The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  A mournful groaning sounded around the house and dust fell out into Anne’s hair as the defunct light fitting swung in the ceiling. Swallowing fear as best she could Anne stammered when she spoke. “I know you’ve been taking care of Vera. But I would like to help. Vera is cold. At night time, she only has candles and the fireplace for light. She can’t see very well and she can’t heat food up. If you let the workmen come in, then Vera can have the power back on and have running water too.”

  A wind whipped around Anne and the hairs on her neck stood high. Harriet was enveloping her in a mist. Anne summoned her courage and with a quavering voice stammered out “We can get proper locks on the door, so no unwanted people will be able to come in here. B-b-ut you have to let the workmen in for two weeks to get everything done. Otherwise this house will get torn down. W-w-hat will happen to you then, and to Vera’s mum and her nan?”

  The swirling light fitting above Anne’s head ceased and the dust began to settle.

  Anne licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her throat was parched. The shimmering light of Harriet changed from amber back to icy blue and formed the shape of young woman, in front of Anne. The letters OK formed in the air. Anne breathed in relief, and opened the door to leave, thinking, I hope she means that.

  EPILOGUE

  It had been eighteen months since the house was saved. Now fully renovated and decorated, it was perfectly liveable. And with all the land surrounding it, the value had increased significantly. Especially with the new shopping centre and apartments that had gone in.

  If Vincent Mallard wanted it, it would cost him a pretty penny. And Anne didn’t believe she would sell. Not for a long time, if ever. She’d lost her job of course. Pamela had seen to that and with Anne’s previous record of crossing ethical boundaries, she’d been able to argue that by taking on legal guardianship for Vera, who was a client, Anne had shown she was unfit for the profession of social work.

  It didn’t matter, Anne was happier than she had been in a long time. There was plenty of money and the days were full enough. There was always lots to do and she had good friends.

  Knocking on the new front door, Anne rat-tatted out a cheery beat.

  “Vera, it’s just me. I’ve got your burger.”

  Vera was sitting on her new couch chatting to Harriet.

  Anne took the burger through to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  Pulling open the lower cupboard, she fed the mouse and then reached up to the tea bags, ignoring the bottles of untouched medications shoved to the back. Harriet had been extremely well behaved since Anne had moved in. In fact, she was a changed ghost ever since she’d had that chat to her about how nice the place would be after the workmen had finished doing it up. There had not even been a ‘Boo’. Anne laughed at her own silly joke.

  But it was true, they had gotten rid of Boo and Porgie. The house was extremely unpleasant for them and they were glad to leave, even if they had to wander, one day they would wind up in hell if they weren’t there already.

  Carrying a tray with teapot and cups into the sitting room with an exasperated sigh she glared toward the front door because there was a loud, untuneful, insistent knocking coming from the other side of it. It would be best to ignore it, since she didn’t feel like dealing with nosy uninvited visitors. Besides she already knew who it was. After discovering how Pamela had tried to get the house demolished, there was no trusting the woman. It irked Anne to no end that she kept popping in. ‘Just checking to see if you need anything.’ Was the excuse she always gave. The knock came louder.

  “Oh, I suppose we’ll have to suffer her.” Her lips pursed together in exasperation.

  “I suppose so.” Vera concurred.

  “Come in, its open.”

  At Anne’s invite Pamela pushed the door open and said in her fake friendly tone

  “How are things going, Anne?”

  Someone stepped in beside Pamela. A young man, all smiles.

  “This is Craig, I wanted you to meet him. He’s our new recruit.” She smiled sweetly. “How long is it since Vera’s been gone, Anne?”

  Anne’s faced morphed into an ‘are you all there?’ expression, and she sighed.

  “Pamela. I’ll tell you again, Vera is not gone. In fact I just made tea for us.”

  “Try to remember Anne, you know she passed away a year ago. We buried her. Maybe you should see someone? Are you taking your pills?”

