MAGDALENA'S GHOST: THE HAUNTING OF THE HOUSE IN GALLOWS LANE

by Peppi Hilton

  At the bottom of the pile of junk, she could see a small, oblong, wooden box with metal hinges, but by now the noise had disappeared. Her curiosity aroused, she lifted the box and made a feeble attempt to brush off the years of dust which had accumulated on the lid. She placed it on the hall floor, knelt down beside it and opened the lid to look inside. There was an old piece of carpet which looked to be wrapped around something, so she lifted it carefully from the box and put it on the floor. It smelt stale and musty. She carefully undid the wrapping but jumped back in horror at what she saw. It was the skeleton of an animal which looked suspiciously like that of a cat. She quickly covered it up again and left it where it was for when Anton came back. It had freaked her out, because she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that the mewing sound she’d heard seemed to have come from it. Obviously she must have been mistaken. Juniper was a big house and virtually empty of contents, so it would be difficult to ascertain where any sound was coming from. But whilst she tried to assure herself that that was the only answer, the fact it couldn’t be heard anymore surely must speak for itself. A cold shiver ran down her back.

  As the clock showed one hour after another passing by, Lucy was beginning to feel restless. She couldn’t understand where Anton had got to, if, as she’d thought earlier, he had returned and gone back out again. And as the time reached five o’clock, she began to feel uneasy. What if he hadn’t returned after all? That would mean that he wasn’t guilty of having put the old rocker back in its place. Then who did? She suspected she knew the answer, but she didn’t want to go there.

  As darkness began to cast its spell once more, Lucy became jittery. She avoided going anywhere near the scullery, so that she wouldn’t see that wretched old woman again. She now had no idea what time to expect Anton. She had been so delighted to think he had returned early in the afternoon, rather than late at night, that the true implications of that old rocker had not really registered in her mind. She knew now, if she hadn’t known before, that she had a real fight on her hands and the old woman clearly didn’t intend to give up – and that thought frightened the life out of her. She desperately waited for Anton as she paced the floor and avoided the hall where the old box was.

  When he walked through the door at seven o’clock, she ran towards him and flung her arms around him, almost sobbing in relief.

  “Whoa, steady on Luce,” he exclaimed, as he put his bag on the floor. He picked her up, spun her around and gave her a big kiss. “Am I glad to be home,” he said enthusiastically, walking her towards the sitting room with his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders.

  If Lucy had suffered doubts earlier, they were replaced with a strong conviction that he was just the same old Anton with just the same feelings about her. She was pleased, relieved and ecstatic.

  But as they passed the hall Anton stopped dead in his tracks, his nose twitching.

  “Can you smell something?”

  She looked over to the parcel on the floor and hesitated. She hadn’t really wanted to discuss that just yet, and she certainly didn’t want to spoil their precious moment together.

  “Oh, it’s just some old rubbish I pulled out of the cupboard under the stairs. I was hoping to get it cleared out before you got back so it would be one less job to do,” she fibbed.

  “Well, I’ll have to get rid of it whatever it is, it stinks!”

  They wandered arm in arm to the sitting room and Anton’s face lit up at the sight of the roaring fire. He slipped his arm off her shoulder and walked directly to the scullery.

  “I see you moved the old rocker back?”

  “No – I thought …” but then she hesitated as she realised the implications of what she was about to say. This was not the right moment. “Err, sorry, I mean yes, I’d forgotten to be honest. I thought it would stay warmer in there for you,” she fibbed again.

  She had never lied to him before and she didn’t want to start now. They had always had a very open and honest relationship – at least before Juniper that is. Now she’d been made to break that bond between them and that saddened her.

  “Oh that’s really thoughtful of you Luce.” He gave her a hug and a peck on the forehead.

  Now she really felt guilty.

  “Tell you what Luce that smell coming from the range beats that stink in the hall. Whilst you rustle up that grub – let me guess, it’s a stew – I will dump that rubbish.” His face beamed at the thought of his favourite dish and he disappeared before she could answer; so she left him to it whilst she sorted out their tea.

  Anton looked curiously at the item on the hall floor, and couldn’t resist opening it to look inside. He could see it was the remains of a dead cat and he wrinkled his nose. Carefully wrapping it again, he put it back in the box and pushed it under the stairs before joining Lucy in the sitting room.

  “No wonder it smelt Luce, it’s a dead animal. I’ve wrapped it up again and put it back in the box, which will act as a coffin. I’ll bury it later in the grounds. It must have been someone’s pet and for one reason or another they didn’t want to part with it. Sad when you think about it. But I’ll give it a good burial I’m sure whoever owned it would be happy for me to do that.” He washed his hands in the old sink and sat down at the table.

  Lucy had hoped he would dump the carcass in the skip, as she didn’t want it staying around for longer than necessary. She was convinced that the mewing sound must have come from it, no matter how outrageous that would sound when she told him. The trouble was, the longer she put off telling him the harder it was going to be. She began to feel dejected again as she realised the difficulties ahead of her, and the decisions she may have to make if he didn’t believe her. She put two bowls of stew on the table and sat down beside him feeling quite disheartened.

