The Dead Summer

by Helen Moorhouse

  The child’s screaming grew more wretched and Ruby’s own wails louder. Martha was almost deafened by the cries of the children and the scrabbling from the wall. She couldn’t bear it.

  “Leave him alone!” she screamed at the shape.

  The figure was immediately still, its hands still raised to the wall as if frozen in mid-action. Suddenly it was facing Martha. She hadn’t seen it move but it was instantly in the new position. Its hands were by its sides and Martha stared at it again, registering the hideous, emotionless eyes, breathing in the terrible stench.

  She realised suddenly that the figure wasn’t stationary, but drifting toward her, floating with barely any discernible movement. It was getting closer and closer. “What have you done?” it bellowed – the mouth again out of synch with the words, the voice loud and booming this time. It sounded like it had an echo to Martha, or worse still, like it was made up of two voices at once, coming from inside a tunnel. Martha had never heard anything like it. All she could do was stare, seeing for the first time the inside of the phantom’s mouth with dirty, broken and rotted teeth, the tongue black as though it had eaten coal, or liquorice.

  Ruby screamed again and it brought Martha back to her senses. She pressed Ruby’s head into her shoulder and turned and ran from the room, feeling the presence of the entity behind her, just an arm’s reach away. Panic rose in Martha, her breath coming in gasps.

  The landing was flooded with light from her bedroom which reached the first three or four steps of the stairs but she knew that once she got past the turn in the stair that she would be descending into pitch blackness. She forged ahead, terrified by the prospect of the darkness, even more terrified by the thing that she could feel gaining ground behind her.

  An involuntary shudder ran up her back. It’s going to touch me, she thought. She screamed again, a proper scream from the base of her throat, couldn’t dare to look back for fear of tripping on the stair yet aware with a million senses that she was about to be touched . . .

  Suddenly the light in the hallway came on. Martha stopped on the stairs, momentarily blinded and confused . . .

  Will! In her blind panic she had completely forgotten that he was there. The feeling that she would be grabbed was gone with the light, the child upstairs stopped crying and Ruby finally relaxed in her arms, her screams reduced to whimpers of incomprehension. Martha turned and looked up the stairs. It was all gone – the stench, the noise, the atmosphere – as if it had been sucked upward and away. She stood still and stared at the landing.

  Will made a thump as he tripped on the bottom step in his panic to reach her. “Martha, what’s going on?” he demanded, his breaths short, his voice urgent.

  She was transfixed by the landing, unable to tear her gaze away from where, seconds before, that awful thing had been. She was terrified it would suddenly reappear but couldn’t move except to point. “She . . . she . . .” Her words were barely audible.

  “What?” barked Will.

  Martha blinked and looked at him, as though trying to ascertain if he were real. “She was upstairs,” she said, her voice growing stronger and her brain trying to make sense of language to tell Will what had happened. “I think it was Mannion – it‘s a woman. She spoke to me . . .”

  Will didn’t reply. He dashed past Martha and up the stairs, pulling his BlackBerry out of his pocket as he did so. Martha watched him disappear into Ruby’s room and turned to make her way down the stairs.

  “Gabriel?” she heard him say. “Can you make your way out here? I think it’s time.”

  Martha made her way to the study, her sanctuary, and sank down onto the couch. Ruby sobbed quietly and Martha held her close, stroking her downy hair and muttering words of comfort. The little girl didn’t fall back to sleep but sat on Martha’s knee, wide-eyed and curious.

  At last she heard Will clatter down the stairs and tread down the hallway toward her. Relief flooded through her body when she saw his reassuring face. He came to sit beside her on the sofa.

  “Are you okay?” He placed his arm around Martha and gave her a squeeze, then leaned toward Ruby and lifted her face to his with a gentle finger under her chin. The baby studied him with her huge blue eyes and solemn face.

  “We’re fine,” said Martha, realising that her voice was trembling and that her legs felt like jelly.

  “What happened up there?”

  “Is she gone?” said Martha.

