The Haunting Page 8

  Luke bridled,

  ‘That woman, as you call her, happens to be my wife and my wonderful brother was trying to rape her. He might even have killed her if I hadn’t stepped in.

  Seth became serious,

  ‘Customers will be in soon we have to move fast if you want to avoid the hangman. Get his feet; we’ll take him into the bakery.’

  Luke bent down and grabbed Tom’s ankles, lifting him bodily. There was a strange cracking sound as his legs were raised and Bethany shivered in horror. The spine had finally given way, and Tom was now in two halves, joined by skin and as Seth grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted, the body collapsed in the middle. It was a sickening sight, and Luke retched, fearing he might be sick over his dead brother to add insult to his crime.

  Between them, they dragged Tom to the bakery and laid him on the floor. Seth ordered Luke to put more wood on the fire; he wanted it roaring hot. When the oven was glowing almost white through the door, Seth lifted his dead son by the shoulders and steered him into the oven, head first. The smell hit Luke like a charging bullock, and he reeled away. Seth shouted at him to lift Tom’s legs quickly before the body only half burned and the remains dropped to the floor. Luke pushed on Tom’s boots, and the body began to disappear into the oven. The clothes caught fire and hair burned off the head immediately. When the boots were finally inside Seth slammed the iron door shut and latched it in place.

  They both sat on their haunches leaning against the wall staring at the oven door. Luke half expected it to burst open, and an angry Tom come screaming out at him bathed in fire, but there was nothing except the crackling sound of his body being consumed by the inferno.

  Seth sat looking at the floor.

  ‘Smells like pork cooking.’ He said dispassionately.

  Luke was shocked, but before he could remonstrate with him, his father spoke again.

  ‘Tom went off to seek his fortune, left with a bit of money and said he would go to London. He went last night in the dark, heading South.’

  Luke nodded.

  ‘Your life depends on no one ever finding out the truth, so you’d better be sure about your wife. She must keep her trap shut now, or it’ll be the hangman’s noose for you. Don't think I'll stand by you either. If it comes out, I’ll be the first to condemn you. I helped you cover it up, but I want nothing else to do with it. I need you here to work not swinging on yon gallows over the road.

  Chapter 14

  Sebastian stood at the door of his new home as the delivery van pulled into the yard. It contained the beginnings of his new life, and he was eager to get it all inside. There was still plenty of work to complete in the house, he guessed it would take months if not years to finally complete, but the one thing he had was plenty of time.

  He supervised the unloading as the items were brought in. The two men had a struggle with the bed. The stairs were narrow and had a right angled turn a little way up which made it difficult. The frame came in pieces, so that wasn’t too bad, but the mattress, well that was near impossible. The house had not been built to accommodate a queen size bed.

  With everything in place and the delivery men handed a generous tip, Sebastian plonked himself down on the new settee in his living room. He surveyed the room and was already planning wall hangings and pieces of bric a brac which he would acquire on many enjoyable trips to the surrounding villages and towns.

  Upstairs, he made up the bed with sheets and blankets which had arrived in the same van. Sitting on the bed, he laughed as he realised he had completely forgotten the window coverings. However, as he was the only resident of what had once been the thriving village of Lower Marston, it was of no immediate concern.

  By the time he was reasonably happy with the placement of his new furnishings, it was late afternoon. The only disappointment had been the no show from Briony. He had told her when the van was due and had asked her to call by and help, but apparently, something more important had occupied her time. He locked the door and climbed into the car with the thought that by this time tomorrow he wouldn’t be going anywhere, he would already be home.

  Cruising into Upper Marston and heading for the inn he had his eyes peeled for any sign of Briony, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had dinner alone, as usual, but was comforted by the fact that most of his meals would be spent with only himself for company. He wasn’t too concerned, after all, this was what he wanted. To be left alone in peace and quiet. Except that is for Briony, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Just the two of them, yes, that would be perfect.

  The following morning, he settled his account at the pub and putting his suitcase in the boot drove out of Upper Marston towards his new home. Once again, he went slowly, eyes concentrating on the hedge at the side of the road, surely, he would see her soon?

  But she wasn’t there, and he was soon turning to pull into the bakery yard. The sun was shining brightly, and he considered it a fortuitous sign as he lugged the suitcase containing most of his clothes through the door into the kitchen. Plugging in the new coffee maker and setting it to work he sat at the kitchen table to make a priority list of things he had to accomplish that day. His eyes were drawn to a stain next to the table, and he silently cursed as he had scrubbed the old flagstones meticulously leaving them clean, but still retaining the beautiful patina from years of wear. He rubbed his fingers over the stain wondering how he had missed it, but when he lifted his hand up the tips of his fingers were wet with a red liquid. He sniffed them thinking it must be paint. But the coppery smell made him pull his hand away quickly. It was blood.

  Sebastian made for the sink where he washed his fingers, shaking now at the realisation the blood must have come from some animal. But how?

  He went back to the stain and studied it carefully. It now appeared to be dry, in fact, it looked as though it had been there for a very long time. He reached out his hand again to brush over it lightly and checking the ends of his fingers saw nothing. No blood this time, what on earth was going on?

