The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  He knew that in a month or two or three, the neighbours would talk, and he would have to end these little stops. That saddened him a bit, but it couldn’t be helped. He chased that thought from his mind and focused on the goodness of their meeting. Two lonely people finding a bit of joy in a short respite from the war.

  Eddie thought about taking Doris’s hand, something he had never done before, and he might have, had not the sirens started.

  “I suppose we should run to the underground,” Eddie said.

  “Why? We’re perfectly safe here in the basement,” Doris answered. “Besides, I hate being crammed together in the underground. I have this fear that bombs will seal it up, and we’ll all die there.”

  “That’s hardly possible,” Eddie said. “But I agree. This place is probably as safe as any.”

  They smiled thin smiles at each other as the dull thuds of the bombs marched toward them.

  Eddie noticed Doris’s eyes had opened quite wide, staring at nothing.

  They didn’t speak because listening was more important. Were the explosions getting nearer? Undoubtedly, they were.

  Both of them heard the progression. The question became one of proximity. Beatrice would be in the underground by now. Would a bomb land close?

  The explosion rocked the house and answered the question. They heard the rumble as half the house collapsed, destroying the wooden steps leading up from the basement and isolating them.

  Eddie’s ears rang, and dust filled his eyes. He blinked, and he thought he saw Doris across the table from him. Disoriented, he shook his head and reached across to take her hand. He thought she was saying something, but he couldn’t hear.

  He was still holding her hand when the next bomb crashed through the roof and the floor and landed two feet away from the table.

  Eddie looked dumbly at the bomb, wondering why it didn’t explode. Still moments filled the basement, he heard Doris cough.

  “It’s a dud, Doris it’s a dud! Doris it’s not going to explode!”

  A certain joy raced through his heart. He and Doris had escaped an explosion by sheer, dumb luck. Some stupid German had failed to seat the fuse properly or made some other mistake. Eddie wanted to laugh. He might have if his ears weren’t ringing and his eyes tearing.

  He squeezed Doris’s hand in appreciation. It was the last thing he ever did.

  The dud had broken the back of the already weakened house. With a sudden crash, the roof fell, and the upper floor collapsed. The debris stuck with such force that Eddie knew he was dying.

  For a moment, a brief moment, he thought he felt Doris squeeze his hand before she fell away with the rubble.

  Then, everything turned to black.

  Chapter One

  Harrow House

  Southwark

  London

  19th March 2017

  The din was constant. It rose from the jackhammers and backhoes and dump trucks that choked the street. It rose from the workers in their yellow hardhats and orange vests as they screamed at each other. Even without the din of the machinery, they couldn’t hear each other because of the ear protection they wore.

  Sure, ordinary voices were supposed to pierce the soundproofing, but if you asked the workers, they would tell you it was all rubbish. That’s why they spent their days screaming single words at each other instead of sentences.

  The din washed over Julia as she threaded her way around the barriers and down the sidewalk.

  She had no idea why the council had decided on this month to replace the sewer and water pipes running down the middle of the street. Perhaps, someone in the official line of toadies had heard of her grand venture and decided to throw a spanner into the works.

  That would be just like the council, dedicated to ruining life for thousands.

  She knew better, of course, but she was in a mood. Julia wasn’t nearly important enough to warrant any kind of consideration, good or ill. But if she had known the council plans she would have chosen somewhere else to open her studio.

  They were replacing the infrastructure because it was time. Every couple hundred years, things broke down.

  The council would post a sign and take a photo when it was finished, touting just how wonderful they were. And life would go on and around in the same old circle, never minding the

  disruption to the ordinary folk who were just trying to get a business off the ground.

  As she walked, she felt the sidewalk literally shake. That wasn’t all noise.

  It was the effect of multi-tonne trucks and equipment tromping along without a care in the world. She thought that if she stood still, the tremors would rise right up her body and make her teeth chatter. In her youth, she might have actually accepted that challenge. Today, she was older and she hoped wiser.

  Ahead stood her building, her studio.

  For a clammy moment, she wondered what damage was being done to the foundation by all the construction. Certainly, the vibrations couldn’t help. And if her foundation shook, what would that produce in her studio?

  The last thing she needed was some sort of interference. That would never do, not in a brand-new facility.

  Dashing up the steps, she paused and looked back over the ballet of men and machines. Well, ballet wasn’t exactly right. More like a Chinese fire drill. She passed into the building quickly.

  Walking into her newly created office space, Julia picked up the latest invoice and stared at it. She knew she didn’t have the funds to pay the entire amount, but she could put a bit toward the balance.

  That wouldn’t satisfy the electrician, but it might mollify him for a week or two, and a week or two was all Julia needed.

  The studio was booked for an entire day, and if she could collect quickly, the electrician’s bill and the plumber’s bill and the sound specialist’s bill would all be paid. Of course, that would leave her completely tapped out, but that wasn’t so bad—at least she had a roof over her head and food in the cupboard. And that was thanks to dear Alden.

  For the hundredth time since she had started the project, she thanked the stars for him. Alden was handsome, and amusing, but more than that, he was kind hearted and generous.

