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Jessie bit her
lip; this
was so painful for him, and she could see his eyes looking inward as if he was re-living the scene. 

‘He started rowing – didn’t put a life jacket on her – stupid bugger.  I went to the water’s edge, saw Marnie wave at her Mum and then the bastard stood up waving his arms as if it was some big joke.  It all went into slow motion, the boat turning over; Marnie’s small arms reaching towards the water, people shouting.  I threw off my shoes and leapt in. The water was so damn deep, and dark.  I swam out to the spot and dived, but I couldn’t see her. I didn’t have goggles and I just couldn’t do anything. Oh God....’ the tears bubbled in his eyes. 

Jess went over to him and sat on the side of the settee holding his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I knew it was hopeless. The mud was thick on the bottom. I had to get air. My lungs were bursting. I knew if didn’t get air I couldn’t save her, so I shot to the top to get another lung full. Then someone grabbed my shoulder shouting, ‘We’ve got her mate – got her.’  I thought he was saying, ‘We’ve lost her.’ Thought he was trying to save me.  I struggled; started punching
him,
but another guy swam up and screamed at me.’

He paused taking a sip of his drink, a muscle working in his jaw as he continued, ‘He shouted, “She’s okay, okay.”  I passed out – been down too long.  They dragged me out and I just lay there.  As I came too on the bank, the paramedics worked on her, but she wasn’t breathing.  I got up and started yelling, looking for the bastard.  He was standing there watching them with Cilla holding his arm crying.  I slugged him hard.  Cilla was screaming. God I just lost it. You know? Lost it.’

He rubbed the sides of the glass, his hands steadying; ‘She was in a coma for three days.  They said because the water was so cold at that depth, it saved her.   After that I went to court again, but they ruled it was an accident, a stupid one on his part, but they still got custody. Can you believe it?’     

Jessie rose and got him some more water.  ‘So that’s where the phobia started – of lakes?’

‘Yeah, I didn’t know I had it until I went back to the lake again.  As I stood looking out over the water to the spot where it happened, I felt this horror, a kind of paralysis, my heart was thundering, eyes fixed, staring, I couldn’t move, If anyone saw me, they would have thought I was mad.  The shaking started, then the need to vomit.  I know now that I can’t even talk when I’m in that state. I feel so lost, alone; who the hell can understand that, I’m not mad, it’s just this terrible fear.’

‘You’re not alone – I can help you.

Douglas realized that they had reached another level in this traumatic relationship.  He felt a hard body bump into his leg. He gazed down into the narrowed eyes of the cat that arched its back hissing. Phantom, the name suited.  He took hold of Jessie’s hand. ‘Are you going to tell me about it?’

‘About what?’

‘The attack – last night.  Nat said you were petrified.’

Jessie took her hand away, ‘Oh – err ... I’d rather not.’

‘Nat tells me some demon hurt you?’

‘What’s the use of talking about it, you don’t believe in these things.’

‘I believe you were hurt – that you suffered.  Have you thought of seeing a doctor?’

Jessie stiffened her face tensing as she bit her lip. ‘You’re really saying I hallucinated aren’t you?’

Douglas looked down unable to face the hurt in her eyes. ’Something like that.’

‘Well let me assure you I don’t need a psychiatrist. I am a psychologist. I know the signs.  Let’s just say we beg to differ.  At the moment, I am more concerned about you.  You need to get that phobia sorted otherwise it could generalize until anything to do with water could send you into a panic. So let me help you.’

CHAPTER 3
6

Douglas looked down biting his lip. He’d tried so many ways to overcome this fear.  All failed so far.  He directed his gaze to
Jess.
‘I’ve had behaviour therapy, medication, hypnosis, but it hasn’t taken away the fear. It just helps me so that I can go near a lake.’ 

‘So, it may not be just that particular incident. If it was, it would be an exogenous fear, one brought about by outside influences. But, if as you say nothing has helped so it’s something within you. The accident only helped to bring it to the fore.  A phobia really means there is something in your unconscious buried, deep, too intolerable for you to bear.  So, the mind is very clever. It has covered it with a phobia, that way you can cope with life.  Whilst you’re worrying about the phobia, your mind is occupied, so the real terror cannot rise to the surface of your mind. ’

‘But,
you’re supposed to be on vacation.’

