The Ghosts and Hauntings Collection

by Cat Knight

  In her flat, Lucy changed into comfortable clothes. She fixed herself tea and set the cup on the table before she opened the satchel. She knew what had to happen. She had to examine the books. She had to figure out why the ghost was tied to them.

  STEALING IS A CRIME

  The image suddenly appeared in her mind. Was it her imagination or had the spirit caught up with her? She looked over her shoulder.

  The flat was empty. She was alone.

  She willed her heart to slow before she pulled out the first book.

  Chapter Eight

  The first book was the paperback — THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. Lucy had read the novel once, years before, and while it was good, it was not modern. As she remembered, Dorian Gray had a painting that aged in his stead. In a lighter moment, she and Mia wondered why everyone didn’t have one of those. Better to let the portrait get all the wrinkles, right? Lucy knew more than one woman who would pay good quid to anyone who could create such a picture. She put the book aside.

  The second book was a copy of THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY. She certainly could see why Theodore might possess a novel about Michelangelo. Who wouldn’t aspire to paint the Sistine Chapel? Like the first book, this one showed signs of frequent reading.

  The third book was GIRL READING, a book Lucy had heard of but never read. Without thinking, she pulled up her laptop and did a search on the title.

  She read where the novel was comprised of seven sections, each section devoted to a woman’s portrait. According to the web site, the book was a riveting read.

  Lucy reminded herself to fit it into her reading schedule. Again, the book fit what she knew about Theodore.

  The last book wasn’t really a book. It was a sketchbook and it was filled with drawings, sketching’s of people and places. She recognized some of the landmarks. Who wouldn’t? But the faces were all different and strange. She knew none of them. Yet, the faces spoke to her, drew her attention in ways she hadn’t before considered. Men, women, boys, girls, the sketches were nonetheless filled with a certain emotion, a certain pathos. The artist had discovered something distinct in each face, and that distinctness spoke to her.

  How good was Theodore? She supposed he was as gifted as many young artists, but that didn’t mean much. The world was filled with competent, maybe more than competent artists.

  And many of them starved.

  STEALING IS A CRIME

  The words flashed through her head, and she blinked several times. Did that mean Theodore was close? Did it mean that he was there with her?

  Even as the thought passed through her mind, she spun and looked around the flat. It didn’t feel the same as the house. The lights hadn’t dimmed. There wasn’t any cold draft. No, she didn’t believe he had followed her home. It was her own mind, her own fear that had brought the words to the fore.

  She closed the sketchbook and left it on the table with the other three. The question wasn’t one of possession or rights. The question was how could she use the books to her advantage?

  She didn’t know, but she supposed Mia might have an answer. But not tonight. Lucy was tired, and her leg hurt from where the door slammed her. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

  Turning off the lights, she climbed into bed.

  THEY’RE NOT YOURS

  STEALING IS A CRIME

  PUNISHABLE BY…

  MY HOUSE MY RULES

  The words flashed again in her mind, and she shivered afresh. Without debate, she turned on a light. She wasn’t going to sleep in the dark, not this night. Her biggest hope was that she wouldn’t see the words etched on the back of her eyelids. If she did, she knew sleep would be fitful and short. Luckily, the message wasn’t burned into her retinas. She would decide what to do tomorrow, with Mia’s help.

  It was noon on the next day when she got the text from Ronnie. The water pipe upstairs had burst, which caused a short in the power. The power would be off until they could make certain there were no more leaks. When he said that one of the men had taken a tumble down the stairs the hair on Lucy’s arms stood up. The man was alright, he would probably have a few good bruises.

  On her lunch hour she met Ronnie at the house. Every fibre in her body protested as she stood in the doorway. But there were no loud bangs or freezing breezes or messages on walls, at least that she could see. And although her body rallied against it, she could hardly refuse to go into her own house.

  For some completely illogical reason she decided she was safer as part of a group, but the men avoided her eye as she walked through with Ronnie.

