“Please, Mammy!” came the voice from the wall.
“It’s alright, Henry, I’m right here,” said Martha, terrified. She stepped backwards, circling in the one spot in the middle of the room. “Stop it, Marion,” she said. “Now open the door like a good girl and let me go.”
There was another rumble from outside, closer now, a sonic echo lingering. Martha’s heart boomed as the moons and stars of Ruby’s lamp began to slowly circle the walls, casting their dim warmth. Dear God, no, thought Martha. Please, no.
“Marion,” she said, as sternly as she could manage. “Now stop it. This sort of behaviour isn’t going to bring Albie back.” She yelped as the bars of Ruby’s cot began to rattle fiercely. She didn’t know what she could achieve but if she could get a reaction from Marion then maybe she could keep her going, wear her out, sap her energy . . .
The scratching from behind her grew more insistent. Martha gasped aloud, a picture flashing across her brain of what was being repeated in there, time and time again.
“I know what you did to Henry, Marion,” said Martha.
The cot continued to judder, the rattling growing more violent. The legs began to move and it slid around an inch or so from its original position, making a scraping noise as it did. Martha stepped away from it.
“Did you smother him, Marion? Poor little Henry! He did nothing wrong, you know.”
Suddenly, a cushion from a chair flew upward into the air and was hurtled at Martha at huge speed. She turned to avoid it but it caught her square in the eye. “Ow!” she shouted and covered it with her hand. She could feel it sting and tears begin to form. She blinked frantically, needing to keep both eyes open but unable to with the pain.
“You stupid bitch!”‘ shouted Martha, unable to stop herself.
“Shuuut uuuup . . .” came the reply, a growling, rasping voice coming from mid-air, from everywhere in the room at the one time.
Martha whimpered.
“Go ‘way, Mannion!” came the little angry voice from the fireplace, through the persistent sobbing and scratching. “Leeme alone!”
Martha felt as though her heart would break, with sorrow for Henry; with fear for herself and with terror for Ruby. She couldn’t hear if her daughter was still crying or not – the rain on the roof was too loud, the echo of the ghostly voice still rattling in her ears, the cot now jumping for want of a better description, the bars shaking and trembling fiercely.
Martha suddenly felt exhausted. She began to cry, overwhelmed by what was happening to her. “Leave us alone, Marion, please!” she begged.
The response was a disembodied snarl, like an animal about to attack. Martha didn’t know what to do any more, was overcome with fear for her child.
Martha looked around her helplessly, saw the rosary beads that she had come back for on the chest of drawers and reached out a hand instinctively to grab them. She grasped them in her hand, willing them to give her the protection that Gabriel had intended for Ruby. Almost without thinking she wound them twice around her hand and pushed them down to her wrist where they hung like a loose bracelet. Henry’s sobs were growing in intensity, interspersed with gasps for breath. Dear God, no, thought Martha – he’s running out of air or strength.
“Just stop it, Marion!” she screamed. “Everyone in the village knows what you did to Henry and Lil – I made sure of that!” She would try anything now to make her stop.
In an instant everything went quiet. The cot ceased to rattle, the scratching stopped from the wall. It worked, thought Martha. It’s stopped, like being in the eye of a storm. She glanced around her and then took her chance, taking a step toward the door. She reached for the door handle and in the instant she did so, the entire room came alive around her as the storm began again. Henry screamed from the chimney-breast, an unnatural guttural scream of sheer terror and panic, as if he realised suddenly what was going to happen to him. The bars of the cot began to rattle more violently than before, the legs sliding from side to side, as though it was performing some ridiculous, unnatural dance. The lid flew from the nappy bin and skidded across the floor, the small side table where Martha placed the soothers flipped over and landed on its side with a violent thud. Martha raised her hands to her ears, unable to take in what she was experiencing. As she did so, another scream joined Henry’s, faint at first but growing in intensity, like two voices at once, three voices, ten voices.