  “That smells delicious Luce. It’s my favourite.” He got stuck in as if he hadn’t eaten for a week.

  After a few minutes Anton noticed that Lucy was looking very down at the mouth.

  “Don’t let it upset you Luce, that dead animal will have belonged to someone who probably died years ago. There could be umpteen reasons why they left it in the box. It was probably forgotten. I didn’t mean to make you feel sad, I just speak first and think afterwards – bad fault of mine. But I’ll soon have it sorted.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly.

  But Lucy didn’t care who the dead animal belonged to, she just wanted it out of the house. The thought of it being under the stairs in that cupboard was freaking her out. What if she heard it again – but then she suddenly realised that if it started its mewing whilst Anton was home, surely he would hear it and then she could tell him all about the house being haunted without the fear of him not believing her. At least she could hope.

  After eating, Anton lifted the old rocker from the scullery and put it in front of the fire in the sitting room. He sat down and exhaled a yawn of contentment as he stroked his stomach in satisfaction.

  “I can’t tell you just how much I wanted to get back to this house of ours. That’s why I volunteered to work week-ends so that I would get home sooner, which means I can get started on the jobs more quickly. I knew I was missing it, but sitting here makes me realise now exactly how much.” He sat back and sighed. Within minutes he had closed his eyes and was snoring.

  Lucy looked at him for a few moments, he was so content. Normally she would have loved him even more for it, but somehow she felt troubled. He hadn’t mentioned missing her. On the contrary, his thoughts had been all on the house since he returned. In fact the more she dwelt on it, the more she realised that he hadn’t told her he’d missed her at all. The doubts were welling up inside her once more, and the tender thoughts she’d felt earlier were beginning to disintegrate. And what’s more she was beginning to worry. If things didn’t improve between them, if he continued to put the house before their happiness, the consequences would be unbearable. It would divide them permanently and she wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  She tidied up and washed the dish
es whilst Anton still slept. She could understand him being tired, after all he’d had a long drive and he’d been working non-stop without a break. But she was left with little or nothing to do except more housework, and she was feeling frustrated that they weren’t spending precious time together, after being apart for so long. It was understandable, but dreadfully disappointing for her. And so she browsed nonchalantly through some of the old books which had been left behind in the bookcase, but they were mostly educational and completely lost on her. They were also damp and musty and eventually they would have to be discarded when they got round to it.

  After a while she unpacked Anton’s luggage and put his clothes in the wash, but after running out of things to do, as well as energy, she decided to waken him. He awoke with a grunt, but was finally persuaded to go to bed. Lucy had put the hot water bottle in bed so that it would be warm and snug for him, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he was fast asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. He didn’t even kiss her goodnight. His back was turned to her, so she snuggled up to him and put her arms around his waist, just content that he was back and they were together.

  In the early hours of the morning Lucy was awakened suddenly by the sound of a cat mewing. At first it was distant then it seemed to move closer to the bedroom. She thought perhaps she was still sleeping and the mewing was part of the dream, until she heard the floorboards creaking and she shot up in bed. She woke Anton up abruptly by shoving him rigorously, which he wasn’t much pleased about.

  “Anton, listen, that cat’s outside the bedroom door, I’ve just heard it.” She was actually whispering.

  He turned his head slightly and looked at her, his eyes hardly open, and after gawping for a few moments he turned over and went back to sleep.

  “Anton,” she whispered, giving him a hard nudge in the back. “Listen, it’s at it again, can’t you hear it?”

  He turned his head and looked at her again, but this time a look of disdain spread across his features and for a moment he thought he was dreaming. As he was about to nod off again, Lucy grabbed his arm and shook it vigorously to bring him to his senses. He jumped up, his face like thunder.

  “There is no cat,” he yelled. “Go back to sleep and stop being stupid. You’ve obviously been dreaming.” He pulled his arm from her grasp and turned over once more, by which time the mewing had stopped.

  By this time Lucy was wide-awake, so she jumped out of bed and decided to look for herself. She opened the bedroom door, looked out onto the landing and down into the hall below, but there was no sign of anything. She began to question her own sanity, and even worse she didn’t relish Anton’s reaction the next morning – if he remembered the incident at all.

  But as delayed reaction set in, she found herself pondering on Anton’s expression when she’d shook his arm. She’d never seen him like that before. In fact, she could hardly take it in. He was furious with her, it was written all over his face. He looked strange, almost as if he was about to strangle her, or something like that. But she couldn’t help it, she thought defensively. She’d definitely heard the cat mewing and the floorboards creaking, so what did he expect her to do, roll over and go back to sleep as if it had never happened?