  “There was nothing up there that I could see,” replied Will gently.

  She told him as accurately as she could, the process slow as she sought the right words to describe what she had seen. Will listened without comment, nodding in encouragement when Martha struggled for words.

  “I could even smell her, Will. Couldn’t you see anything?”

  Will shook his head. “The screen to your room went completely blank on me. I thought it was technical but it seems now that it wasn’t. One minute you were there asleep and the next the screen went blank. The first I knew there was anything wrong was when I heard that lamp break and then you showed up in Ruby’s room, shouting at the wall. I’ll need to review the footage very carefully of course but nothing of what you’ve described has shown up on camera, just your reaction to it.”

  Martha closed her eyes, exhausted, and leant her head against Will’s comforting arm. They sat like this, barely speaking, for what could have been ten or fifteen minutes until there was a voice from the hallway, a heavy tread of footsteps.

  “Hallooo?” it called.

  Martha jumped.

  Will squeezed her arm. “It’s just Gabriel,” he said.

  Martha closed her eyes with gratitude. The more the merrier, she thought. As long as they have a pulse.

  “We’re in here, Gabriel,” replied Will and the heavy tread came down the corridor.

  Gabriel appeared at the door. “What’s happened here? You all look like you’ve seen a . . . not funny?”

  Will frowned at him. “How did you get here so fast?” he asked.

  “Taxi driver at the door was dropping off as I came out. Had to walk up from the road again, of course.”

  Gabriel sat and Martha ran through her story for a second time and Will his, adding in some phrases that she didn’t fully understand: references to ‘thermals’ and ‘K2s’. She did gather that the only thing that Will had noticed was that the temperature in the house as a whole had dropped dramatically just before all of this began.

  “What time is it?” she suddenly asked, aware that she hadn’t a clue.

  “It’s four in the morning, love,” said Gabriel kindly.

  Sure enough she could see a lightening in the sky and as Gabriel and Will chatted quietly between them she heard the first chirrup of the dawn chorus. She couldn’t wait for daylight.

  “Right then,” said Gabriel, standing up straight. “Time for me to see what I can do. Martha, I’ll need a hand from you.”

  A look of fear flashed across her face. “What do I have to do?” She didn’t want to see that thing again, or worse still, hear the screaming of the little boy.

  “Just hold my hand, that’s all,” said Gabriel.

  “What about Ruby,” said Martha. “Will – you’ll watch her, won’t you?”

  Will shook his head. “I can’t, I’ve got to monitor closely what Gabriel’s about to do.”

  “She’ll be safe in here,” said Gabriel. “William can assign one of his magic screens to her and we can make a wee nest for her on the floor out of cushions.”

  Gabriel reached out and rubbed Ruby’s hand. Ruby, in turn, grabbed his finger and studied his face intently. Martha found herself almost as shocked by this as by the rest of the night’s events.

  “Will, can’t you take her out to your car and watch her out there?” she pleaded.

  “It’s too cold out there, Martha,” he replied. “I can’t close the boot with the cables and it’s a hatchback. It might be July but it’s the middle of the night
– it wouldn’t be fair on her.”

  “But what if –”

  “She won’t come in here,” interrupted Gabriel. “I’m pretty sure this room didn’t exist when she lived here so it doesn’t exist for her now. I’ve picked up nothing from it – from her – any time I’ve been in here.”

  So that was why she always felt safe in here! Do you swear you’ll keep her on screen, Will?” begged Martha. “And if the screen goes blank you’ll go straight to her, no matter what?”

  “Cross my heart,” replied Will.

  Martha built Ruby a soft nest on the floor out of the cushions and the throw from the sofa. Gabriel retrieved some of her toys from the kitchen and even found a soother beside the steriliser which she rattled in her pudgy hand, watching the grown-ups fuss over her so intently. Martha was eventually satisfied that she couldn’t come to any harm – physically, at least, and laid her down on her back.

  “They can’t fall any further than the floor,” remarked Gabriel.