  Alden had saved her bacon more than once.

  In truth, if it weren’t for him, she’d have been out of business before she had managed to get started. When her business took off, Alden could strike out on his own, perhaps open his own brokering office and she would see him through the rough days, as he was seeing her through the rough days now.

  A scraping voice broke into her thoughts. Even with its nails on the blackboard edge, which did make it hard to listen to for long periods, it was normally placid and easy going, right now there was an unpleasant urgency in it.

  “Got a minute?”

  Julia looked up. Ears stood in the doorway. His real name wasn’t ‘Ears’. That was his nickname, something that described his uncanny ability to hear even the slightest flaw in a recording. Once heard, his skill with the mixer was rapidly able to vanquish a pesky squeak or squeal.

  Short, rotund, wearing the thickest glasses Julia had ever seen, Ears looked more munchkin than human being. Of course, Julia didn’t need to see his face. Ears wore the same uniform every day—black jeans and a plaid shirt. While the plaid shirt varied from day to day, Julia wasn’t so sure about the jeans.

  “What you got?” Julia asked.

  “A ghost.”

  “Ghost?”

  “Noise, something that shouldn’t be there but is.”

  “I know what a ghost is. You’re the mixer, fix it.”

  “That’s just it. Every time I do, the ghost moves.”

  “Moves?” Julia’s nose crinkled at him. “What do you mean it moves?”

  Ears arms shot up defensively. “I’m not lyin’ I’m not lyin.”

  “Show me.”

  Julia followed Ears to the recording studio, which was actually two rooms. There was the performance room with its mics and earphones and parapherna
lia needed to record and produce music, speeches, voice-overs, everything dealing with recorded sound.

  The other room was the mix room with its huge board where professionals like Ears laid down sound tracks and digitally erased hisses and noise and all sorts of sounds not wanted in the final recording.

  Julia had known Ears to spend hours isolating and removing those gremlin sounds that ninety-nine percent of the population couldn’t find even if they knew what to listen for. Ears was that thorough.

  Sometimes, his insistence on another ‘take’ made the artists huffy. Still, the artists knew Ears was always correct, and the final product would exceed specifications.

  Ears handed Julia a set of headphones. “Tell me what you hear.”

  Julia slipped on the earphones, and all other sounds disappeared. She was in her own deaf world.

  She watched as Ears touched some controls and looked at her. She concentrated for several seconds, but she heard nothing. Frowning and biting her lip she looked at Ears and shook her head.

  Ears frowned back and grabbed a second set of earphones. Slapping them on his head, he manipulated the controls again—and again.

  Julia watched as Ears fingers flew over the dials and manipulated them yet one more time. Then, she took off her earphones, and he did the same. His tongue clicked in a steady rhythm for few seconds. “I swear, Jules, there was a ghost right there.”

  “I believe you.” Julia said holding up a hand to him, as much to stop the annoying clicking, as to put him at ease. It’s a brand-new studio, there’s going to be hiccups we have to sort.”

  Ears clicked his tongue again, an agitated scowl covering his munchkin face. Julia hung her earphones back in their cradle. Ears was gripping his set as though they had wronged him. Reaching out, she took them from his hands and replaced them too.

  “Tell you what, next time you hear this ghost, make a copy and send it to me. And I mean that. Random ghosts will cost us big time.

  We’re charging a bagful of pounds because we promise the cleanest sound imaginable. OK? Just make sure if you hear it, you send it to me. Alright?”

  Ears nodded.

  “Maybe it’s my ears or headphones or something.”

  “Your ears are fine. The headphones probably are too. It’s just something we’ll fix on our shakedown recording this afternoon. Oh, I don’t have to remind you to keep this between you and me, do I?”

  “Like I said, maybe it’s all in my head. I sure don’t want to admit to that.” Ears laughed.

  Back in her office, Julia sucked on a mint, ignoring the anxiety rising in her mind. Although she had spent every day with the wiring crews, making sure all the lines were insulated just so and placed just so far apart, bleed was one of those things that couldn’t be tolerated because bleed was a ridiculously difficult thing to isolate and fix. There wasn’t an extra penny for repair. Who repaired a brand-new installation?

  Well, maybe the government because the government could never do anything right the first time. That was the result of selecting the lowest bidder. Julia hadn’t made that mistake. She had hired the tried and true, and she practically slept with them.

  How in the bloody hell…? She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t need to work herself into knots. At least, banishing it was the idea before Alden entered without knocking.

  “Yo ho,” Alden said as he plopped into a chair. “Are we all set?”

  Julia forced the smile she didn’t feel like giving.

  “Of course, Ears is running the final pre-test as we speak.”

  Alden smiled, and she loved his smile. It reminded her why she started seeing him in the first place. Something about it made her trust him.

  The smile was almost the only thing she remembered from their first meeting. That awful day in the park when she’d been in a state of shock.

  One day she had a job. Next nothing, nada, zip. She’d been a victim of no notice lay-offs and a small redundancy.

  On her way home, the rain and wind had blown in so fiercely it almost knocked her over. And it took her paisley umbrella. She had held on fiercely as it had blown inside out and watched helplessly as a huge gust tore it from her.