  He hinted that the men were talking about walking off the job because it was the unluckiest house they ever worked at. Back outside where she did feel more at ease, Lucy thought for a moment.

  “I’ll tell you what, knock off early and take them to the pub. My shout. And then why don’t you take a break from this house for a few days. You just need a change in your luck.”

  “Well, what would I do with the men?”

  “Isn’t there another house you can work on? If the men are thinking of walking off, that would put me back tremendously. And besides that, if they do walk off the job, the council might take a dim view of it.”

  Ronnie grunted, not pleased with the prospect. Lucy persisted.

  “A breather from the house might break their bad luck. What do you say, they might be in a better mood after a change of scenery?” Lucy pulled 30 quid from her purse. “Take them out for a drink on me and think on it.”

  Ronnie eyed the notes.

  “Go on Ronnie. I feel it’s the least I can do for the problems.”

  “I’ll let ‘em knock off early miss. I’ll give ‘em a break like you say, and we’ll be back on the job here in early next week. Any of em wants to quit, they’ll have to find another job.”

  He waved the money away.

  Lucy knew he was chewing over the possibility of losing the council contract.

  “I’m sure they just need a break. You know what they say about it being as good as a holiday. By next week I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  Lucy left Ronnie to it and went back to work.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “That must have been terrifying,” Mia said as she sipped her second cup of tea. “You were very brave and you’re fortunate to have escaped. I’m beginning to think that this spirit is not friendly.”

  No shit Sherlock. But Lucy didn’t say it out-loud. Instead she nodded and agreed.

  “Yes, very much less than friendly, but that’s just the beginning. How do I get it out of my house?”

  “Well, I’m not entirely sure. It seems this Theodore likes his current abode.”

  “I’m not compatible with Theodore. You’re the psychic here. How do I get rid of him?”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Lucy put the key in the door and hesitated. Going back in was not something she wanted to do, but she knew she must. Having Mia with her emboldened her. Hopefully Theodore would meet his match with Mia, but even so, she wasn’t looking forward to whatever Theodore might have planned.

  Or did he even plan? Perhaps he just reacted. Turning her head back toward Mia, she silently sought encouragement.

  “Go on Lucy, you can do it. We’ll do it together.”

  The house was dark and deadly quiet. Even though they had arrived in daylight hours, the weather had not deigned it to be sunny. And the gloom from outside, only accentuated the indoor shadows. The door clicked shut behind them, Lucy jumped, and started talking.

  “Before you do anything silly, if you hurt me you’ll never see the books again.” An icy breeze whipped around them and Lucy shivered.

  “I don’t have the books with me. But I know who you are. You’re Theodore, aren’t you? I saw your sketches, I thought them very good.” They waited, nothing happened. Lucy gulped away the lump in her throat. “I have a friend with me. Mia. She can help you. She’s good with… people… like you.”

  “Theodore” Mia said, “I’ve got a special skill, I help t
hose who need to cross over — would you like to do that?”

  The breeze picked up again whipping hair around their faces. It seemed, somehow, irate in its intensity, and Mia looked more disconcerted than Lucy liked. Mia began to speak. Her voice had an edge to it that Lucy hadn’t heard before. It sounded compelling and strong and determined, and she did something funny with her hands.

  “You need to cross over Theodore. You don’t belong here. This is the plane of the living. You have crossed into spirit. Look to the light. Enter your new plane from the light.”

  A crashing sound came from above. They looked up to see the words

  PUT THEM BACK. MY HOUSE MY RULES.

  At the same moment a volley of loud popping noises was followed by a shower of drywall screws flying at them, hitting them about the arms and shoulders and head.

  Shielding their faces, they ran for the door and pulled. A sheet of drywall fell to the ground and a plume of dust rose up.

  The last of the nails dropped to the floor. Shuddering noises came from Lucy’s throat and she looked to Mia. Mia’s face was drawn and pale.

  “He’s not going. No intention of it.” she whispered.