  Anne heard her whisper to the new comer, “I’ll bet she’s not, I’ll check the bottles.”

  Turning her back to them, she poured tea, she wasn’t going to offer them any. Ignoring people like this was the best policy. Voices chatted around her and she answered in a whisper.

  “Oh, don’t worry, we’re all safe. They’re just visiting. No. Don’t do that. They won’t take me away. NO. NO. Don’t do that. Just let them leave.”

  THE END

  THE HAUNTING OF FAIRVIEW HOUSE

  CAT KNIGHT

  ©Copyright 2017

  All Rights Reserved

  Prologue

  5th May 1991

  Fairview House

  Coggeshall

  Essex

  Maggie Jackson was waiting for her daddy. Mrs Lovell the housekeeper had already given her tea but daddy was late again. And it was already past seven o’clock. Mrs Lovell told her what time it was ages ago. Mrs Lovell liked to leave by seven because she had her own home and her own husband. If daddy was late then Mrs Lovell had to wait and keep Maggie company.

  The front door clicked, daddy was home. She heard Mrs Lovell and daddy arguing. “That poor child Dean. Isn’t enough that she’s lost her mother without her father turning into a right old drunk.”

  “Go on, get on home you with you. I’m alright. She’s alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Dean Jackson looked up from the bottom of the stairwell. There she was looking at him with those big accusing eyes.

  He could see her mother in him, and God forgive but he hated her for it. He walked past her and into the kitchen. His meal would be in the oven. Going to the cabinet he poured another drink. One more would see he slept well. He turned to retrieve his food.

  “DAMMIT MAGGIE.” Maggie had snuck down the stairs and poured his liquor down the sink.

  “Mrs Lovell says it’s the devils drink and you shouldn’t do it.”

  Deans faced flushed red from the neck up, and his eyes bulged in rage. He lunged at her but he missed and stumbled. Picking himself up off the floor he wobbled over to the stairwell. Her little face was full of resentment.

  She ran back up the stairs and stood at the balcony, watching him. “I hate you. I wish you were dead. I wish mummy was here and not you.” Maggie took off her shoes and threw them at him.

  Dean grabbed a hold of the railing and ascended the stairs. The child needed taking in hand.

  “Well Maggie,” Dean snarled “If you hadn’t run off, your mother would still be here and not lying dead in her grave. So, next time you get to thinking how you wish she weren’t dead, think on how you run away that day.”

  Maggie’s little face crushed in a ball. Hot tears fell from her eyes. She drew her foot back and kicked and kicked and kicked.

  “Cut it out you bleedin' ungrateful urchin. Cut it out I said.” Maggie flew at him harder and pounded him with her little fists. He swung her up and she caught him in the eye.

  “GET OFF OF ME.” Dean flung her from him and Maggie tumbled down the stairs.

  Chapter One

  27th June 2017

  Fairview House

  Coggeshall

  Essex

  “Sarah” Rick was yelling. “Wait on a minute.” Sarah had run up ahead of him and was already inserting the key to the front lock. Jogging up to the threshold, he scooped her up in a cradle and lifted her high for a moment and then down to rest his chest. This house was everything Sarah wanted, and although though Rick had loved the city, he loved making her happy more. Today was moving day and he wanted the
moment to be romantic and memorable.

  The price for this huge old house had been unbelievably good and he was still congratulating himself on it. Admittedly it needed some work but it was in fairly good repair, and the back yard was beyond anything an ordinary person could hope to have in London.

  The rear of house was built facing out toward to a running creek, deep enough to swim, in places, so the realtor assured them, and lush green slopes ran all the way from the back door down to the water. Stands of willow lined the banks and closer to the house were old fruit trees.

  A big old oak, with sturdy branches, would be perfect for a swing and a tree house.