Slowly, a black mist formed in front of Martha, becoming clearer and more distinct. It grew clearer from the legs up – the old-fashioned shoes, the legs, the tight skirt, the round-neck jumper and then the face that was barely a face at all, a huge open mouth emitting this scream from the depths of another time and place, a scream not for the horror that her son was experiencing, nor for the lives she had ruined, but a scream for herself. The eyes were tightly closed, the head itself thrown back.
Martha could barely look. Her heart boomed in her chest and she burst into tears again, whimpers coming from her mouth. She didn’t know what to do, had never thought it possible to feel such fear. She truly thought she might die of fright.
“Please, Jesus, this is too much,” she said in a whisper of disbelief, her hand clutching the tiny crucifix on the beads on her wrist, her brain trying frantically to process what was going on. “This is too much!”
Suddenly, through the screaming and the rattling and the noise from the rain, came a voice . . .
“Let me in, Martha. What’s going on in there?”
Gabriel.
A hammering came from the door. “Mrs Mannion!” he shouted. “I demand that in the name of Jesus and the Lord our God you leave this room now!” It was futile. The scream continued, the room continued to move.
“Gabriel!” shouted Martha. “Her name is Marion. I know all about her, what she did to Henry. She’s locked Ruby in the study – please keep her out of the study!”
“Ruby’s fine, Martha – now can you get this door open?” The door handle rattled as he tried to get in.
She tried to go to the door but could not. “I can’t move, Gabriel – it’s too much here,” she sobbed and sank to her knees, aware that help was literally inches away but yet so far.
“Marion!” shouted Gabriel in a commanding voice. “I demand in the Name of God that you step back. Step away, Marion. Leave this woman be!”
Amazingly, it worked. In an instant, the room fell silent again.
Martha stayed on the ground, sobbing with terror. This was what had happened before that scream. She hadn’t thought it could get any worse, but it had . . .
She was roused by the feeling of arms around her. Her instinct was to push them away. Her arms flailed wildly around her as fear grabbed her gut again and everything went blank with terror.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, punching out as hard as she could. Strong arms restrained her. The fact that there was heat coming from them made her look up. Gabriel was looking down at her, holding her arms at her side to prevent himself being punched.
“It’s okay, Martha, I’m here,” he said. She continued to struggle against him, her brain too traumatised to fully take it in. “I’m here,” he said sternly and she felt her arms grow still. Someone else was here. Gabriel. She was safe.
“She did this before, Gabriel,” she babbled, looking frantically around her. “Everything went still and then it got worse. Poor Henry . . .” she pointed at the chimney-breast.
“I know,” he said. “She blocked him from us this morning, made us think she’d gone but she hadn’t. And neither had he. I felt there was something wrong. She’s very strong, Martha, but we’ve got to be strong as well.”
“I know her story now,” she said, staggering slightly as Gabriel helped her to her feet. “She’s Henry’s mother but she never loved him. He loved Lil more. Ruby! Where’s Ruby, Gabriel? If Marion’s not here then she must be with Ruby!” She flung herself through the door and bounded down the stairs.
She ran alon
g the hallway, Gabriel close behind her. She dug the key out of her pocket, fumbling, her trembling fingers caught up in the lining.
“Hurry,” said Gabriel.
That made her panic even more. Gabriel was likely to know something of what was happening behind the closed door.
Ruby gave a sharp scream from inside the room and began to cry.
“She’s hurt her!” gasped Martha, and struggled to get the key into the keyhole. It refused to go. She had never felt her hands shake like this – it was like someone else had them and was moving them around, preventing her from what she needed to do.
“Let me!” urged Gabriel and grabbed the key from her hand, slotting it neatly into the lock and turning it. It gave a click and the door swung open.
“Ruby!” cried Martha and pushed her way past Gabriel into the room.
