Variations on a Haunting Theme

by Alan Millard

  ‘There you are,’ said Liz. ‘I’m not the only one who believes in ghosts.’

  ‘She didn’t say she believed in them. She was talking about the students. Being an impressionable young student at the bottom of a lane on a dark night with trees all around it would be easy to imagine a hanging man. Anyway we eventually reached the top of the lane and found a grassy patch covered with thousands of daffodils. So there we were amongst the daffodils looking towards this amazing mansion, and...’

  ‘You took her in your arms and kissed her.’

  ‘More than that - I proposed!’

  ‘And she accepted?’

  ‘She did, on the spot. We went back to her house a different way walking on air wondering whether we should tell her parents straight away or keep it to ourselves for while. But as soon as we walked into the house I think they already knew or had guessed from the look on our faces. When we told them there were hugs and congratulations all round. Dinner that night was fantastic. They opened a bottle of champagne and after that we went on to the beer and wine. As bedtime approached I started to feel uneasy knowing there were only three bedrooms and wondering where I’d be sleeping. Looking back I don’t think the sleeping arrangements had caused her parents any concern. Engaged or not they’d assumed I’d be sleeping with Sophie. The bed was made up and we slept together.’

  ‘So you both lived happily ever after.’

  ‘There was still a lot to sort out but Sophie’s mother saw to the arrangements. The wedding was to take place at Christ Church, Cockfosters where Sophie and her family were regular churchgoers. Her father was on the PCC and her mother chaired the Mothers’ Union.’

  ‘Are you churchy?’

  ‘Me? No. I suppose I believe in something but I’m not sure what.’

  ‘Did that cause any problems?’

  ‘No, I went along with it all. Nobody asked if I was a Christian. They just assumed I was. The only problem for me apart from not being familiar with the prayer book was being expected to travel to London on three weekends in a row to hear the banns being read. It wasn’t necessary but Sophie wanted me there.’

  ‘And you always do what Sophie wants?’

  ‘If I can, yes. Our families met up for the first time on the day of the wedding. Everything went to plan. After the wedding we had the reception at a hotel just up the road from the church. Everyone had rooms for the night and we left for our honeymoon on the following day.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘We rented a house in Yeovil and finally bought our dream home.’ Trevor’s coffee was cold but he drank it. ‘So, that’s the story. Now you know all there is to know about Sophie and me.’

  They put their cups to the side. Wispy translucent cloud was spreading in from the west and turning the sky milky. They were still standing at the window when Ken Barnes reappeared. ‘What’s all this then? Finished already, have you?’

  ‘We were just taking a short break.’

  ‘Well breaktime’s over.’ Ken dumped a drawing on Trevor’s desk. ‘When you have a minute take a look at this. The client isn’t happy. I’ve scribbled some notes on what needs changing. When you’ve sorted it put it back on my desk. I’ll be out for the rest of the day but I want it there first thing on Monday.’

  Eighteen miles away Sophie was sitting in the kitchen glancing through her script of An Inspector Calls which she would be producing for the drama group’s annual Easter performance in the village hall as soon as the January pantomime was over. Far from the glamorous future she’d dreamed of at university she’d ended up in a small village producing plays for St Michael’s Masquers.

  Bearing in mind the actors’ backgrounds her decision to stage An Inspector Calls had been an inspired idea. The play’s fictional Burling family seemed hand-made to fit the real-life characters in the drama group. Cedric Cole was a retired bank manager and could take the part of the pompous materialist Arthur Burling without even needing to act. His wife Muriel was the ideal match for Mrs. Burling. Tracy, the idealistic sixth-form student would be perfect as Burlings’ daughter Sheila and Stan who spent most of his time in the village pub was made for the part of Eric, Sheila’s brother. The only character left to cast apart from the inspector was the aristocratic Gerald Croft and Colonel Briggs who lived in the Manor and clearly fancied himself as the lord of the manor would be perfect for the part.

