The Haunting of Highdown Hall (6 page)

“Mrs Atkins, there is no need to do it again. I have carefully surveyed every room and there is no spiritual presence in any of them. I’m sorry to say I think your imagination might be the culprit here – perhaps from viewing one too many horror films? If you’re not happy with my assessment, I apologise, but there are plenty of other psychics you can call on for a second opinion. In my opinion, however, all is clear. As for today, I won’t charge, call it a goodwill gesture.”

“Charge? Of course you won’t charge,” Mrs Atkins seemed to be unravelling before her, “you haven’t bloody
done
anything!”

“The reason I haven’t done anything,” Ruby countered, edging her way towards the door and freedom, “is because there’s nothing
to
be done. Something to be grateful for, I should think.”

Mrs Atkins quickly followed after her, her voice shrill in Ruby’s ear. “But other houses on the estate, they have ghosts. Why haven’t I?”

Ruby faltered at her words. It was never the dead that bothered her, always the living.

“Goodbye, Mrs Atkins,” she sighed, before getting the heck out of there.

***

“Hi, Ness,” said Ruby, pulling up outside the house of the ghost dog in Heathfield.

“Hi, Ruby. Bad morning at Brookbridge?”

“You could say that, but nothing to do with the dead.”

“Oh, a wannabe.” Ness was immediately sympathetic.

“Yep, a wannabe,” confirmed Ruby, also using the nickname she and her team had for those who ‘wannabe’ haunted. “Anyway, next up. Let’s go and see if we can send ‘Rover’ to join his friends at the Rainbow Bridge.”

Knocking on the front door, solid oak this time she was glad to note, it was a couple of minutes before it opened rather hesitantly.

“Psychic Surveys?” said the occupier, another young woman, but this one looked embarrassed rather than manic – a slight improvement.

After confirming their identity, Ruby and Ness were ushered in; following Miss Mills to the kitchen, they were offered more tea. Depending on how many houses she visited in a day, Ruby sometimes felt awash with the stuff, unable to face any more once the working day was over. After explaining the procedure and asking a few questions, Ruby and Ness drained their mugs and made their way upstairs to the landing.

“This is it,” said Miss Mills, lingering behind them, “where the noise comes from.”

“Have you ever seen him?” asked Ruby, wondering about the dog’s energy levels.

“No, of course not,” blushed the woman before beating a hasty retreat downstairs.

Ruby turned to face Ness. She could definitely feel a presence – a wagging tail, a wet nose, a creature that sensed her right back. Initially worried it may have been a Rottweiler or a pit bull, she was relieved to sense a Labrador instead, a usually more amenable dog.

To test if she was right, she murmured, “Black?”

“Aha,” nodded Ness.

“Labrador?”

“That’s what I’m seeing.”

“Male?”

“Male.”

“Hey boy,” whispered Ruby, closing her eyes and tuning in, “stop barking at me and listen up instead.”

The dog immediately hushed, although its tail continued to wag expectantly.

Surprised by his obedience, Ruby continued. “You’ve been a good dog, I can tell; a cherished family pet. But the family you were a part of, they don’t live here anymore. A new family live here and they’re not exactly appreciating your efforts.”

Sensing confusion, she kept talking. “Yes, I know that seems strange. But it’s their house now, the new family, and their wishes count. You’re a great guard dog, one of the best, but you don’t have to guard anymore. You can rest awhile, in the light. You’ll love it there. Listen, Jed is it, is that your name?” Ruby looked at Ness who nodded that she thought it was too. “Listen, Jed, the light that’s shining, go towards it. That’s home now.”

“His tail’s stopped wagging,” Ness pointed out.

“I know, I think we’re getting through to him,” Ruby replied, somewhat amazed.

“He’s turning to go,” continued Ness, “he’s walking away from us. He’s still not wagging his tail though.”

“He will, once he’s in the light.”

“He’s looking back, he’s unsure.”

“Go on, boy,” Ruby encouraged, “it’s okay, there’s nothing to worry about. Walk on.”

After a few moments, Ness said, “He’s gone.”

“Good,” said Ruby, hoping Jed was indeed furiously wagging his tail again and that he’d be amply rewarded on the other side for his gentle and loyal nature.

They rejoined Miss Mills in the kitchen and told her what had transpired.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Miss Mills exclaimed. “I can’t bear dogs, dead or alive.”

After handing them a cheque, Ruby and Ness were promptly shown the door. Clearly Miss Mills wasn’t overly fond of mediums either.

Walking to Ruby’s Ford, which was parked next to the older woman’s equally insalubrious Vauxhall, Ness said, “Our first encounter with an animal, huh? Went well, didn’t it?”

“It did indeed,” said Ruby, as pleased as Ness was, “surprisingly well.”

“Are you off to meet Theo now?”

“Yes, in Hove. And then that should be it until Highdown Hall tomorrow.”

“Oh yes, I’ll be interested to see what you make of Highdown.”

“What we’ll all make of Highdown soon enough.”

After saying goodbye, Ruby drove on to her next appointment. The journey, via Lewes, then past Brighton and on into Hove, was trouble-free, the roads clear, but still she felt uncomfortable, unable to shake off the feeling that she wasn’t travelling alone. She knew it was possible for spirits to attach themselves to humans but such an occurrence was rare – normally they preferred to attach themselves to places rather than people. Rare, but not impossible – hence the need to visualise yourself wrapped in a blanket of white light before a cleansing, a protective shield to ward against such things happening, psychic armour almost. Ruby and her team never failed to do so; they had done so today, what had gone wrong?

Confused, Ruby chanced a surreptitious glance at the seat beside her; she then looked into the rear view mirror but could see nothing, no outline, no manifestation enjoying a scenic ride, just empty space. Or was it the illusion of empty space?