  Martha supposed it made sense and Ruby promptly waved her legs in the air and started to play with her feet through her babygro.

  “Come on,” urged Gabriel. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we get this over with.”

  Much as Will had led her reluctantly from Ruby’s room earlier, Gabriel led her from the study now and Martha shut the door behind her, unwillingly leaving her daughter for the second time that night.

  Once in the hallway, the door closed behind them, Gabriel took Martha by her hand and led her back upstairs. Once again she heard the front door close as Will slipped out to begin whatever it was he was going to do.

  Gabriel switched off the downstairs lights as they climbed, and Martha felt her anxiety build again. She allowed herself to be led to Ruby’s room and they stepped inside, Gabriel closing the door behind him and switching off the overhead light which Will must have switched on. Once again, the nightlight was the only illumination.

  Gabriel saw Martha glance at the shapes as they rotated around the walls. “I normally use a candle,” he said, “but these will do fine. Now hold my hands.”

  Martha nervously did as she was bidden, unsure exactly what she was doing.

  Gabriel stepped towards the bricked-up fireplace, guiding Martha with him. He grasped her hands firmly. “I want you to imagine a white light around you,” he said, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

  Martha looked at him as he did so and followed suit, imagining the white light protecting her, enclosing her body in a protective bubble as he instructed. She tried her hardest to focus but found it difficult to keep her thoughts in one place, distracted by the fact that Ruby was alone downstairs.

  Gabriel sensed this. “Try to concentrate, Martha,” he urged. “I know it’s difficult but do your best.”

  Martha shut her eyes, a pit of fear in her stomach, and concentrated on Gabriel’s hands squeezing hers. He continued to mutter some words that Martha could neither hear nor understand. She assumed it was an incantation of protection of some sort and trusted in Gabriel’s abilities to keep her safe.

  Finally, he fell silent and after a moment, cleared his throat and began to speak.

  “I would like to speak with Mrs Mannion, please,” he said clearly and concisely, as though communicating with someone who had a poor grasp of English.

  Martha almost giggled aloud with nerves at how strange it sounded.

  “Or is it Miss Mannion?” asked Gabriel.

  Martha jumped as a loud bang came from downstairs somewhere. Gabriel flinched as well and his eyes flickered open for a moment.

  “Is it . . .?” whispered Martha.

  “Ssssh!” he replied fiercely.

  Martha closed her eyes again and concentrated hard. Please don’t let that have been near Ruby, she prayed silently, fighting the instinctive urge to run.

  “Is that you making noise, Miss Mannion?” asked Gabriel again in his loud voice. “This isn’t your house any more, you know. Are you aware that you’ve passed over, Miss Mannion?”

  There was another loud bang, from upstairs this time, just outside the bedroom door. Martha jumped again, her eyes opening in panic to check the door to the room. There was nothing there.

  “You don’t belong here any more, Miss Mannion,” said Gabriel. “It’s time for you to move on, to cross over.”

  Martha felt the room go cold in an instant, the temperature dropping as it had downstairs in the kitchen before the spoon was knocked from her hand. She glanced around, terrified that she might see the awful spectre again but still there was nothing, just the room as it always was. She shivered involuntarily as it grew colder.

  “She’s here,” she whispered to Gabriel.

  He nodded, deep in concentration.

  “Henry, you’re here too, aren’t you, wee man?” he said in a gentler voice.

  Martha’s eyes grew wide in alarm. She was almost prepared to see again what she had seen earlier – at least she knew what to expect. But to see yet another spirit? And that of a child?

  “It’s alright, Henry, we’re here to help you,” said Gabriel. “Now can you think of someone that you want to see again the most? Your mummy, maybe?”

  Martha opened her mouth to speak to Gabriel. Why hadn’t she told him before what Lil Flynn had said, of her suspicion that this Mannion was his mother.

