Psychopathia: A Horror Suspense Novel (16 page)

‘Why is he afraid?’ she asked.

‘He’s very confused. Patty’s going to try talking some sense into him. He’ll be fine, you’ll see. We’ll have him passed over in a jiffy.’ She strode past Tully, out of the bathroom, pulling the other woman behind her. ‘We’ll need our bag of tricks,’ she said. ‘It’s in the car.’

‘What do you think?’ Tully whispered to Toby, going back downstairs in Delilah’s wake.

Toby didn’t say anything, and Tully looked at him, concerned. ‘Are you all right? You’re really pale.’

He shrugged. ‘I just want this to be over.’

‘You and me both.’ She glanced out the door, where the two old women were on their way back up the path, Delilah carrying a bag that looked like something Mary Poppins had. Tully shook her head. ‘This isn’t going to work, is it? These two are ridiculous.’

‘You said the ghost hunter guys recommended them.’

‘Yeah, they did. But I doubt now they ever met these two.’

Toby was tugging on a strand of hair. ‘It’s worth a go, though, right? I mean, they might be able to get rid of it like they said.’

Delilah and Patricia bustled back into the house. ‘Living room, I think,’ Delilah said. ‘Bit more space in there. We won’t be swinging any dead cats around, but still.’ She laughed, and Tully just blinked at her. She got a pat on the shoulder. ‘Sorry dear, just trying to inject a bit of humour into the situation.’

‘But it’s not a funny situation,’ Tully said.

‘No, you’re right. It’s a very serious one. But we’ll have the poor soul crossed over and you can all get on with your lives, how will that be?’

‘You think you can do it?’

The lady’s bushy eyebrows shot up towards her helmet of grey hair and she looked over at the delicate Patricia. ‘She’s asking if we can do it. Are we going to be able to convince this poor soul to move on, Patty?’

Patty gave a rapid little nod that made Tully think of a mouse, and then she dived into the bag they’d dragged in.

‘Sage,’ said Delilah, naming the items Patty pulled out. ‘For cleansing, don’t you know. We used to use incense from the Catholic Church, frankincense, of course. Myrrh is a bit harder to find, but anyway, sage – beloved of the Native Americans – turns out to be much better. Patty grows it in her garden. Ah, and of course, we have a crucifix, and holy water, complements of Father Brown. He’s very good to us, is Father Brown.’

‘You’re catholic?’ Tully asked, thinking it somehow seemed a very strange thing.

‘Oh no, dear, not at all. They wouldn’t want the likes of
us
in their church.’ She rubbed leathery hands together. ‘We’re spiritualists. Father Brown just has more sympathies for our beliefs than he’s supposed to. That’s because he’s a natural medium.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, the upshot is, he blesses our water for us. The Catholics are so good at that sort of thing.’

Tully’s mind was spinning. She licked her lips. ‘So, what happens now?’

‘Oh, a little prayer, a little conversation, Patty will do most of the talking.’

That seemed unlikely, or at least ineffective, considering that Patty hadn’t done more than whisper in her partner’s ear. But Tully didn’t suppose there was anything to lose. She nodded.

‘Where do you want us then?’ she asked.

‘Right where you are, is fine. You and your silent brother can perhaps
join hands, meditate, create some energy for the spirit to use – that’s how they manage to communicate, by using our own energy – only this time, we need to give the poor thing enough strength to cross over.’

She’d seen this done before, of course. On television, on the paranormal investigation programmes she’d watch
ed. Tully knew vaguely how it was done, but that didn’t make her any more certain these two ancient females could do it. But one glance at her brother told her they were desperate enough to let them try.

They stood in a circle, hands joined, while Delilah intoned a prayer in her deep voice. It was flowery, full of reverent epitaphs, and did a lot of beseeching. Well that was okay, Tully was about at the level of doing a lot of beseeching herself.
It was a relief to drop Delilah’s hand, though she kept hold of Toby’s when the prayer was over.