  Lucy tried the door again. It pulled and shuddered as she wrenched at it. But it remained stuck.

  Lucy licked her lips.

  “OK. Theodore. We get it. You don’t want to go. That’s right Mia isn’t it? Theodore doesn’t want to go and Theodore wants his books back.”

  Mia swallowed hard, “Yes, we know you want to stay. I won’t do it again.” Mia shouted.

  Lucy wondered what IT was, but now wasn’t the time to find out. Lucy’s nose tingled and she wiped at it. Mia stood back against the door and spoke loudly.

  “I get that you don’t like us and you think Lucy stole, but, hurting us will hurt you more. It’s just the rules. You’ll make it harder on yourself if and when you do want to cross.”

  The windows rattled and more dust billowed from the broken wall.

  “Mia, I don’t think that’s helping, he doesn’t seem all that rational.” Lucy took a deep breath and bellowed.

  “Like I said before. if you hurt me, or her – you won’t see them again. Let us out and I’ll bring them back.”

  The air stilled, the dust settled, the door fell open.

  “I think it’s clear that we can’t force him out. He’s too entrenched. But we might entice him.”

  “Do you think that could work? You said yourself that you never met one like this before.”

  “We could try an exorcist, but that makes for a messy business. It would be better if he left on his own. And he hasn’t actually killed anyone. It’s clear that he could have if he truly wanted.”

  “Are you saying he’s not all that bad?”

  “I suppose I am” Mia conceded. “None of the workmen were permanently damaged, and we did get out with our eyes intact in-spite of the flying nails.”

  “Well it’s not YOU that has to live in the house, and I’d wager my whole years income you wouldn’t want to share with him. He has to go.”

  “Of course, he has to go. It’s your house after-all. We just have to figure out how to move him out. He seems very worried about the stealing of his books and he wants them back. Perhaps you offer them, but only if he will leave.”

  “That’s brilliant, bloody brilliant!” Relief flooded Lucy’s face.

  “What is?”

  “Well, in a way, he’s stolen my house, hasn’t he? He seems to have a big dislike for thieves. And as you said – I’ll offer him a trade. I’ve got his books, he’s got my house. I return the books. He goes.”

  Mia folded her arms across her chest.

  “It’s not like he’s going to take the books and disappear. Once he’s got them he’ll have all the bargaining chips. Besides where would he leave to?”

  “You’re right, he has to have a place to go doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, that would be better.” Mia nodded.

  “Do you have anything in mind? You’ve probably got a lot better idea than me what a ghost would go for.”

  Mia chewed on her lip for a minute.

  “Well, how about ruins? Isn’t there a crumbling castle or manor house somewhere? I mean, what self-respecting ghost would turn down a castle to live in an attic? And if he got his books back into the bargain…”

  “I understand what you’re trying to say, but I’m fresh out of castles” The two sat staring into space for moment. “Hang on,” Lucy’s eyes lit up.

  Lucy spent a few minutes on her computer before she found what she was looking for.

  “I’m going to call Percy.”

  “Percy?! Why? It’s been nearly 2 years.”

  “Yes, I know, but he’s still with that Corrine bird I believe, and her family own just what we need.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Well, what did he say?

  “Of-course he was shocked. Wondered if I had a spare child I’d hidden from him. But when I finally got the story out, as embarrassing as it is, he roared laughing but, really, he was actually polite and nice enough. All things considered.”

  “So, is he still with her?”

  “Oh yes. They’re married now and spend half the year in Spain. I talked to her too. It was a bit awkward but he insisted it must be me that asked her if we could do it.”

  Mia’s face morphed to a grimace, but Lucy just smiled.

  “I wasn’t sure if they both wanted to have a laugh at my expense, but in the end, well, yes I did speak to her. After all, it is me that’s asking for the favour. And who better to inherit Theodore than Percy and Corrine?”

  “You don’t mean that?”

  “Only a little bit. But she was chuffed to think the old family castle might have its own ghost. She said she would be honoured to host him.”

