by WR Armstrong
Mr Hargreaves, this is simply a process of elimination. An elderly lady has taken it upon herself to hang around the house. We’ve been told she fits your mother’s description.”
There followed another lengthy silence.
“Mr Hargreaves, are you still there?” Tim was finally forced to ask.
“Yes, I’m still here,” came the guarded reply.
“And?”
“The lady in question can’t be my mother Mr Christopher, because my mother is dead.”
Tim was too shocked to speak.
“She passed on within days of leaving “The Birches”. She’s dead and buried, Mr Christopher. I hope that answers your query. Goodbye.”
The line went dead. Tim sat in stunned silence. Dead, Mrs Hargreaves was dead, he thought numbly, so the woman pestering them couldn’t possibly be her. So who in God’s name was she?
“That’s terrible,” Michael said when Tim relayed the news to him. “The move was obviously too much for her.”
“That’s not all,” Tim went on. From the back pocket of his jeans he produced a crumpled old monochrome photograph. He held it out for his neighbour to see. “I found it when I was ripping out an old wall unit in the utility room.”
“That’s Mrs Hargreaves,” Michael said without hesitation.
“I guessed as much,” said Tim. “It is also a picture of the woman who’s been tormenting us since we first moved here.”
Michael looked from Tim to the picture, then back to Tim again. “How can that be?”
“You tell me. I’ve kept all this from Helen. It would freak her out. I’m worried Mike. I don’t believe in the hereafter, and all that goes with it, but neither can I explain any of what’s happened through rational logic. It appears that we, and I mean Helen, Adam and I, keep seeing a woman walking around who passed on weeks ago. And then there’s the other stuff...”
“What other stuff?” Michael asked.
Tim told him about the objects the old woman coerced Adam into bringing into the house. “A vase, figurines, ornamental junk,” Tim said.
Michael frowned. “I don’t want to spook you any more than you already are, Tim, but Mrs Hargreaves late husband owned a porcelain factory. Mrs Hargreaves was a fanatical collector of figurines and vases.”
Tim felt the blood drain from his face. “Anything else you want to tell me about the late Mrs Hargreaves?”
Michael ignored the question and said, “I think you might want to have a chat with my brother, Tim. Tell him what you’ve told me. You may be interested to hear what he has to say.”
“You think so?”
Michael nodded. “I know so.”
That night, Helen was woken by noises coming from downstairs. She nudged Tim awake.
“Someone is in the house,” she told him, keeping her voice low.
They got up and crept downstairs into the kitchen and through to the utility room, where they were alarmed to discover that the door leading outside was open.
“Stay here,” Tim instructed and went to investigate, only to return moments later with nothing to report.
Back in the kitchen Helen drew Tim’s attention to the hall. “Someone is in the front room,” she whispered.
Tim grabbed a carving knife from the kitchen drawer. “Just in case,” he said noticing the look of alarm on Helen’s face.
They made their way quietly along the hall with Tim leading the way. At the door to the front room they paused and listened, but heard nothing. Tim, still holding the knife, stepped forward, and pushed the door ajar. They entered the room to find Adam slumped against the wall, surrounded by countless porcelain figurines, vases and an array of other ornaments. Helen immediately rushed over to him, while Tim stared out through the big bay window, convinced he could see the old woman lurking outside in the darkness.
“Adam doesn’t remember anything about tonight, does he?” Helen asked Tim once Adam was safely returned to his bed.
“No,” Tim said, “And perhaps that’s just as well.”
“The old woman is making him do things against his will,” Helen said. “She’s exerting some kind of control over him. At this rate she’s going to scare us out of house, and home. What are we going to do, Tim?”
“I don’t know,” he said, but that wasn’t true for he had already decided on the course of action to take. He just didn’t want his wife to know.
xxxx
“She wants the house back.”
Tim regarded the vicar with shocked disbelief.
“Are you serious?” He looked across the table at Michael.
“Is he serious?”
Michael nodded his head. “Ben never ever jokes about such matters.”
They were in the drawing room at the vicarage. Michael had arranged the meeting between Tim and his brother following Tim’s revelations about the ever deteriorating situation at “The Birches”.