The two old women stood face to face, heads together, Patricia doing a bunch of whispering. Maybe she never talked out loud. Was this how they got along all the time? Tully imagined them puttering around their own house – she was beyond certain these two old biddies lived together in the manner of a same-sex relationship – Delilah offering a running commentary, and Patty constantly beckoning her close to whisper in her ear.

This wasn’t helping. Trying to concentrate, Tully brought her attention back to the house, the spirit, the business at hand. A male spirit, Delilah had said, or rather, Patty had said, and Delilah had said out loud. She wondered why she found it so odd that the spirit should be masculine. Guessing it was just because she’d had a picture in her mind of all the poor women shut away in asylums, she blinked, wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning sage and waited for whatever was going to happen to happen.

‘It’s time to cross over,’ Delilah was saying. ‘In the name of all that is holy, the father, son,
Holy Ghost, it’s time for you to move on. Not only are you unwelcome here, but it is past time for you to go home. Let loose the shackles of your physical life, let it have no further hold on you, let go its grief and despair, and move toward the light.’ Another whispered exchange with the voiceless Patty. ‘Yes, we feel you near, and let you hear us – this is not your home, you are not welcome here. See the light, look at the light. It is the way forward, you must enter the light, let it cleanse you of all your worldly worries. Your loved ones are waiting for you. Enter the light, let it flow through you, let it take you home.’

Delilah continued that way for several more minutes, but Tully was no longer listening. She leaned close to Toby. ‘Do you feel that? It’s gotten real cold.’ She sniffed, the icy air making her nose run. Glancing at the old women though, she saw Delilah perspiring with the effort of speaking. Patty had her eyes closed, swaying back and forth ever so gently, the sage grasped in one bony hand, the smo
ke from it wafting up in a hazy crown around her head.

On the coffee table, the crucifix wobbled on its stand and fell over.
Tully jumped and watched it judder to a stop on the glass. She swallowed, her mouth dry as if she’d been eating sand. From upstairs came the sound of running water, and she glanced at the ceiling, knowing the bathroom taps were on.

Delilah didn’t even pause in her monologue. On and on, her voice went, lifting and lowering,
begging then ordering, telling, cajoling. Go towards the light. Go towards the light. Go home, pass over, go towards the light. Tully groped for Toby’s hand again and gripped it tight, watching her breath puff out in a white mist, in broad daylight.

Upstairs, the water suddenly cut off, and the house fell silent except for Delilah’s prayer and Patty’s muttering and murmuring. Tully crowded closer to her twin. The crucifix wobbled on the glass table top. A strange atmosphere of expectation built up in the room, almost like a bubble, and everything distorted, twisted, and Tully blinked against it, tried to focus on Delilah’s prayer, to join her own will towards it. Go towards the light. Go towards the light.

Do it!

Something brushed past Tully, lifted her hair from her face, slid icy fingers across her skin before moving on. She gasped, felt Toby next to her grow rigid, knew he’d felt it too. And then it was pressed against her, whatever it was, it felt like a body, a body made of ice and air and something so
angry and needy, and for a moment it was almost inside her, and she squeezed her eyes closed,
pushed
with all her will and it was gone, and the room was rushing back into sight again and Delilah was still standing there, arms around Patty, who sagged against her.

Tully dropped her brother’s hand, stumbled forward, trying to find her voice still frozen in her throat, covered in ice crystals.

‘Is she okay?’ she asked. ‘Patty – is she okay?’ The woman looked dead. She could be dead, her face was an unhealthy grey, skin baggy against bones. Delilah put out a hand and held Tully back.

‘She’s all right. We’re just not spring chickens anymore. It takes a toll.’

Sure enough, the bag of bones was breathing. Tully sucked in her own lungful of air, relief making her legs rubbery. She threw a glance at her brother, saw him standing there, a thunderstruck expression on his face, and knew just how he felt – she’d felt it too, the spirit, pressing against her, laughing at her.

‘Is it gone?’ she asked Delilah, and the old girl in her tweeds and thick stocking
s in the middle of summer nodded.