Marion was in there. The air was thick with the foul smell from her and Martha stopped dead in her tracks at seeing her. She was kneeling at Ruby’s head. The baby had been flipped onto her stomach, a position she hated. Marion’s hands were poised on either side of Ruby’s head, fingers spread, just about to grab her by the temples. Ruby was screaming with fright, her legs kicking and pushing against the ground, straining her little chest upward, pushing as hard as her arms would let her to lift her head and see what this horrible thing was.
Martha knew what Marion was about to do: what she used to do to Henry. She made a dive for her daughter and pulled her by the feet back toward her. Ruby screamed violently and Martha’s heart almost stopped. Then Ruby was in her arms and safe. She stepped backward out of the room and drew her child closer to her chest.
“It’s okay, Mummy’s here, it’s fine, darling,” she crooned, turning Ruby to face her and scanning her for any signs of harm.
“Marion, you have done your damage in this world – it’s time for you to go, and to let Henry go as well!” Gabriel boomed from inside the room.
Martha, backed against the stairs, glanced away from Ruby and over his shoulder. The spectre was there one second and gone the next, as she was so fond of doing. “Gabriel, be careful!”
“I know,” he growled in frustration. “Let’s try to get to Henry while we can.” He stormed off down the hall.
Martha wanted nothing more than to go out through the open front door – she could see her car outside, and another vehicle beside it – Will’s Volvo, she realised. She knew that Henry must be helped though, and it was safer to have Ruby with her. Where was Will? Was he outside, somehow watching this through one of his cameras? How could he do that? Realising that she was alone, she scurried after Gabriel, clutching Ruby to her for dear life.
There were no further signs of Marion on the stairway. Martha climbed as quickly as she could, terrified that somehow Marion would trip her or make her fall in some way. Ruby wasn’t even safe in her arms, she thought, but at least she was with her. The little girl was feeling the fear from her mother and looked up at her with frightened eyes, giving a little moan of apprehension.
Gabriel’s face was pressed against the blocked-up chimney when she entered the room behind him. Martha didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to see or hear anything more that was supernatural. She had been so close to getting away. Why had she gone upstairs to get the rosary beads? To think that she had put Ruby in mortal danger . . .
“Henry, love, are you there?” said Gabriel, ear pressed up against the wall. “My name is Gabriel and I’m here to help you but you have to listen to me, and we have to do this very quickly before the bad lady comes back, do you understand me?”
There was a silence at first, then a faint knock and a voice. “I want my mammy.”
Martha felt an indescribable sadness sweep over her.
“I know, wee man,” said Gabriel. “Now I want you to look around you. There should be a light somewhere, can you see it?”
Silence again. Then the small voice. “No. Where’s my mammy?” It was followed by a little weak sob.
Martha gasped. Gabriel didn’t know who it was that Henry wanted. “The woman he calls ‘Mammy’, Gabriel,” she said urgently, “she’s still alive –”
She was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.
“Come here to me, Henry. I’ll mind you,” it said.
Martha froze again. Marion, come back, trying to draw him toward her again, to block his little soul from ever getting peace. Martha’s back was to the door, Gabriel facing it. She saw the look of puzzlement on his face and turned fearfully to see what was happening.
“Come here, love,” said the voice. “Mammy’s here.”
Martha stared, Ruby clutched to her chest, silent now. There was no terrible smell, she noticed. And the woman in the doorway wasn’t Marion, but vaguely familiar to Martha. She was young, no older than her early twenties, she thought, slim, with dark hair and blue eyes. Like Marion, Martha could see her firmly but could still make out the hallway behind her. She was dressed in a green dress, her shoulder-length hair held back with a matching ribbon.
“Lily!” said Martha breathlessly.
But how could this be? She had spoken to Lil Flynn only earlier in the day.
The figure ignored her. “Come on now, Henry, before Marion comes back, love.”
The apparition’s gaze was fixed at a point behind Martha and it held its hand out in that direction. Martha noticed there was almost a glow from the hand that was extended and she followed it, turning her head slightly, taking in Gabriel looking to the same point. As Martha turned, she once again felt a warmth beside her, halfway up her thigh, a slight tug on the hem of her top. She could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw him standing there, shyly folding himself toward her legs, as if he were unsure of the person speaking to him. With brown hair, cut in a pudding-bowl style, a blue shirt and a pair of black shorts, barefoot, it was him. Henry.
