Malevolent Hall 1666AD (19 page)

In the morning, Matilda awoke to find Mike gone.  She grabbed his pillow, and still smelling of his scent, she hugged it.  Nothing sexual had happened; they had just snuggled down together and slept.  Although he gave her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, she had to fight with every ounce of her self-control not to grab hold of him and kiss him properly.  She knew exactly what would have happened if she had.

Not that she would have minded, in fact she was beginning to become obsessed with the thought of sleeping with him.  Every time he came near her, her body responded accordingly, with hot pleasurable tingles that pulsated in every part of her body.

She sat up and swung her legs around.  Glancing down to her feet, she assessed the damage from last night.  Her injuries were not so severe in the light of day, but she still wondered what really happened.  She had to admit she was unsure if she was more scared at the thought of it being ghosts and demons, or some crazy man that had taken her.  Personally, she preferred to think she had slept walked as it made far more sense.

She stood and walked to the window.  The men were already working and she saw Mike talking to his crew.

She went downstairs, had a shower, and got dressed.

Matilda was just about to start making her breakfast when there was a knock at the door.  She hurried to open it.

“Morning,” Mike said.  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Much better, thanks again for last night, Mike,” she replied.

For a moment, he stared at her thinking about last night.  As he had lain next to her feeling her skin against his and inhaling her scent, he wanted to make love to her.  However, knowing it would have been wrong he curbed his urge.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked, reaching out and touching his arm, almost pleading for him to come in.

He picked up her need for him, and nodded.

“Sure that would be great, thanks,” he agreed, and he stomped his wet boots on the doormat as he came in.

“Where’s Parker?” she asked as, usually that dog was at his heels.

“Still asleep, the lazy mutt,” he replied.

“Too bad for him, he’s going to miss out on breakfast,” she said with a grin.

Mike followed her into the kitchen.  He washed his hands at in the sink.

She glanced at him as he took off his hard hat, and as he pulled off his sweater, it pulled his t-shirt up a little and she caught a brief glimpse of his tight stomach.  She rolled her eyes as her body ached to be closer to him.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Sure, you can do the eggs,” she said, passing him a frying pan.  He took it from her, and watched as she walked to the fridge.  Today she wore jeans, and they were tight against her body, showing off her perfect hourglass figure.  Her t-shirt was low cut and as she bent down to get the eggs from the bottom of the fridge, he caught a glimpse of her breasts, large and firm inside a red, lacy bra.

He closed his eyes, and with a deep breath, he turned away before she could see the effect she was having on him.

“Ah, there we are,” she said, grabbing them and the butter from the fridge.  She put the eggs on the counter and went back for the bacon and sausages.

“Do you want grilled tomatoes?” she asked.  He looked over his shoulder still not daring to turn around in case she saw, well, you know...

“Erm, yeah sure, if you have enough,” he said.  His eyes spotted an apron; he grabbed it and stuck it on.  There, problem solved.

She turned to walk back to the counter, and stopped as she saw him doing the apron up.

“Oh, you don’t mind do you, I’m a terribly messy cook,” he said in jest.

Matilda laughed, and shook her head.

“No, of course not, would you like a band for your hair?” she teased.

“Very funny,” he replied, pulling a face at her.  Matilda laughed and grabbed another apron from the kitchen drawer.

He glanced at her as he lifted up the hot plate on the Aga.

“I messy too!” she quipped.

“So where are the eggs then?” he asked, looking around.

“Over there,” she said, pointing.

“Erm no, no eggs on the worktop,” he replied

“What?” she responded, and she stared at the worktop.  “I could have sworn I put them there.  Are you sure you didn’t move them?” she accused.

“No, I haven’t touched them,” he retorted, and his eyes searched the room before rolling them at her.  “Look you put them on the table,” he said, picking them up and bringing them to the Aga.

“I swear I didn’t,” she muttered.  She stood alongside him, and cooked the sausages and bacon and grilled the tomatoes.

Opening the box of twelve eggs, he threw four eggs into the pan.  She boiled the kettle and made two mugs of tea; she put them on the table, keeping one eye on them as she plated the sausages, bacon and grilled tomatoes.  Mike added the eggs, and they sat down.

“Ketchup?” she asked, getting back up and going to the fridge.

“Yes, please,” he replied.

She grabbed the bottle from the fridge and sat back down.

“Oh, this taste fab,” he said, as he tucked in.  She smiled at him.

“Mike, about last night, we agree that we don’t say anything to the police.  Right?” she said.

He looked up from his plate.

“Well, I’m not really happy about it to be honest, Matilda.  What if there’s some bloke wandering around this estate; that tramp for a start, he looked dodgy?”

“I know he did, but I don’t think so, like I said, I’m sure I just slept walked.  Please, Mike, I promise I will make sure I lock all the doors and move the keys so there is no way I can get out if I sleep walk again.”  He gave a reluctant nod.

“Okay, but if Carlos wakes up and says some nutter attacked him and Sam, we tell them, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

They both turned and looked at the worktop; the eggs were popping in the box and exploding all over the place.

“Mike!” she gasped and she stood.

Mike spun out of his chair, and stared at the eggs, but they had stilled.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, walking to them.

“Mike, I told you there are ghosts in this Hall,” she said.

He scratched the back of his head as he poked the eggs with a spatula, but nothing happened.

“Maybe they just got hot, I did leave them close to the Aga,” he suggested.  Matilda shook her head.