  Suddenly she became aware of a strange sensation behind her. There was a feeling of heat behind her legs, as though she were standing in front of a low heater. Then a slight tug on the hem of her pyjama top. She turned her head to look but there was nothing there that she could see in the dim light. She turned back to Gabriel, willing him to open his eyes and look at her so she didn’t feel so alone. She also wanted to see if he could see something behind her legs because she was suddenly sure that the warm feeling was Henry. She had an urge to turn and touch him, comfort him in some way. Her eyes filled with tears for him. If what she felt was Henry it reached only halfway up her thigh. She was a small woman – would that make him a very small child for nearly four?

  “You also, Miss Mannion,” said Gabriel. “I think you have done some evil in your time to this child, am I right? But there must be someone who has passed who will come for you?” Gabriel fell silent, waiting for a response.

  Martha was still aware of the strange sensation against her legs.

  Gabriel gripped her hands tighter. “Both of you, Henry and Miss Mannion, should see a light over by the door. That light is for you both. It’s growing now, ready to receive you – don’t be afraid of it. Henry, whoever you want to see the most will be there in that light for you and you’ll be safe and happy. No one will hurt you any more, wee pet. Now walk toward that light and don’t be scared.”

  Martha wondered if Gabriel could see the little soul because no sooner had he urged him to walk to the light than she felt the heat separate itself from her legs, felt no more the gentle tug on the back of her pyjamas. The sensation was sudden, and she turned, instinctively. “Henry . . .” she said, but realised it was too late. He was gone.

  “And you, Miss Mannion,” said Gabriel, “you must follow the boy. I pray that our Lord Jesus Christ, and God His Father can forgive you for what you have done in this life. I pray that you are truly sorry. Now don’t be afraid of the light –”

  He was cut short by the same feeling that Martha had experienced on the stairs, that they both now felt again. It was a feeling of everything being sucked from the room, out through the doorway. Into the light, Martha assumed.

  Gabriel looked up and scanned the room. “Oh,” he said, quietly and thoughtfully.

  “What’s up?”

  He still held her hands and looked all around him. “That didn’t feel . . . it was different, that’s all,” he said, his eyes continuing to scan the room, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Are they gone?” whispered Martha.

  Gabriel turned back to face her. “I suppose they are. There’s nothi
ng here any more so they must have crossed.”

  Martha could feel the temperature rising around her, except at the back of her legs where they were strangely chilly.

  Gabriel sighed, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. He bowed his head and Martha felt that she should do the same. They stood there for a few moments, heads lowered, until Gabriel released Martha’s hands gently.

  “All is done,” he said.

  Martha noticed him scanning the room again, as though checking for something. All of a sudden an overwhelming urge to cry came over her and she began to sob. Gabriel said nothing, just put his arms around her.

  Martha had no idea where the outburst of emotion came from. She didn’t think she had ever felt so sad – that poor little boy, snuggling into her legs. Had she imagined it? She didn’t think so. Suddenly she wanted to know what had happened to him there, what the story of his short life was and that of the dumpy woman dressed in black. What on earth had happened here that their spirits remained? Until now?

  Finally she forced the tears to stop and sniffed loudly before extricating herself from Gabriel’s embrace. “I’d better go to Ruby,” she said, her voice thick with tears.

  Gabriel nodded and she walked from the room, leaving him again looking around him.

  The sky had turned to full daylight as Martha made her way down the stairs. She walked down the hallway, opened the study door gently and her heart filled with relief and joy as she saw her daughter, safe and sound asleep in the nest that they had made for her. She padded over to the sofa and sat down on the cushionless base and stared at Ruby, her smooth brow, her pink cheeks flushed with sleep. At her fingers spread wide in a star shape, at her tiny blonde curls. She was overwhelmed with love and couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sleeping form of her child.

  Martha heard Gabriel tread down the stairs, and the front door open as Will let himself back in. They spoke to each other briefly in muffled voices and she heard them step lightly by and into the kitchen. One of them filled the kettle and Martha heard it click and gently start to boil. Just another morning, she thought, and was gripped with sudden tiredness. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment but opened them soon after, sensing another person in the room.