  With her casting completed Sophie jotted some notes and closed the script. As she did so she found herself staring down at the front cover transfixed by the play’s title An Inspector Calls. The words appeared to be leaping up at her from the cover. She was suddenly gripped with fear. Shivers ran up the back of her spine and rendered her frozen to the spot unable to move for several minutes. All she could do was gaze at the words, An Inspector Calls. For no apparent reason they’d taken on a meaning all of their own as if they were spelling out something of grave significance which she couldn’t begin to comprehend. It was almost as if they were telling her an inspector really would be calling later that day and bringing with him some terrible news that would stun her as much as the fictional Burlings were stunned by the inspector in the play.

  Taking hold of herself she rose from the kitchen table and placed the manuscript back in its folder. Wanting to expel the words from her mind she willed herself to concentrate on anything other than the play. She thought about the roses and card Trevor had left and the loving words he’d written. She looked around at the cottage, remembered how they’d transformed it together and did all she could to bring herself back to the here and now. But as chilling as when they’d first leapt from the page the insistent phrase kept coming back indelibly fixed in her head refusing to go away. The words were etched in front of her eyes An Inspector Calls.

  Not knowing what else to do she went for a walk attempting to rationalise what had happened. She remembered being taught how actors should draw on their own life experiences when getting into the heart of a character. She convinced herself that this was what had happened. Almost involuntarily the technique learnt as a student had come into play while she was looking at the title. The words had evoked a frightening memory from the past and although she had no idea what it was, it had frightened her. Trevor was always saying that every mystery had a rational explanation. Satisfied that this would account for the experience she was able to put the episode to rest and begin to take in the beauty of the surroundings. Without knowing where she’d been going she’d taken a path through the woods to the river, a walk she often took with Trevor on balmy evenings in summer. Although everything was different in winter it was none the less beautiful. She looked at the bare branches of the large willow hanging down with its tips almost touching the river. The tree resembled a diagram of the nervous system she remembered seeing in one of her sister’s anatomy books - an explosive cascade of tangled stems thinning out into ever smaller ones as they reached their extremities. She looked from the willow to the river. A couple of brown ducks paddled between the reeds and a brightly coloured mallard sat motionless on the muddy bank. A pair of stately swans drifted slowly along with the current. As Sophie stood admiring it all she felt the soft touch of a raindrop landing on her arm. Glancing up she noticed the grey sheet of cloud covering the sky. She walked back quickly and reached home just as the rain began to fall.

  The eerie experience of earlier had almost faded away although it was still there in the background. To reassure herself she decided to ring the office and check all was well. Normally Trevor dissuaded her from phoning him at work but she needed to be certain he was all right. After a moment’s hesitation she dialled the number. A woman’s voice answered. ‘Hello, Accounts. Liz speaking, can I help?’

  Sophie was relieved not to hear Ken Barnes at the other end. ‘Hi Liz. Is it possible to speak to Trevor?’

  ‘Of course it is. He’s right here. Happy Anniversary by the way. Is everything all r
ight?’ Having been assured it was she handed the phone to Trevor.

  ‘Sophie darling! Is something wrong?’

  ‘Everything’s fine. I just wanted to know if you were all right.’

  ‘Me? Why shouldn’t I be? Are you sure nothing’s happened?’

  Knowing Trevor would only laugh if she told him the truth she pretended she wanted to thank him for the card and flowers.

  ‘Did you get the note?’

  ‘I did. It was sweet of you. Thank you.’

  ‘Listen Sophie, a stroke of luck. Ken’s out for the rest of the day so I’ll be leaving early. I’ve checked with the restaurant and everything’s fixed for seven thirty. How does that sound?’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Okay. I’d better get on but I’ll see you this evening early.’

  ‘So what’s all this about skipping off early?’ said Liz. ‘I’m sure Mister Barnes wouldn’t approve. I thought I heard him mention he wanted that other project you’re working on finished by Wednesday.’