  As Sarah had mentioned more than once. The perimeters `held unruly shrubs and straggling flower beds. Sarah’s voice had bubbled over excitedly assuring him that she could easily get the old garden going again, and finally, she had convinced him with talk of summers splashing in the cool waters, and lounging under the shade of the old trees.

  She wanted to preserve fruit, and then stroll through the quaint old village with its old stone structures and postcard scenery. And most of all she wanted children raised in a safe and happy village. The old house deserved its name Fairview House.

  If it was soppy to say that Sarah was Rick’s dream come true, he didn’t care.

  He’d taken a ribbing from his mates when they’d seen how smitten he was, but he planned to do everything in his power to make her dreams come true. He would fit a wire fence below the willows to keep her future children safe from the water, refurbish the kitchen and would commute fifty minutes each way into the city where he was partner in a bodybuilding and nutrition for fitness business, if it made her happy. They’d already painted most of the interior rooms any colour she wished. And he had to admit, the old place was shaping up.

  Rick’s dark brown eyes beamed as Sarah reached up from her position in his arms and kissed him. Her straight strawberry blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her light orange freckles that covered her face gave her, as Sarah’s mother said, the innocence of angels, but she had the spitfire of a devil when she wanted it.

  She grinned in a wide smile and her amber flecked eyes danced with mischief. Running her hands over his arms, she asked, which room should we christen first? He leaned in, kissed her, and carried her through.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The rooms were enormous, built in the days of large families.

  A house like this, especially once they had modernized the kitchens and the bathroom, would double its value over what they paid for it. The rooms were at least functional although seriously outdated.

  Sarah had plans to gut the kitchen, pulling out the old breakfast bench and making a more traditional breakfast area, by the window. Once they had installed a stainless-steel range and refrigerator, new cupboards and sink with dishwasher, a hanging wineglass shelf, a self-standing island, and overhead lighting, it would be ‘amazing’ Sarah had said. He didn’t even want to think about the bathrooms right now. The thought of it all, made Rick turn away to other rooms, at least for the moment. Pushing and pulling and arranging the furniture, he could manage. The living room windows were floor to ceiling and looked out toward the creek.

  Early mornings and evenings would be a symphony of frogs and birdsong; the realtor had said. A magical retreat from the city life they were used to.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “I guess we should start organising then?” Excitement flushed Sarah’s cheeks. She knew it was the right move, even though it had taken a lot of fast talking about property prices and locking in good interest rates while they could.

  “Prices are increasing all the time,” she’d told him, “and if we renovate the value will increase so much more. It’s a chance for us to get ahead of the game.” Sarah had delivered that message several times until Rick was convinced.

  Naturally, he had been hesitant because leaving the London life style would be hard for him, since that’s where he’d grown up and it was a busy pace. Sarah, on the other hand and lived in a number of different homes and now in this house, she felt like she was coming home. Raising a family here, in this little village and giving this house the love and care it deserved was what she wanted more than anything. It was big enough for two children with room to spare for Sarah to run her graphic design business from home. Rick could have an office and there would still be guest rooms.

  Sarah cracked her back. “Ohhh, I’m almost done in for the day.” At 160cm, and a medium build, even though she worked out with Rick, she had had enough for now. For the last twenty minutes, she had left Rick to move the furniture into various spaces while she hung some artwork to take the sparseness off

  the walls. When the lights were low they would help to provide a restful ambience.

  “I’m gonna to rustle up some food. OK?”

  “Righto.”

  Sarah heard the grit in his voice as Rick heaved the sofa around the walls again for the umpteenth time. She knew it was mildly annoying for him that she had to see each piece from every angle before she could decide where it would remain. But this was the final arrangement. Tall and muscular, he had no problem shifting things.

  But, it had been a long day and she guessed the seemingly endless task was getting old. He was probably looking forward to sitting down with a cold ale. Finally, Sarah called him from his tasks and they demolished a plate of only passable mac and cheese.