‘He’s passed over, I’m sure of it. Patty felt him leave, didn’t you Patty?’
There was a vague nod from Patty’s place against shelf of Delilah’s bosom and Tully sucked in another breath. In a moment, her chest would loosen – the spirit was gone – and she’d be able to breathe normally again. No more sheets tangled in the bathwater. No more knives flung to the floor at work. No more whispers, thumps, clatters. Gone, gone, gone. And no more ghost hunting for her. She didn’t even want to contact her mother anymore. Her mother was gone, passed over too. Best for her to stay there.

‘Help us pack up, girl,’ Delilah said. ‘I’m going to put Patty in the car. We probably shouldn’t be doing this anymore. Too old. It’s been a good life, and a long one, but we’re too old for this, I think. I should have known.’

Tully looked at the old woman, and saw her pale face and felt bad. Delilah, she saw, was just a moment away from tears, standing there propping up the ashen Patty, arm wrapped around the woman’s frail waist. She was right, they were too old for this. Just like Tully was too young to have stuff like this happen. She wanted to go back to uni, study, go out laughing and drinking with her friends, be free again. Bending down, she plucked up the crucifix, avoided looking the suffering Christ in the face, and put it in the Mary Poppins bag. Delilah passed her the sage. It was still burning.

‘Take this all around the house,’ she said. ‘But particularly the baby’s room and the bathroom. Waft it into the corners.’

‘Why?’ Tully asked. ‘I thought the spirit was gone?’

‘It is,’ Delilah said. ‘But you need to cleanse the place anyway. Get rid of any lingering energy.’

Tully took it from her and nodded. ‘Do you need any help to the car?’ she asked.

‘If you’d just carry the bag, please, that would be a great help.’

She could do that. The Mary Poppins bag clanked as she picked it up and she wondered what else it had in it. They’d been lucky, it seemed, the spirit had moved on without the aid of crucifix, holy water, and whatever other wonders were in the bag.

The sun made her blink, and the feel of its heat against her bare arms almost made her weep with pleasure. She’d been so cold for a few minutes in there. So cold, her breath had misted in front of her.

Delilah tucked Patty in the car, came back around and took the bag from Tully, shook her hand. ‘You be careful,’ she said.

‘Of what?’ Tully replied. ‘I thought it was gone?’

‘It’s gone. But sometimes when they leave, there’s a vacuum, and you run the risk of the vacuum being filled.’ She nodded at the sage. ‘Use that, and you’ll be fine.’ Her hand didn’t grip as tight on Tully’s. ‘Look after yourself,’ she said, and let go.

‘Thank you,’ Tully said. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Our pleasure,’ Delilah said with a nod, and got into the car. In less than a minute they were gone.

Tully walked back to the house in a daze. Had she really just been part of a house cleansing? An exorcism or whatever it was called? She held up the sage and sniffed, wrinkled her nose. Mary would not like her house stinking of this.

But still. Delilah had said something about vacuums, and Tully didn’t think she was talking about the sucky sort.

Toby was standing where she’d left him, still in the living room, by the coffee table. He stood there, head down, blinking.

‘They’re gone,’ Tully said. ‘You want to help me do this?’ She held up the smoking bundle of sage.

He rubbed his face, looked at her, and nodded.

‘Was that wild, or what? I hope old Patty is going to be all right. She looked completely done in.’ Tully was babbling, but she didn’t care. A weight had been lifted from her, and she was remembering what it felt like to be carefree. She grabbed hold of the feeling and slipped it on like a bathing suit. ‘Hey, you want to go out to the pub tonight? Meet Lara and Matt? We haven’t seen them for ages.’ She walked around the room, wafting the sage into the corners, just like she’d been told. Then headed upstairs to do the same, Toby trailing along behind her, like her shadow. ‘We can tell them what went down today. Because it was kind of freaky there for a minute, you know what I mean?’ She sent some smoke into the bathroom and turned to look at her brother, waited for him to nod, then carried on. ‘I felt it. The spirit, I mean.’ She gave a theatrical shudder, as good as any Lara ever did. ‘It – he – pressed against me. I mean, right against me. Like it was feeling randy or something.’ It was okay to laugh about it now. The house was clear, filled with the funny smell of burning sage, but at least there were no ghosts anymore. Tully could relax. Things could go back to normal.