  ‘You wouldn’t snitch on me, would you?’

  ‘What’s it worth?’

  Trevor glanced at his watch. ‘Lunch on me. We can walk to the Mermaid and you can choose whatever you fancy.’

  ‘Caviar and Champagne?’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Okay, deal!’ They were about to leave when Liz peered out of the window and realised it was raining. ‘Still keen to walk?’ she asked. ‘Take a look outside!’

  Trevor looked. ‘It’s not much. You’ve got your brolly.’

  ‘Why are you so set on walking?’

  ‘One - there’ll be nowhere to park and two - I can have drink.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of drinking too much I hope. You’ll be leaving early this afternoon remember.’

  ‘I’ll only have a pint. It’ll have worn off by the time I head for home.’

  The rain did nothing to improve the appearance of the ugly flat-roofed Job Centre other than make it look more depressing than usual. The Mermaid, an old coaching inn, was far more appealing. Trevor made straight for bar while Liz found a table and glanced at the menu. They both agreed on traditional roasts from the carvery and were soon tucking into their meals with relish.

  Liz had hardy touched her wine by the time they’d finished eating. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ Trevor asked. Liz chose ice cream while Trevor made do with a second pint pretending not to notice the disapproving look on Liz’s face. For a while they sat quietly studying the various groups and individuals enjoying their lunchtime break, some chatting eagerly and others, like them, saying nothing.

  ‘Did you know the notorious Judge Jefferies was supposed to have stayed here during the time of the Bloody Assizes?’ said Trevor attempting to lighten the mood.

  ‘Did he?’ Liz wasn’t particularly interested. She glanced at his glass. ‘You will be careful driving home, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘It’s just that I’ve got this uneasy feeling.’

  ‘You aren’t harping back to that weird sensation you had earlier are you, ghosts and all that?’

  ‘Just promise me you’ll drive carefully. I know you think I was imagining things earlier but it was real. I didn’t imagine it. I’ll make you a coffee when we get back. I think you might need more than one.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said knowing what she was thinking. ‘Two pints will be through me in no time. And I promise not to drive if I feel in the least bit tipsy.’

  ‘Well it’s your anniversary. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ***

  We had long since finished our tea and the fire was well and truly ablaze. Daylight was beginning to fade. I was pondering over what I’d heard and believed I could anticipate how the story would end.

  Howard got up from his chair to poke the fire and rearrange the logs. ‘A penny for your thoughts,’ he said.

  ‘I was just mulling over a few of the facts.’

  ‘Looking for clues?’

  I couldn’t help chuckling. ‘I don’t think I need to be Sherlock Holmes to see where this is going. It’s pretty obvious.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The roads will be slippery after the rain and if the temperature drops there might be patches of ice. It’s winter and it will be dark. Trevor’s going to be in a hurry and taking chances. Then there’s the business of Sophie reading An Inspector Calls. If it ends as I imagine a detective will be calling or if not a detective the police.’

  ‘I see. Any more clues?’

  ‘Only the drink! He shouldn’t have had that second pint. Trevor will have a collision on his journey home and be prosecuted not for something relatively minor like careless driving but for something more serious such as causing the death by dangerous driving.’

  ‘And what leads you to that conclusion?’

  ‘The fact that you told me he’s serving a prison sentence which means he will have committed a criminal offence.’ I’d made my point and Howard continued.

  ***

  The rain had set in with a vengeance when Trevor and Liz left the Mermaid. ‘We’ll get soaked,’ moaned Liz whose umbrella was worse than useless against the wind. They hurried back to the office and draped their sodden coats over the lukewarm radiators. Liz’s short skirt had been spared but Trevor’s trousers were drenched. She promised she wouldn’t look if he wanted to take them off and dry them out but Trevor assured her his body heat would do the job. It was just past two and too early for Trevor to leave so he spent the next hour drinking coffee and going to the loo whenever he felt the urge. Liz immersed herself in work and said very little until she asked how he felt. ‘The drink you mean? I’m fine. I told you I would be.’