  Mia shook her head “Only you Lucy, could pull that off. Wait till they meet him!”

  “Fortunately, the castle is dilapidated and the family doesn’t visit it anyway. But the point is, no one will disturb his stuff. He can live there worry free.”

  “So, it’s the perfect ruins for an unhappy spirit.” Mia smiled. “Let’s hope he goes for it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lucy carried the bag that held the books, Mia carried the ghost trap. Oliver looked solemn as Lucy handed him one book and the sketch pad. She held on to the other two books. The plan was laid, and about to be executed.

  It was Oliver’s job to hold the book and the sketches in ransom until Lucy and Mia had Theodore contained. They would show their good will by bringing back two of his items, but they would withhold the ones they hoped were the most precious.

  They stared at the front door to Lucy’s new house.

  “I do hope he goes for it” Lucy said picking at the quicks of her fingers. “I don’t suppose it’s going to get easier, but if I’m ever going to live here in safety or even peace, it has to be done.”

  “Maybe, we should think this over” said Oliver. “I don’t think it should just be the two of you.”

  “We can’t let our fears rule us,” Mia said. “We’re supposed to be here. He is not. And someone needs to keep the books safe out here. I’ll trade if you want Oliver, but I’ve had more experience with ghosts than you.”

  “Let’s just do it.”

  Lucy marched to the door and took out her key. To her surprise, the door opened all by itself. She paused, staring into the dark. Then, she squared her shoulders, pulled out her phone to start her torch app, and walked through the doorway even as a sudden, ice-cold blast hit her.

  Then, the door slammed shut, separating Lucy from Mia and Oliver. Lucy immediately turned and pulled at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried her key, but that was worthless also. She stood still, phone in hand as Mia shouted through the door.

  “It appears the spirit doesn’t want us in there.”

  “What should I do?” Lucy shouted back.

  “Exactly what we talked about.”

  “By myself?”<
br />
  “We’ll try to find a way in.”

  Lucy stared at the door as a chill ran up her spine. She hadn’t bargained for negotiating with a ghost on her own. Yet, the door wouldn’t open. What was she to do? Telling her hands to stop shaking, she marched down the hall to the kitchen.

  Nothing had changed since her last visit, with the exception of the flaming red message. It had disappeared and wasn’t there to remind her about whom owned the books or that she had committed a crime.

  She pushed on because she knew that if she were to stop, she would lose what little courage she possessed. Stopping at the bottom of the stairway and looking upwards Lucy felt a clammy sweat break out.

  As much to embolden herself as for any other reason she called out.

  “If you punish me – and you know what I mean — you’ll never get all the books back. If you want them we have to work things out.”

  Nothing happened. She let out a shuddering breath and clomped up the stairs, feeling a kind of bravery from her words and in the resolute sound of her boots. Something slammed above her, and she hesitated. What was the spirit doing? More worrying, what would it do? She knew deep in her heart that the spirit was capable of many things, most of them bad.

  The worst of it was, if Theodore was truly as irrational as she imagined, this might all go horribly wrong. She took one step backward on the steps with a thought to run, to break windows and tumble out to safety. But then her spine showed a bit of stiffness. Shutting her eyes tight for a moment she garnered the rest of her courage and opened them again. She fairly ran up the remaining steps.

  Her torch showed the source of the noise as the light swept over the pull-down ladder leading to the attic. Lucy had talked to Mia about where to encounter the ghost, and they both agreed, it had to be in the attic, where Theodore died. Lucy stopped before the ladder and shook. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Her insides twisted. What the bloody hell was she doing? This was completely bonkers!

  But she knew that no matter how insane this was, she was in it now. Only, it was never intended that she would be so alone in it though. Gripping the ladder railing, she started up. The attic was much like any other. A sloping roof, wooden floor, nothing much left except for an empty bookcase against one wall. Ronnie’s chaps had done a good job of cleaning out the room which somehow seemed scarier than ever.