Martha felt her knees sag underneath her. He was beautiful. A beautiful little boy, skinny and small, pale and sickly-looking. She had an urge to bend toward him and catch an arm around him, a longing to reassure him that he was safe now. She couldn’t, of course, but he looked so real – could she?
She felt no fear of him, nor of Lil at the doorway. In fact the room felt warm again after the freezing cold she’d experienced while Marion had been there. The feeling was the exact opposite to how she felt around the other spirit. It was peaceful and almost comforting.
Henry eyed Lil cautiously in the doorway.
“Come here, darling,” said Lil and crouched down, like any mother on seeing her child. She spread her arms out wide to receive him and Martha looked back to see a broad smile spread across the boy’s face, a smile that she saw on Ruby’s face first thing in the morning, the pure delight of a child as it sees its mother.
“Mammy!” the little boy said, joy in his voice.
Martha burst into tears and watched as the little spirit pelted across the room and was enveloped into Lil’s arms. Tears streamed down Martha’s face as she watched them embrace. Gabriel placed an arm against the small of her back. Martha sniffed loudly – it was almost like watching a film, she thought. Even Ruby was silently watching the scene unfold before her. She can see them too, thought Martha in amazement.
The room fell silent as they watched Lil press her face against Henry’s, wrapping him in a firm grasp. She closed her eyes and nuzzled against him, as a mother animal would her young. In turn, his skinny arms were wrapped around her neck and clasped together as if he would never let go. Gabriel gasped as though he could see something that Martha could not and they continued to stare as the vision before them grew fainter and fainter. After a moment, Lil and Henry were there no longer.
Martha and Gabriel stared in silence for a long time at the place where they had been, unable to find words.
It was Martha who broke the silence. “They’re really gone this time, aren’t they, Gabriel?” she said, eyes still fixed on the spot where the ghostly reunion had taken place.
; Gabriel nodded. “They are.”
“What about Marion?” whispered Martha, keeping her eyes on the doorway, mesmerised by what she had just seen, but terrified in case the older woman would come back.
Gabriel fell silent, as if listening for something around him. “I don’t know,” he whispered back. Martha turned to look at him, clasping Ruby tighter to her. “I think she’s still here, but I can’t sense where or what she’s doing.”
A look of alarm crossed Martha’s face. “Then let’s go, Gabriel – she hurt me earlier and I don’t want her to hurt Ruby – we don’t know what she’s capable of.” She could feel her stomach stinging where Marion had dragged her over the metal screw earlier and her mind flashed back to those ghostly grey hands, poised to close over Ruby’s temples. Panic formed in the pit of her stomach.
“I don’t think she can hurt us, Martha,” said Gabriel. “She’s still here, true – I can’t find her, but I know she’s terribly weak. She’s used up everything that she has. And more importantly, her reason for being here is gone . . . Henry’s gone.”
Martha charged over to the window and pulled up the blackout blind, allowing blessed light into the room. The storm had passed as suddenly as it had begun and blazing sunlight shone in through the little window, dimming the moons and stars on the walls, taking some of the fear away. Martha looked again at the room, as if checking to make sure that there was nothing there.
“If she’s here, Gabriel, then I want to go. I don’t want to be where she is, even if it’s only a hint of her.”
Gabriel nodded and stepped out of the room, closing his eyes and muttering to himself as he walked, as Martha had seen him do earlier that morning.
They walked toward the stairs, Martha scanning the landing, the doors leading off it for fear that the apparition was watching her from a shady doorway. There was nothing. They began their descent of the stairs.
“Why didn’t Will come in?” asked Martha, remembering that his car was parked outside.
“He’s not here,” said Gabriel, his voice subdued.
The Dead Summer Page 34