  The coffee machine was making its welcoming noises, and he made himself a strong cup, returning to sit at the table and study the mysterious stain again. It wasn’t there. He looked closely at the whole floor around the table, nothing. Scratching his head, he checked the entire kitchen floor, but there were no stains, everything was as he had left it after cleaning the flagstones the other day.

  Sebastian sipped his coffee, trying to put a logical explanation to the stain and the blood. Yes, the blood. He hurried over to the sink, but there was no trace it. If it had been real, he had washed it away. He began to think he might have nodded off at the table waiting for the coffee machine to do its thing and had been daydreaming. Maybe the whole thing was a figment of his imagination?

  Deep in thought, he failed to notice the wispy dark shadow at the door. Before he could look up, it turned into smoke and disappeared. He wrinkled his nose when he smelled burning. But it was more like a long dead fire, and he smiled to himself as he realised it was probably the smell of the old chimney in the kitchen. He had cleaned the old range, reluctant to part with such a beautiful old object and besides it would make an excellent source of heat with the door open onto blazing logs.

  The tendrils of dark smoke, having passed silently under the kitchen door, reformed into a vaguely human shape and moved quietly across the yard to the bakery door. The door was open, even though Sebastian had taken great care to ensure it was firmly closed earlier on. The smoky figure passed through the doorway before again changing form into wisps of dirty grey smoke and entering the old oven. As the last piece of smoke passed through, the door moved of its own accord and slammed shut, the latch dropping into place to secure it. A deep sigh came from within the oven, or was it merely the wind in the chimney?

  Sebastian wearily climbed the stairs to his new bedroom and was grateful he had made up the bed yesterday. He felt drained and could hardly keep his eyes open, not bothering to change into night attire and folding the duvet back; he climbed in. Kicking
his shoes off with a final effort, he fell at once into a deep sleep.

  It was not a restful sleep, however. Dreams were vivid and bordered on reality. It was the same room, but there the similarity ended. The bed was lumpy and narrow and the room dingy. It was cold, and the window was like his own but uncurtained and filthy with dust and cobwebs. Sebastian was aware he was not alone in the bed either. Nestled up against him was the warm naked body of a young girl and from the dim light of the half moon, he was impressed by her beauty.

  He lay on his back looking at the ceiling wondering why it appeared to be covered in hessian sacking instead of freshly painted plaster when he was startled by a loud knock at the door. A gruff voice shouted out, only marginally muted by the door,

  ‘Get up you lazy sod! Just because you have a wife now don’t mean you can shirk your work, the bread won’t bake itself!’

  Sebastian struggled out of bed, where had his clothes gone? He could have sworn he had climbed into bed fully clothed, but now stood in the dim moonlight naked and cold. Looking down at the slumbering form of the young woman he felt suddenly warmer. Sebastian knew he loved this girl, whoever she was. The feelings were so strong his heart fluttered in reaction.

  Fumbling about he found clothes which he supposed must be his and put them on. They were none too smart and certainly not very clean. He looked for socks, but there were none to be found. He pulled on a pair of rough leather boots, shocked at their weight. He could hardly lift his feet, and on taking one of them off, he saw the reason why. They were old fashioned hob-nailed boots. Rows of nails lined the soles and heels, and they felt very unforgiving, he guessed he would have a multitude of blisters later. But as he walked across the floor he found them surprisingly comfortable. In his dream, he must have feet made from leather to match the boots.

  Sebastian watched himself leave the room and head downstairs hearing the clump of the heavy boots on the treads.

  He became confused as the dream shifted and had him lying once again in bed beside the girl.

  A new figure now filled the doorway. It was an older man, and he stood staring at the bed. His eyes were fixed on the sleeping form of the girl, and he walked over to her reaching out but stopping short of actually touching her. Sebastian must have been invisible because the man appeared not to see him. The man gave an audible groan as he turned to leave. When the door closed behind him, the girl opened her eyes and turned over. She had been awake all the time and only pretending to be asleep. Sebastian looked into her eyes and pulled back in amazement, he knew her! He reached out to touch her, but his hand passed through, she was not real.

  He slept then, or had he been sleeping all the time? But there were no more visions, and he enjoyed a dreamless slumber.

  Sebastian now lay wide awake listening to the birds as the dawn chorus began in earnest. The daylight reflected off the freshly painted ceiling, shining through the clear glass of the window. He looked around and saw his new bed in the newly decorated room. It had all been a dream.

  He walked wearily downstairs and into the kitchen feeling as if he had not slept at all. The dream had been so real, unlike anything he had experienced before; then, in the kitchen, he was assailed by a strange smell. He sniffed the air while walking around the room. It seemed more pungent closer to the old fireplace, and suddenly he had it. It was the smell of pipe tobacco, very aromatic and not at all unpleasant. He wondered where it came from and opened the door to the yard to see if anyone was outside. The yard was empty, but he did notice the bakery door open again. No matter how many times he closed and latched it, the door was always open. He would have to get a padlock to secure it because obviously, the latch was not able to withstand even the gentlest of breezes, recalling that last night there had been hardly a trace of wind.