  Still it hit the spot and they finished it up. He washed it down with plenty of amber fluid while Sarah drank a shandy. After the washing up was done she pirouetted around and around the kitchen calling out “I’m home house. Can you hear me house? I’m home.”

  She grinned back at Rick and he gave her a happy crooked smile.

  Chapter Two

  Rick was dreaming of something he couldn’t recall when persistent noises began to wake him. Hunkering down under the covers and pulling them most of the way over his head, he fought off hearing them, seeking sleep. But gradually consciousness surfaced. Moonlight snuck in between the cracks in the old blind, and the air was chilled. Making a mental note to get the heating fixed ASAP, or buy some portable heat for the house, he turned his cobwebbed thoughts back to rest.

  In the comfort of the world between layers of sleep, and tired from the exertion of moving furniture dozens of times to exactly the right arrangement, it irked Rick that the sounds persisted. Mumbling incoherently, he rolled toward Sarah and snuggled in seeking the warmth of her body. His breathing became even and measured.

  Dreams ran in front of his eyes and he shifted reluctantly again. His hands went out to Sarah and collided with something soft. Pillows. Ricks hands searched around, Sarah was gone. He turned over and drifted off. She must be in the loo. Minutes passed, soft bumping noises were coming from above.

  What is that? Where’s Sarah got to? Reluctantly he unfolded the covers pulling on his jumper and socks to shield against the cold.

  Wandering down the hallway past the upstairs bathroom the persistent noises he had heard before sounded above him. She must be in the attic. He wished he loved this place as much as Sarah, but for some reason, that he couldn’t put his finger on, in the dead of night it gave him the creeps, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He quietly ascended the attic stairs and stood at the closed door. Whispers came from within. The hair on his arms stood on end. He listened closely. Sarah was whispering. Rick opened the door and, in the moonlight, Sarah was bent over in a corner, talking and coaxing.

  “Sarah? What’s going on? What are you doing?” Rick’s hand found the light switch at the same time, and the room flooded in a bright light. Sarah looked like a kid with her fingers in the biscuit tin and her hands flew to her eyes shielding against the glare.

  “Oh Rick, you scared me. I don’t know... I ahhh... must’ve been dreaming... sleepwalking?” Her voice was a hopeful question, yet her face was white and even though her eyes were adjusting, the pupils were large. Rick remained by the doorway, trying to assess the situation. The room would look
eerie even if it wasn’t the middle of the night.

  “If you were, then you must’ve been sleep climbing.” His eyes roved over the area. She had managed to traverse a pile of boxes, an upturned dollhouse and an open ladder jammed in between a bunch of old cardboard boxes.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Come-on out Sarah.” His voice had an edge to it, and she allowed him to lead her back to bed.

  “Sarah?”

  “Mmmmm...”

  “I swore you were talking to someone.”

  “No, of course not. Not unless I was talking in my sleep.”

  ‘I didn’t know you walked in your sleep....is this the first time?’

  “Oh...umm. No. I’ve done it before… long ago. Let’s go to sleep, I’m exhausted.” Rick gathered her in his arms and pulled her close.

  “Are you sure you are OK… Do you know you must’ve climbed over boxes and got around that ladder, and all those toys and things? How could you do that in your sleep?”

  “It’s cold. Rub my back?” Rick held her tight and rubbed her arms and back, and then enclosed her in a body hug.

  “Well no wonder you’re cold you’ve been wandering around in the middle of the night with just a nightie on.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Morning dawned too early. Sarah and Rick lay snuggled under the covers not wanting to toss a toe out.

  “I swear its colder in here than last night,” Sarah mumbled from under the warmth.

  Rick lifted off his covers, making sure Sarah stayed warm. Rick tucked the blankets close around her chin.

  “I’ll get the kettle going. Sarah? Did you go around opening windows in the night? Every window down here is open.” Taking a sharp breath and still clutching her covers Sarah sat upright. The corner of the curtains billowed in the wind.