  ‘Where are you going tonight?’

  ‘Just out for meal. Sophie enjoys eating out.’

  ‘What does she do all day while you’re at work?’

  ‘She keeps herself busy. She’s probably putting the finishing touches to the Christmas panto or working on the play she’s producing for next year.’

  What neither of them knew was that Sophie was doing nothing of the sort. Since returning from her walk she’d been unable to settle to anything. While Trevor and Liz were discussing her she was standing in the kitchen feeling restless and watching the rain beat against the window. The telephone rang several times before she realised and ran to pick it up.

  ‘Liz, is that you?’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Yes who else? I was ringing to wish you a happy anniversary and find out if you’re all right.’

  ‘I’m fine. What about you? You sound worried.’

  ‘It’s nothing really, just that I woke up panicking in the middle of the night. I could have sworn someone was in the room pleading for help. It sounds ridiculous I know.’

  ‘Did you see anyone?’

  ‘I thought so but dad switched on the light and no one was there. He put it down to a nightmare but I couldn’t get back to sleep and I’ve been worrying about you ever since.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘I don’t know, just a feeling that it might be connected with you in some way. Anyway, I’m better now that I’ve spoken to you. Dad sends his love.’

  ‘Send mind back.’

  ‘I will. Someone’s at the door so I’ll have to go. Bye darling. Take care.’

  ‘Bye mum.’ Sophie looked at the clock. It was ten past three. If Trevor left at four there would still be two hours to wait.

  It was half past three with no sign of the weather easing when Trevor decided to leave the office. ‘Are you sure you’re sober enough to drive?’ Liz asked.

  ‘Sober as a judge. You promise you won’t say anything to Barnes.’

  ‘Of course not. Have a great time tonight.
Remember me to Sophie.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I will.’ He retrieved his coat from the radiator and gave Liz a peck on the cheek.’

  ‘Wow that’s a first,’ she said, blushing.

  ‘There’s a first for everything.’ He threw on his coat, gave her a wink and disappeared down the back stairs jumping two at time. With the rain now bucketing down he made a dash for the car, bundled himself inside, removed his coat and tossed it on to the back seat. He sat for a moment to settle down and prepare for the journey. The parked cars around him and houses across the road were bizarrely distorted by sheets of water cascading down the windscreen. He started the engine, turned on the wipers and slowly pulled out of the car park. If all went well he should be home in well under an hour.

  Lulled into a dreamlike state by the rhythmic swish of the wipers and almost inaudible purr of the engine he’d soon be feeling the warmth of the heater and be leaving town for the open road. It was only as he approached the first roundabout and came to a halt behind a line of stationary traffic that he realised he might have to revise his ETA. Progress was no quicker on the bypass. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one leaving early. After twenty minutes of stopping and starting he reached the roundabout for the road out of town.

  Before long the lamp-lit urban streets gave way to open countryside as the road dropped through a series of blind bends to the plain below. Although it was classed as a major road there were only two lanes hemmed in by high banks. The village at the bottom of the hill where the ground levelled out had flooded where the bridge crossed the river. To make matters worse a broken-down car in the middle of the flood had brought everything to a standstill. Painfully slowly, one at a time, the drivers crawled cautiously through the water stopping to give way to oncoming traffic. Drumming the steering wheel rearing to go Trevor waited impatiently for his turn to move. Once through the flood he found himself stuck behind a furniture lorry throwing up spray and slowing him down to a snail’s pace. He switched on Radio 3 and caught the start of In Tune which meant it was already four thirty or later. Sophie would be getting anxious. With no chance of passing the lorry and the likelihood of more hold-ups ahead he began to panic. On a night like this there could easily be an accident further on causing a tail-back for miles. There had to be something he could do.