  Alden had approached her as she stood by the fountain, her tears mixing with the rain, her clothes utterly soaked, a crying mess.

  “My umbrella is big enough for two.” He had said, smiling and offering to see her home. And against all magazine-column advice, she said ‘Yes.’

  Julia’s smile grew real, as she remembered the day.

  Alden smiled back at her now, handing her a Frappuccino in a cardboard cup and she wrapped her hands around its warmth.

  “You’re a genius, you know that,” Alden said. “I’m so glad I pitched my tent with you. You’re gonna make us wealthy.”

  “So far there’s nothing but bills.”

  A niggling sensation caught her in the throat.

  “There’ll be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m convinced my pounds are well invested. Safer than the Bank of England.”

  Julia might have argued with him, but she didn’t want to share her anxiety. That was her burden, not his — at least until Ears bagged their ghost. “Are you going to stick around?” Julia asked.

  He shook his head. “Actually, I‘m only here for a minute.”

  He placed a bag from ‘Gourmet Burgers’ on the desk. Julia peeked in, it was haloumi and caramelised onion.

  Her favourite.

  “I know you won’t eat if I don’t feed you. But I’ve got to run, got a meeting soon. Don’t worry love, we’ll be scouting the dailies for manor houses in a month or two.”

  “A manor? Why not a castle?”

  “One step at a time, my lovely, one step at a time.”

  He bounced around her desk pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Then, she watched him grin his way out the door. She matched his smile until the door shut, and then a twitchy niggling sensation rose up her throat and into her nose. She sniffed at the tingle. If she couldn’t get that noise sorted she would be even deeper in the hole.

  The money coming in from that job tomorrow was critical. If the sound wasn’t clean, she was done. She knew it. Even Alden wouldn’t keep throwing money at an empty hole.

  Julia fought the urge to run into the studio and quiz Ears. That would make her look panicked, and she knew a leader didn’t spread panic. Real leaders assured the troops. Real leaders laughed at adversity. Real leaders always found the path around.

  God, how she wanted a real leader to walk through the door. Instead, after the shortest of knocks, Rattler entered.

  While Julia had no doubt that Rattler was from the United States, she was much less sure that he had been within a thousand miles of Texas. Cowboy boots and a Stetson hat did not make Rattler the real thing. And the name was pure hype.

  Julia doubted that Rattler had ever seen a snake, let alone a rattlesnake—although he did sport a rattlesnake tattoo on one arm.

  He was a thirty-something, smiling, twanging fake. But he could play bass guitar like no one Julia had ever heard, and that qualified him for all the work Julia could toss his way as a studio musician. It wasn’t much now, but with the talent she had on board and with hard work and her professionalism, she knew it would grow. She didn’t see where anyone was going to hire Rattler away from her for a tour. Rattler wasn’t that reliable. Yet, she knew hers wasn’t the only studio where he worked.

  “Nice digs,” Rattler said as he slid into as chair. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

  “Thanks, but you’re not due in the studio for another thirty minutes.”

  “Just wanted to get the feel of the place and maybe try a chord or two. Get warmed up for the gig. But Ears tossed me out.”

  “You know Ears. He’s superstitious. Nothing before its time.”

  “Yeah, so I thought I’d rest my dogs in here for a bit. You’re not kicking me out, are you?”

  “I have work, Rattle
r, work. You remember what that’s like?”

  “Don’t go righteous on me. I work. You like my work.”

  “I do. I admire it. But your work isn’t my work. Why don’t you help yourself to the tea… or coffee and head to the lounge?”

  “Tea is fine. I left coffee behind when I moved here.”

  “From Texas?”

  “Where else? I think I’m the only man in London who can do the two-step.”

  “Well, two-step out, if you don’t mind.”

  He stood, and she had to admit that in blue jeans and snakeskin boots, he did look authentic.

  “You gonna listen in?” Rattler asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Cause I’m feelin’ real good today. I’m thinkin’ this may be one of my best days ever.”

  At that moment, the building shook, the slightest of tremors but a real shake.

  Rattler looked quizzically at the walls. “Outside?” he asked.

  “Outside,” she answered.

  “Won’t affect anything, right?”

  “Nothing, trust me. It’s all good.”

  She watched him leave, and as the door closed, the smile fled her face. Julia put her fingers to her head and massaged her temple. What was she going to do if Ears couldn’t vanquish the ghost?

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The singer was early by almost thirty minutes, but Julia couldn’t blame her. Rates were expensive. If she could get a few minutes extra in for warm up, and not waste a minute paying for time not used in recording – well anyone would.

  And it behoved Julia to be professionally accommodating especially this early in her career.

  Julia shouldered her courage and led her in to the studio. She would sooner that the young lady had been on time. That would mean less opportunity for something to go wrong. If the walls shook or a noise broke through, or if all hell broke loose she would just have to cover for it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The young woman’s voice bellowed out in a throaty bluesy tone. She wasn’t anyone Julia would stand in line to see. But Julia wasn’t in the business as a critic. She was there to produce a recording the singer could sell. It was that simple.