MAGDALENA'S GHOST: THE HAUNTING OF THE HOUSE IN GALLOWS LANE (3 page)

Standing outside the pub Anton dangled the keys temptingly at Lucy, his face beaming. But she wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm, on the contrary – she wasn’t too keen on entering a house whose ownership they knew nothing about.

“We can walk back up the lane, it’s not far,” he beckoned, as he set off walking.

Lucy followed behind him, dragging her feet to show her obvious dissatisfaction. Anton turned round and smiled amusingly at her. Her head was bowed to the ground as she walked, and he caught her arm as she reached his side. Putting his big strong arm around her shoulders, he hugged her to him as they walked together up the solitary lane which took them past the ancient church and to the big old house on the opposite side of the road. As they arrived at the entrance Anton stopped. Once upon a time there would have been a gate in place, supported by the two stone posts, but it had obviously long since disappeared. He pushed some of the overhanging branches away from the post on the left side of the entrance, and saw a name engraved in the stonework. It read ‘Juniper’. He walked across to the other side, his arm still wrapped protectively around Lucy’s shoulders as he led her along, and as he expected the name on the other post was ‘House’.

“Juniper House, Gallows Lane, Judge Fields,” he said smugly. “It’s a good name, a good address, and I have a good feeling about it. I think we’re destined to have this house Luce, I can feel it beckoning. Come on, let’s get inside. I can’t wait, it’s so exciting. Just think this could be the beginning of the rest of our lives together.”

Lucy shrugged, but had nothing to say. Anton unfolded his arm from around her small shoulders and walked over to the door in the porch. He fiddled with the keys until he found the right one, and although it turned in the lock it wouldn’t open.  He tried the remaining keys but without success. “I think this door must be bolted. It makes sense when you think about it, because the door’s so rotten it would easily break down if someone wanted to rob this place.” But his nonchalant comment provoked Lucy out of her sulk.

“Why would someone want to rob
this
place – rob it of what?” Lucy sneered.

“Oh, you’d be surprised love. There’s plenty to attract someone to an empty house, I can assure you. C’mon, let’s try round the back.” He marched off quickly and before Lucy had time to catch up, he was already in at the back door. “I’m in!” he called to her and then disappeared. Lucy didn’t much care to be left out there alone, so she rushed to get in behind him.

The house was musty and dark, but their eyes soon accustomed themselves to the dimness.

“You should’ve brought the torch from the van,” Lucy whispered uncomfortably.

“You don’t need to whisper love, there’s no-one here – except of course, the bogey-man!” He made a scary move towards her, but instead of smiling she gave him a dirty look. She felt as if they were trespassing. It may be empty to him, but as far as Lucy was concerned it felt as if it belonged to someone else – and of course in reality it still did.

“I don’t think we should be here. If the house doesn’t belong to that old man, who does it belong to? We should have got permission from the owner and perhaps then someone would have guided us around.” She was still whispering.

Anton’s excitement couldn’t be dampened. They were in a darkened passageway at the back of the house. It contained an old pot sink on a metal pedestal which was fixed firmly to the stone floor. It was like stepping back in time. He pushed open a door which led into what appeared to be an old scullery with another stone floor.

“Hey, Luce, come and look at this.” He took a box of matches from his pocket and lit one.

“I’m right behind you,” she whispered nervously, as her fingers gripped his shirt for support. She had no intentions of straying anywhere without him inside a house with no electrics and looking like the black hole of Calcutta.

He was staring at an old black Yorkshire range, in front of which stood an ancient looking and well-worn, rocking chair. An old woollen blanket which was grey in colour was strewn on the floor. Above the range was a large clothes rack suspended from the ceiling, a few odds and ends still visibly clinging to it.

“This will be worth a fortune,” he said eagerly.

“What will?” she asked sarcastically, her voice now at full volume.

“This Yorkshire range, you don’t see many of these anymore.” He winced as the match burnt his fingers before dying a death, and he quickly dropped it on the floor and lit another.

But Lucy wasn’t impressed, and she didn’t like being in the house either. She still felt like a trespasser and she also felt as if they were being watched. She looked around just in case, but of course they were alone – she knew that deep down inside. But her mind still wandered back to the old woman who she thought she had seen earlier.

Anton led her through to the next room. As he stood in what looked to be the main sitting room, he stared around in amazement. It was a big room with lots of daylight coming in from two large windows which had wooden shutters held back in place. The floor was bare of carpet and there were no window dressings either. But Anton’s attention was focused on a grand piano which stood in the far corner of the room. It was covered in decades of dust, which had weaved itself together, over time, to form what looked like a fisherman’s net draped across it. It must have been left alone and abandoned for a lifetime to end up in that condition. A piano stool with a well-worn upholstered seat was placed in front of it, and apart from one sheet propped up on the music rest, others were scattered around the floor. Everything was in the same condition as the piano.

There was an old bookcase full of books positioned against a wall, and the odd chair here and there, plus a big old-fashioned dining table, but not much else. He walked over and browsed through the books, they were mainly educational, many of which were books on art and sculpture, but they were badly damaged with mould and mildew and were hardly legible.

He picked up some of the deteriorating music sheets and placed them on the top of the piano stool carefully, as if he’d been appointed as custodian of someone’s treasures. And they probably had been someone’s treasures once.