  Closing the door, he made for the coffee maker and pulled up one of the easy chairs he had bought closer to the fireplace. Even with no fire burning, it felt more comfortable. He guessed this would be his favourite room and decided to make the living room formal only. The kitchen would be his main living area, especially in the winter ahead. He could picture a log fire burning cheerfully in the range and made a mental note to source a good supply of cut logs ready for the cooler days to come. Even though he had organised central heating, there was nothing quite like an open fire.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. Sebastian arranged as much of the house as he could, working out the many jobs on his list in order to be in a better position to attack the most important ones.

  In the afternoon, a work van pulled into the yard bearing the markings of the phone company.

  The technician said a cheery hello as he walked passed Sebastian into the kitchen, asking where he would like the phone installed. Sebastian had decided on two locations, one in the kitchen and one in the main bedroom. The man carried his tools into the kitchen and began to work as Sebastian started the usual chore of making coffee. It seems that no tradesperson can work more than half an hour before requiring a cup of tea or coffee these days, Sebastian thought.

  The kitchen unit was soon in place, and Sebastian led the way upstairs to his bedroom for the extension. Once he had pointed out the spot where he wanted the bedside phone, he left the man to it, returning downstairs and out into the yard, meaning to secure that blasted bakery door. Sebastian collected his tools and approached the open door, fishing out a new hasp and padlock from his kit. Working on the door and concentrating hard he didn’t notice that the oven door was open. He was just about finished when he heard a high pitched scream coming from the house. He stopped and stood up, facing the house, wondering what could have happened.

  Before he could even take one step towards the kitchen door, a man bolted out. His face had a ghostly white pallor. The phone technician made it to his van in two or three long strides, jumping in, slamming the door shut and starting the engine in one smooth motion. Sebastian waved at him to attract his attention, but with a roar and wheels spinning on the gravelled yard the van sped away. He could hear the engine whining as the van disappeared into the distance.

  Scratching his head in wonder, Sebastian went into the kitchen and stared at the stairs.

  ‘Anyone up there?’ He shouted, suspecting that it might have been a woman’s scream he had heard.

  Hearing no reply, he cautiously climbed the stairs and approached his room. The door was wide open and glancing in he saw the technician’s tools laying all over the floor. His bag was also there together with a half fitted telephone lying at a crazy angle on the floor as if it had been flung there. Sebastian stepped into the room smartly and quickly looked behind the door. There was no one there; the room was quite empty. Strange, he thought. I wonder what happened?

  He used his mobile to call the phone company, but they had no idea what had happened to their technician. They became rather more concerned when Sebastian explained how he ran out of the house screaming and promised to send someone else to investigate and in any case, complete the job.

  Sebastian returned to the bakery door; the job was almost done, he had only to put on the new padlock. Clicking the new lock shut he stepped back to admire his handiwork thinking that at least the door should now remain firmly closed. He hadn’t yet decided what to do with the interior of the bakery but thought it would be a shame to demolish the oven. It was after all part of the history of the area, in fact, the last remaining part of Lower Marston. The area around the brick building was almost entirely overgrown with weeds and brambles, and he decided to begin clearing it so that at least he could see any future potential. The old red bricks had worn over the years, but together with the original lime mortar between the joints, they gave character to the building. As he worked to remove the vegetation, he day-dreamed that maybe it would make an excellent studio for his beloved piano. The Steinway had not seen the light of day for some time, packed away in storage. He reckoned that he would be able to work with the oven and retain it as a feature, might even use it to heat his new studio
. That would be a unique feature, and the more he thought about the idea, the more appealing it became.

  He was halfway to one side when another van pulled into the yard. It bore the same markings of the van being driven by the first man. Sebastian made his way over and introduced himself to the new phone technician. It turned out to be the manager himself, who assured him that the work would all be completed by the end of the day. Sebastian showed him upstairs, and the manager stood, scratching his head as he surveyed the mess in Sebastian’s bedroom. He gathered up the discarded phone and tools and set to work. Sebastian sat on the bed watching him, and the conversation turned as to why the other man had fled. The manager jokingly said the other technician did seem to be a bit on the ‘nervy’ side and that maybe he had scared himself because of the age and isolation of the place. Sebastian laughed and assured him he had not seen nor heard anything out of the ordinary since moving in and didn’t believe in ghosts anyway. The manager laughed and agreed that if there were such things, then the whole of the country must be crawling with them after hundreds of years of turbulent history.

  The phones were in and tested. Sebastian and the manager were sitting in the kitchen enjoying coffee when a mobile sounded. They both dived for their pockets and laughed as it proved to be the man’s telephone.

  His happy face turned sour as he listened to the person on the other end and saying a cursory ‘goodbye’ he put the phone back into his pocket before addressing Sebastian.

  ‘That was work; the police have been around to report one of our vans abandoned. It was Nathan’s, the guy who was here earlier. Apparently, the police found it in a ditch not far from here, but no sign of Nathan. I’d better go and take a look.’

  Sebastian suggested he follow in his car; he felt a measure of responsibility because Nathan had left in such a tearing hurry. Apparently, something had stirred him up.