Ruth, there're a fair number of things in life you don’t know.”
Ruth tried not to look offended.
“Have I upset you?”
“It’s always about you Ruth isn’t it! Just for once this has nothing to do with you.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you should plan on getting out of the road too,” said Linda. Kieran shot her a glance of disapproval.
“What was that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing Ruth, my wife’s getting a bit cranky.”
Ruth strolled across the road and looked in the van. She saw a bed, two cabinets, a TV and several cardboard boxes.
“If you’re moving out, you'll need a bigger van.”
“Don’t worry Ruth, we’re only taking the essentials.”
Ruth was confused. She’d seen no ‘For Sale’ sign and she’d heard nothing of the Tempest’s plan to move. Usually, there wasn’t much that Ruth Jackson didn’t know. She was surprised to find out they were moving. She was more surprised they’d kept the whole thing a secret. And it had been a small miracle that Kieran and Linda had managed to keep their new found wealth a secret from their over-inquisitive neighbour.
“What’s happening with the stuff you’re leaving behind?”
“That’s not our problem,” snapped Kieran, ”If you don’t mind, we've things to be getting on with.”
Good riddance thought Ruth as she shook her head and crossed the road back to her house.
Kieran and Linda struggled to carry their settee into the garden.
“Put it down, I need a rest,” snapped Linda whilst grappling her end of the sofa.
“There’s no time, come on pull yourself together,” said Kieran in an urgent tone of voice.
“Just two minutes please,” pleaded his wife.
“Okay, okay two minutes,” said Kieran as he sat beside her on the three seat settee.
They took a few minutes to catch their breath and Kieran saw a bird circling above the road. He watched as it swooped and soared back above the rooftops.
“Shit!” he whispered as the large black bird turned and headed back towards Whitcombe Fields Road.
It landed on the roof of Henry Buxton’s house where it appeared to be surveying the surroundings. Kieran became agitated.
“What is it?” asked Linda.
Kieran didn’t answer. He fixed his eyes upon the bird, waiting for its next move.
The bird hopped along the roof tops of the terraced houses until it perched at the end of Ruth’s house. It looked down and cocked its head. The raven spread its wings and flew from the roof and landed on the hawthorn tree in Finn and Sophie’s barren and empty garden. It stretched it wings and squawked as it hopped from branch to branch.
“Shit, there’s no time, we’ve got to go!” shouted Kieran.
“Tell me Kieran, what is it?” pleaded Linda.
“It’s the bird, the raven, things are gonna happen sooner than I thought……… get in the van.”
“But what about the settee and the other stuff?”
“Forget it, let's get out of here.”
Kieran scared Linda. She wasn’t sure what was making him so nervous or why the bird had upset him so much.
Kieran slammed and locked the back doors of the transit and climbed in. In the rush he dropped the keys and frantically searched beneath the seat. He cursed beneath his breath as they were just out of reach. He grappled beneath the seat until he felt the plastic key fob. He snatched the keys, rammed them into the ignition, fired up the engine and left Whitcombe Fields Road for the last time.
Ruth watched from her window as the van sped away. She was confused
. She looked at their house and saw they’d left the front door open and an expensive settee in their front garden. She could hear the screech of the van’s wheels as it headed for the main road.
“What on earth is happening in this road?” muttered Ruth under her breath.
What would occur during the next few weeks would make Ruth Jackson wish she’d never set foot in Whitcombe Fields Road herself.
Chapter 30
The hot bath eased Finn’s aching muscles. The candle on the window ledge cast a warm glow which shimmered as it reflected in his aftershave decanter.
Earlier that evening he’d had a marathon of a workout at the gym. Fitness and obsessing over his physique had become his passion. He was pushing himself further each day. Others in the gym were amazed by his transformation since he became a member. He was the quiet one who rarely spoke to anyone and lost himself in his training regime.
A late night bath was something he looked forward to. It was the perfect antidote to counteract a busy day in the office and an hour in the gym. Taking a bath gave him time to reflect. It was important to look back and consider his achievements. He used the time to think about his work plan for the following day.
Work had become his other obsession. Where before he would achieve the bare minimum, now he'd become committed. Ian, his boss, couldn’t believe the transformation. Finn had come up with fantastic ideas, not only in graphic design, but also how to market SOS Graphics. He’d gained new customers and there were more on the horizon. It was all down to him. It started with his insistence to take back the Rusling account from Sally, and now there was no stopping him. His negotiations with Goldman Inc. in the States were going well, and he was planning on flying to Washington in December.
He couldn’t understand why before now he never had the urge to work hard and play hard. Before now, he focussed on his family and nothing else. Every penny he’d earned he spent on them and he never considered himself as important. Now things were different. He was the important one.
Rosie loved her father dearly, but couldn’t understand why he didn’t play with her anymore. She used to enjoy piggy back rides, hide and seek and kisses and cuddles. Lately he’d shown little interest in her.
The Third Skull (Book one - The Discovery): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller Page 14