They walked into a rather grand old hall with an ancient, wide, curved staircase with very old spindled balustrading. None of it bore any sign of carpets, just exposed wood. The dark, bare and deteriorating walls showed only dim signs of faded paintwork which was grey with age and soiled heavily from years of neglect. Cobwebs hung from every corner and were draped loosely from ceiling to wall. Someone must have once helped themselves to all of the carpets, as even old houses often have threadbare remains. But this house had nothing apart from dust and cobwebs which were plentiful.

Lucy felt as if she’d walked into someone else’s past, it was grim and scary, and she wished Anton would get the hell out of there and retreat to the comfort of their van and get on with their planned journey for the day.

“C’mon Luce, I can’t wait to see what it’s like upstairs.” He beckoned her to follow, as he bounded up the stairs two steps at a time until he reached a long arched window at the half-return. He stopped to inspect.

“Look Luce, this window is all intact – it’s in pretty good nick. That’s good, cos it would be a dreadful shame to have to replace all this beautiful leaded glass with something more contrived.”

Although Lucy couldn’t manage to do the steps two at a time like Anton, her fear of the house overwhelmed her lack of interest, so instead of lagging behind she ran up them as quick as she could. But by the time she had caught up to him, he was off again bounding up the remaining steps until he reached an enormous landing which branched off in at least two directions. He strutted around trying all the doors and peering out of the grimy windows to survey the grounds, the views, and the surrounding countryside. By the time Lucy caught up with him again, she found him standing in front of a door eyeing it suspiciously.

“What’s so fascinating about that door?” she asked breathlessly.

“Take a look at it, what do you see?”

“I see a door, what am I expected to see? Surely you don’t think I can see through it – do you?”

“Seriously Luce, doesn’t something strike you as odd?”

She stared at it again, willing it to talk to her because she hadn’t a clue what she was supposed to be looking for, and quite frankly she didn’t give a toss.

“It’s been sealed up, that’s what! Look, there’s no handle and no lock; it’s all been filled in.”

Lucy felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

“I don’t like it Anton, let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps.”

“That’s because you’re a woman. It’s perfectly natural for you to feel like that,” he replied nonchalantly. “You women are all the same.”

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t too much pleased about that chauvinistic remark. It was completely out of character for Anton – or was it? Perhaps she had never really noticed before that he was a little chauvinistic. She liked to think he had a strong, macho personality which made her feel protected and safe – now she was having doubts. Her expression was showing signs of a pout and Anton was quick to notice.

“Have I said something wrong?” he quizzed.

But she just shrugged her shoulders. This house was coming between them already, she thought, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was clouding her vision and she was seeing something different under his skin. Oh God, how she wished they would get out of there. She could see their planned day going to the dogs. Time was moving on and they were getting nowhere.

Anton seemed to get the message.

“Come on Lucy. Buck up. This is a chance in a lifetime, you’ll see. Follow me and we’ll inspect all the other rooms and then we’ll leave. We’ll hand the keys back to the old chap and then move on.”

Lucy felt relieved and happy to hear him say that, because she was beginning to believe that the house was taking control of him and she was starting to feel increasingly worried. She knew she was possibly being neurotic by feeling that she was playing second fiddle to a house, but that’s how it made her feel. The sooner they got out of there the better. She just hoped he would have got it out of his system by the time they handed the keys back. She sure didn’t want to think about living in it – a thought which made her visibly shudder.

Having locked the house up and made it as secure as they could, they wandered back to the pub hand in hand. They didn’t stop to look at the graveyard, as the rain was coming on and the skies had grown quite dark. It was getting late and they had already missed the chance of reaching their destination before daylight disappeared altogether. Anton moved faster as the rain became quite heavy, and Lucy had to run to stay beside him as his hand tugged at hers. They almost ran into the pub together, and although the barman was still there the old man had disappeared.

“Where is he?” Anton asked, trying to shake the rain off his tousled head.

“He’s gone!” he grunted.

“I can see that,” he responded downheartedly. “When will he be back?”

“After seven, when we open again.”

“Does that mean you’re closed?”

“That is correct! No-one comes in at this time of year.”

“I can see that,” he moaned again. “So what about these keys then?”

“You’ll have to try again after seven.”

“I know you’ve just told me that. So can I leave them with you?” Anton asked impatiently.

“Nope!” And with that the barman proceeded to lock up as he manoeuvred Anton and Lucy towards the door. Anton didn’t offer any objection, after all he hardly wanted them both to be locked in that place for the rest of the day. And Lucy’s face was a picture of annoyance, so he knew he was going to be in big trouble.

They hurried back to the camper van and jumped inside. The rain had come down quite hard and the skies were threatening a storm.

Anton drove back round the way they’d come in at the outset, and headed towards the pull-in which he’d seen earlier.  He jumped out and went in search of a friendly face, but couldn’t find anyone. Everything was closed up – everything except the toilet and shower block. He got back in the van and drove over to a space which he decided was suitable to park up in. He avoided looking at Lucy as he could see her face was competing with the stormy skies above. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to face both storms – the latter of which he was not too keen on.

“And what are we doing here?” Lucy glared at him.

He was behaving sheepishly and he couldn’t bring himself to look into her face. His mind was working overtime, as he searched for ways to make amends. It wasn’t going to be easy. So better to just get on with it and face the music.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night love. I’ll have to give that old chap these keys back, but by the time the pub opens and he comes back in we’ll be too late to go anywhere.”
There, that wasn’t too bad was it?
He thought to himself.

But her response came like thunder.

“It’s that house isn’t it? You want to stay so you can quiz him again. I know what your intention is – you only care about that stupid old house. I might as well not be here for all I seem to matter in this master plan of yours.”
There – she’d said it, and she felt much better for getting it off her chest
.