  Her thoughts were in turmoil again and threatening to spiral out of control. Maybe it hadn’t happened. Maybe she was going crazy after all. Maybe, just maybe, this house was driving her insane, just like its previous occupants. Maybe she will one day roam the house and make the floorboards creak, and scare the living daylights out of somebody – when she too, perhaps, has become a ghost – just like vampires turn their victims into more vampires. But now she was becoming irrational, as well as delusional, as well as neurotic and hallucinatory and … for a moment she hesitated in her thoughts as the memory of Anton’s words slowly seeped into her mind. He’d called her stupid and she’d only just realised. The Anton she knew would never have done that. Something strange had come over him and she didn’t know what. All she knew was that they had to get out of this house and leave it forever. She would be insane not to demand it, and Anton would have to face up to the truth. It was haunted, whether he wanted to believe it or not, and as neither of them had ever had any experience of ghosts, or suchlike, how could they know what their intentions were, or what they would stoop to? Their lives could even be in danger! She’d never thought of that before, because she’d been so hell-bent on believing that the house and its demons were only intent on driving her mad. But what if that was what she was meant to believe, whilst they steered her in the wrong direction and away from the truth, whatever that truth may be. She had stimulated her brain so much that she couldn’t possibly go back to sleep. She couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head and she was becoming confused and muddled, and her brain felt like scrambled eggs. She pulled on her dressing gown and slippers and went downstairs, her fear having seemingly subsided.

  She saw that the fire in the sitting room was still lit, so she gave it a stir and decided to boil some water to make a brew. She glared at the rocker as she walked past it on her way to the scullery, and for a joyful moment she imagined herself chopping it up for firewood and using it on the fire. Oh how she wished!

  She sat down in front of the fire with her brew and warmed her hands on the hot mug. She felt quite angry at Anton’s reaction, even after taking into account that he would be shattered from his journey home. She appreciated that she’d wakened him suddenly from a deep sleep, from which he would normally be hard to resurrect at the best of times, but what if they’d had a burglar? Would he have said the same things to her then, just because he’d been wakened from his slumber? And more importantly, would she ever feel safe again knowing that he wouldn’t react in a responsible manner if for any reason she had to wake him up suddenly? And as her thoughts began to travel again at great speed, they were rudely interrupted by the sound of a cat mewing.

  She put her drink down quietly on the fireplace and slowly tiptoed towards the hall from where the sound was coming. She stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw next. The faint outline of a ginger and white cat was strolling nonchalantly across the hall, before disappearing through the cupboard door – which was closed – under the stairs. It was a spine-chilling experience and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She wasn’t afraid of a cat, dead or alive, but seeing it going back through the cupboard door and no doubt into its box freaked her out. It all seemed so surreal. Did the cat belong to that old woman, she speculated? Was the old woman a witch? She’d often suspected it – and a dead cat as her accomplice did rather fit the bill.

  But it was all constantly preying on her mind, and the worry of it was making her feel overstressed. She didn’t want to share it alone and why should she? It was never her idea to buy Juniper. The house oozed creepiness and bad vibes, and she could sense it strongly. She hurried back upstairs and jumped into bed. Anton was by now dead to the world and snoring, clearly unaware of what was happening whilst he slept. She pulled herself close to him, wrapped both arms around his waist and snuggled into his warm body. She felt him stiffen in his sleep as his warm body reacted to her cold one. Right now she didn’t care about the things he’d said, or what he might think of her the next day, she just needed to know he was there and she wasn’t alone.

  12

  The week-end seemed to come quickly, much to Lucy’s relief. Anton was supposed to have had a few days off when he returned from being away during the week, but he’d decided to go to work instead. Lucy was puzzled, because she’d taken the time off her own little job so they could spend a few days together to make up for the long absence, so she was feeling pretty miffed that she’d spent the remaining week alone again. He had been very subdued ever since the ‘cat’ saga and she was not too happy about that either. She still felt that she was in the right and that he was being unreasonable – especially if he had got the sulks because of it. After all, she was the one who’d been most disturbed. What did he know about it anyway – he’d just slept thro
ugh it and left her to it! From then on he’d hardly spoken to her at all, he just grunted whenever she tried to talk to him, and when they were in bed he turned his back on her. Lucy was feeling dejected again. If anyone had ever told her that they would have a minor tiff which would lead to such an emotional and upsetting rift between them, she wouldn’t have believed it. Up to now they had always been inseparable. Would this have happened if he’d never gone away? She had no idea, but one thing she did know: it wouldn’t have happened if they’d never clapped eyes on Juniper House.

  She still hadn’t managed to psyche herself up to give him the bad news about the house being haunted. And as time was moving on, it was becoming even harder still. She really wanted him to open up that sealed door, because she had a strong feeling that it held the clue to what was going on. She knew that it wasn’t one of his priorities, and he was leaving it until the more important jobs were done. But it was important to Lucy – if only she could get round to telling him.

  Lucy woke up the next morning and rubbed her eyes. She turned to snuggle up to Anton but soon realised he wasn’t there. She sat up in bed abruptly. She glanced at her bedside radio and saw the time was eight o’clock. It was Saturday morning and Anton must have been up at the crack of dawn, because his side of the bed was cold.

  She got washed and dressed, tidied up the bedroom and went downstairs to be greeted by the appetising smell of bacon wafting through the air. Anton had lit the fire and the range, and everything was looking clean, tidy and welcoming. The old rocker was in front of the sitting room fire, the table was set for breakfast and Lucy was relieved that he was back to normal – at least she thought he was.