Driving past the Greyhound Stadium, past the traffic lights at the intersection of Old Shoreham Road and into Sackville Road, Hayes on the corner selling an abundance of Christmas trees, glorious even in their pre-adorned state, Ruby continued under the railway bridge before taking a right into a popular residential area known as Poets Corner – a series of streets named after Shelley, Wordsworth, Livingstone and their ilk.

Pulling up behind Theo’s rather more stylish Fiat 500, pearlised white with Italian side stripes even though Theo claimed not a drop of Mediterranean blood, she felt the sensation of something wet brushing her hand. Surprised, she looked down and there he was, only just visible – Jed, the black Labrador, looking up at her eagerly with love, adoration and, yes, she was sure of it, unswerving loyalty in those soft canine eyes of his.

“Oh, Jed,” she said as his manifestation faded, “what am I supposed to do with you?”

Chapter Four

Jed had in fact come in very useful during the cleansing of the house in Hove. As in life, so in death; children respond well to animals and this particular child had been no exception, playing enthusiastically with his new-found friend. Jed dutifully rolling over, allowing his tummy to be tickled, jumping back up again, nuzzling the boy, licking his face profusely. The spirit child had laughed and laughed – a wonderful sound. But, as heart-warming as it was to hear, Ruby had reminded herself that this was not a happy child they were dealing with, far from it. He was sad, lost; he wanted his mother, a mother he couldn’t have again, not in this world anyway. A mother who, according to the new owners, had moved away shortly after his death from meningitis, unable to bear these four walls without her living child there with her. The owners had been quick to point out that the boy hadn’t died at the house, but at the local hospital. It didn’t matter though, if spirits returned, they tended towards places significant to them, places they were happy in during life, places where they felt they belonged.

Timothy, the boy, understood nothing of this.

I want my mummy. Where is she?

All he knew was that he was alone.

“How old are you, sweetheart?” Theo had asked him, her voice as soft and soothing as a favourite aunt’s.

Five!
The boy had announced his age proudly.
Five and three quarters
. A clever boy, if a little precocious.
Who is that other boy?

“He’s called Dylan.” Ruby had spoken next. “He lives here now. This is his bedroom.”

No!
A stomp of the foot.
This is my bedroom. Where are my toys? I don’t like his. Tell him to go.

Timothy was beginning to get cross, the energy around him building. On the floor, Lego and cowboys started to vibrate, as if he were getting ready to throw them. The atmosphere became heavier, denser. Theo and Ruby did their best to placate him, but not even Theo’s soothing voice could calm him. It was only when a great ball of fur had suddenly thundered in, rushing past them, straight to the child’s side and distracting him, that the increasingly dangerous situation had been defused.

As the child began to laugh, Theo seized the chance to explain to Timothy that he had passed; a hard thing to get across at the best of times, let alone to a small child. Timothy, however, steadfastly ignored her, too absorbed in Jed.

I always wanted a dog,
he said, to no one in particular, probably to Jed.

Patiently, Theo tried again. “Do you see a light, Timothy? A beautiful, bright light? It’s there if you look. Tell me, can you see it?”

No response.

“It’s sparkling too,” Theo continued, “like a beam from a magic lantern.”

That got his attention.

What is it?
He couldn’t resist asking.

“It’s home.”

As the boy stared, Theo spoke again.

“Touch it,” she encouraged, “feel how lovely it is, Timothy. It’s like the warmest, the softest, the fluffiest blanket you’ve ever known, wrapping itself around you.”

But the boy did not move.

“Timothy?” Ruby prompted.

A shake of the head.

I want my mummy,
he repeated, his hand, previously deep in Jed’s fur, faltering.

Theo ventured on.

“I know you do, sweetheart. And she wants you too, so very much. But she’s not here anymore. She had to go and live in another house. A new family live here and this is their home now. Your home is in the light. There are people there, people who know and love you, people who will look after you until mummy can be with you again.”

Ruby could see tears running down the boy’s cheeks, tears that caused her own eyes to blur. Dealing with spirit children was always so damned hard.

“Darling...” but before Theo had a chance to say anything more, Ruby quietened her.

“Wait...” she whispered, laying a hand on her arm.

Jed was nudging the boy now with his nose, nudging him, Ruby presumed, towards the light. The boy was resistant at first, pushing the dog away, lost in sorrow again, thinking only of his mother – but Jed was relentless. Finally, the boy looked up.

Grandad?
There was surprise and delight in his voice.

Both Theo and Ruby watched as the boy rose to his feet.

Grandad!
He repeated the name, no surprise this time, just pure and sweet delight.

Turning away from them, from Jed, the boy ran to his grandfather and, as the old man’s arms encircled him, the atmosphere in the room immediately brightened. After a few moments, Timothy’s grandfather pulled away and, taking the boy’s hand in his, led the child home.

It was only when they had faded entirely that Jed returned to Ruby’s side, looking, she had to admit, extremely pleased with himself.

“You still can’t stay,” she said sternly. Then, unable to resist, she favoured him with an indulgent smile before turning to Theo, “I could murder a Starbucks.”

“Me too,” Theo eagerly agreed, “one of those caramel macchiato things.” And with that she was off downstairs to break the good news to the anxious owners waiting below.

***

After a fitful night’s sleep (mainly because Jed had taken up residence at the end of her bed, scratching constantly at some imaginary itch), Wednesday dawned bright and cold.

Yawning, Ruby removed her earplugs first and then her eye mask – essential nightwear as far as she was concerned, sensory deprivation giving her the best chance of remaining oblivious to any spirits that happened to be wandering about. Any spirit, that was, except Jed, his fidgets were too regular to ignore.