“She appears to be unable or unwilling to let go,” Benjamin was saying.
“Are you trying to tell me she is a ghost,” Tim asked; his sense of unease deepening.
“Based on what you and my brother have so far told me,” said Benjamin, “it would appear that the late Mrs Hargreaves spirit is not yet at peace.”
“Do you truly believe that?” Tim asked.
Benjamin considered the question carefully before answering. Finally, he said, “You have given me the facts, Tim, and in return I am giving you the only logical explanation available. It’s up to you to decide whether my evaluation is correct or not, and then act accordingly.”
Tim was silent for a long time, finding it virtually impossible to reconcile himself to the statement. He couldn’t argue with the summation because the evidence really did point to their uninvited visitor being Mrs Hargreaves, and if Mrs Hargreaves was dead, which according to her son, she was; then the visitor must be her ghost.
“The vases and the figurines,” Benjamin said, “suggest she is attempting to repossess the house. She appears to be moving her personal effects in, Tim, using your son as an unwitting collaborator. Children are psychically gifted to a high degree. Your son will be naturally receptive to the spirit’s suggestions and instructions. It seems she has gained his trust, or else made him too afraid to refuse.”
“But the objects we’re talking about are real,” Tim interrupted. “How can that possibly be?”
“Psychical manifestations,” Benjamin explained, “can appear to be very real. The spirit is exerting its will over you and your family, persuading you to believe in its existence in a physical sense. A lot depends on the spirit’s level of determination as to how successful it is in achieving its goal. What we have here Tim is an escalating battle of wills. The outcome will depend on whose will is stronger, yours or that of the spirit.”
“You’re saying, not only do spirits exist,” said Tim, “but they can also alter an individual’s perception of reality.”
Benjamin nodded. “I am indeed.”
Tim looked at Michael, who stared impassively.
“So what do you suggest we do to remedy the situation?” Tim asked the vicar.
“You have certain options available to you,” he replied. “You can leave “The Birches” and allow the spirit to reclaim the house, or you can simply live with the situation and deal with events as they unfold. In other words, treat the spirit as an unwanted guest.”
“Impossible,” Tim interjected.
“Or,” Benjamin continued unabashed, “You can fight to regain full ownership of the house.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Tim asked sceptically, whilst struggling to make sense of all he was hearing.
“You either hold a séance,” Benjamin said, “or you call in a holy person to perform an exorcism.”
Tim felt his jaw drop. He was beginning to feel genuinely afraid for himself and his family.
“Which avenue would you chose?” he asked looking at both men in turn, unable to make a decision for himself.
“The latter two options a
re fraught with a certain element of danger,” said the vicar. “Things can go wrong.”
“In what way?”
“Should the spirit be angered by the process, and manages to exert its will,” Benjamin explained, “Things can get pretty hairy.”
“You have personal experience of this?” Tim asked.
Benjamin shook his head.
“Who do you know that does?”
“I would have to consult with my colleagues,” Benjamin admitted. “Genuine paranormal activity is extremely rare. What I do know is that your spirit is unable to gain access to your house, due to the death of its physical self taking place elsewhere. This fact gives you and your family an advantage. It is also why the spirit is using your son as an agent. A word of warning; under no circumstances invite the spirit into the house itself, as that will allow it to gain full possession of the property.”
“Are we in immediate danger?” Tim asked.
The brothers glanced at each other.
“Depends,” said Benjamin.
“Upon what?” asked Tim.
“Upon what kind of person Mrs Hargreaves was in life.”
Tim looked from Benjamin to Michael. “Do we know?” he asked feeling a sudden unexplained rush of apprehension.
Michael spoke. “Mrs Hargreaves went through a particularly bad spell not long after she moved into “The Birches”. She was pregnant and gave birth to twin boys, but the experience brought on mental collapse, which resulted in a terrible tragedy.” Michael glanced nervously over at his brother who continued with the account. “There’s no easy way to say this,” the vicar began. “As Michael rightly said, Mrs Hargreaves suffered a breakdown, which led her to conclude that her twin boys were possessed by