“No, Mike, it’s something else, I’m sure.”

“Look, do you want me to go home at the weekend and get my equipment.  We can set it up over the hall and see what we pick up,” he suggested.  She shrugged.

“I suppose we could,” she replied, cleaning the mess.  “Maybe he will tell us what he wants.”

“He,” Mike repeated, glancing to her as he washed up the breakfast things.

“Mmm, I think it’s male.”

“Why?”

She pulled a face at him, in an attempt to hide her thoughts.

“Matilda?” he questioned.

“The voice the other day in the basement it was male,” she replied, still not sure if to tell him about Eric.

“Oh, yeah forgot about that one,” he said, throwing the tea-towel onto the sink.

She opened her laptop.

“Mike, you know I said I was looking into my family tree,” she said, glancing to him.  He walked to her and looked.

“Yes, why, have you found anything juicy?” he asked.

“Juicy?”

“Yeah, you know dodgy relatives, or a great aunt running off with her nephew.”

“No, but I did find something, well, about us.”

“Us, what do you mean?” he asked, and he leaned a hand on the table as he looked at the screen.

“Back in 1666ad, one of my ancestors, who just happens to be called Matilda, was murdered by a man named Eric Tovenaar on my birthday, and he was hung three days later.”

“No shit?” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

“No shit, Mike,” she replied, and she pointed.

“See.”

“Oh my god,” he said, and he looked at her.  “And you think he might be one of my ancestors?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know I need to do some more digging, and follow this Tovenaar line.  Your name is unusual though,” she said.

Mike’s walkie talkie bleeped making them both jump.

“Sorry,” he muttered pulling it out of his pocket.

“Steve,” he said.

“Mike, can you come on site?” Steve asked.

“Sure, on my way.”  He turned to Matilda.  “I need to get back to work, can you show me later?”  She nodded.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay in here?” he asked, concerned as he pulled his jumper back on.

“I’ll be fine.  I was going to ask one favour though.”

“What’s that?” he asked, putting his hard hat on.

“Can a couple of your guys give me a hand to take out the old furniture in the day room, and take down the curtains?”

“Sure no problem, in about half an hour?” he suggested.

“Yes, thanks, Mike,” she said gratefully as she walked him to the front door.

Mike glanced back to the kitchen.

“Look, if you are worried or if anything happens just call me okay.  I have my phone on me all the time and I can be here in minutes.”

She lifted a hand to his arm.

“Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.  I’m just going to clear out the day-lounge.”  He gave her a nod and left.

Matilda searched every corner of the day-lounge every floorboard to see if one was loose, every cupboard, and every inch of the walls looking for a secret place where there could be a hidden book.  She found nothing, but by the end of the morning, the day-lounge was almost habitable and she had crossed one more room off her search.

In the afternoon, she nipped to town to order the new curtains.  Just something temporary she could use until they renovated the room properly.  She ate lunch out and got back around 3pm.

Her next room on her hit list was hers and Teddy’s playroom.  This she was dreading and she was in half a mind to ask Mike if he could send his workforce back in to clear it all out so she didn’t have to deal with it.  Then deciding as hard as it was, it would be the wrong thing to do.  She needed to move on and let go of the past, and the only way to do that was to face the past head on.  Well maybe later, she just about had enough time to go for a quick run before it got dark.  She changed into her navy blue tracksuit and pink Nike trainers and headed out of the back door.

She jogged towards the woods, jumping now and then over the huge weeds that took over the old footpath.  Ahead of her, she saw a man with his head down in a drain.

She stopped beside him, while continuing to jog on the spot.

“Hi,” she said.  “What are you doing?”

He lifted his head from the hole startled.

“Oh, hi, Miss,” he replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his forearm as he was wearing gloves.  “I’m just checking the cesspit, there seems to be a blockage from somewhere in the pipe.”

“That’s a nasty job,” she said, scrunching her nose up at the stench wafting up from below.

“Yeah, I’ve had better,” he replied with a smile.

She gave a chuckle and with a smile, she carried on with her run.

He watched her as she ran; she had her hair fixed in a ponytail, and it swished back and forth as she jogged.  He stared at her tight, firm butt.  She was hot!  Rich and fucking hot what a delightful combination.  As she disappeared from his vision, he turned his attention back to the drain.  He gave a frown.

“Now what the fuck is that?” he muttered spotting something looking like silver poking out of the sewerage.

Reaching down, he tugged at it and as it gave away a little, he saw it was a silver candlestick.  His eyes widened, and he glanced back up to make sure Miss Rhiamon was not around to see him.

“You beauty,” he mumbled, “come to papa.”  He tugged harder, but the damn thing refused to budge, so he lay on his belly leaning right into the hole so he could get a better grip.

“Come on you bastard,” he cursed.  “What the …,” he yelled as something suddenly pulled back.  He tugged harder.

He had no time to omit a scream as he whatever held the other end, yanked him down and in seconds he disappeared underneath the stinking shit.

***

As Matilda ran, her nose filled with the scent of autumn, of damp leaves and fresh rainwater, which had drenched the already sodden earth beneath her feet.

“Why do you run?”
he asked, appearing beside her.  Matilda stumbled and almost fell over in surprise.

“Oh my God, Eric, you scared the crap out of me!” she admonished, throwing her hand to her chest as her heart pounded from the shock.

“I am sorry,”
he apologised. 
“But why do you run; I have checked and no one pursues you.”