‘My work is my life Douglas– without
it; I'd
just dry up and wither away as they say.’    

‘So what about you and me?’

Jess lowered her eyes, ’Can we leave it for a while.  I can’t go back – I need space now.  It seems every man I pick rejects me, one way or another.  Sometimes I think I do it deliberately, knowing they’ll leave me. ‘

‘Like your Dad?’

She nodded. ‘I know he died, but a child doesn’t know that, doesn’t accept it.   I used to sit on the windowsill when was I about three years old and pretend I had a
Dad,
that he was walking down the street, walking home to me. I thought if I pretended hard enough it would come true.  I’d wave, and people would think I was waving at them and wave back.   Children do have deep feelings at that age you know.  They’re anxious if their parents leave them to go to work, or go out for an evening.  So, I should have got over it. But...’

Douglas took her hand, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you Jessie, when you showed me the locket,  first I thought it was another fraudster, then I thought there was a chance you were the heir, and Marnie’s face swam before my eyes – I’m sorry.’

‘We seem to be saying sorry a lot today. ‘

Douglas stroked the pale delicate hand, so small in his. He longed to hold her in his arms, feel her heart beating next to his.  He knew then he would never leave her, never leave the child in this woman’s body, the child waiting on that windowsill.  If only she would have him back. He knew in that instant that he loved her, a love that came from the depths of his being, an exquisite pain slicing through flesh and mind. They had only just met, been together only a short
while,
but already she was in him, part of him.  His love would take them through life into death and beyond.  Lovers’ thoughts, lovers' sorrows.  If only – if only he could take it all back.  But, ‘if only’ were the two saddest words in the English language.

***

With the blinds and curtains
draw for the seance,
the room looked suitably dark and sombre.  The only relief came from candlelight flickering over the walls, picking up the golden fleur de Lys in the wallpaper.  A faint aroma of lavender and sage wafted from pot pouris scattered on small occasional tables.  Jessie was glad the two animals were safely ensconced in the kennels for the night.  Any psychic gathering would really upset them; animals were so sensitive to the presence of spirit.

Noticing Lucy’s questioning gaze as Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique flooded the room,  Dinah said,  ‘The music draws spirit. Mediums encourage sitters to sing nursery songs, or whatever makes sound.  Then there’re the scents as well, they cleanse, drawing in spirits from the higher spheres’

Twining her fingers in a lock of pale blond hair Lucy said, ‘I thought we were here to exorcise the woman in the painting – Muriall?’

‘Oh no, we’re just going to sit in a circle, and hope Muriall comes through.  I think she needs help.  There’s something terribly sad about her. ‘ 

Dinah said, ’Jess’s dreamt about her and the dreams don’t bode well.’

Douglas shifted in his seat.  He didn’t want to be here, but if it meant being with her, so be it.  It wasn’t as if she was asking him to believe.  He looked at the Ouija on the table, with scraps of paper with the  words of the alphabet placed in a circle around it, and the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ positioned  at each end of the table.

George said, ‘I thought we were just going to sit and hold hands.  This is a Ouija board isn’t it? I’ve heard it can attract evil – well it does in films.’   

Dinah laughed.  ‘No that’s just fantasy.  Anyway, this Manor doesn’t have any dark history does it?’  

Nat frowned.  ‘Well yeah, it does really; Maximillian, Lord Duncan’s younger brother was killed in a duel. Around the same time, Lord Duncan supposedly drowned himself and Father O’Reilly swears blind there’s a darker spirit here.’

Lucy said, ‘It’s been a place of horror. George and I had a day out.  We drove over fifty miles to the  Clearances Museum.  They give lectures and slide shows on the Clearances of 1810 onwards. Thousands of people starved to death here.’

Dinah groaned.  ‘Aw Lucy, don’t – can’t bear to hear of it.’

‘They had to bear it, families evicted from their cottages, living in holes in the road, children crying, dying on their feet.’   

Jess said. ‘You’re right Lucy, there have been some terrible, heartbreaking things happening here. Maybe we shouldn’t go on with this.  It’s too powerful – too dark.’

The Ouija board  moved as she spoke.  Jess clenched her teeth.  ‘No we can’t go on.  It’s too
dark.’

‘Shut up.’  A deep voice sliced the air and their hearts with terror. ‘Ye cannot leave now. It's started.’ 

Douglas tried to stand, but George pushed him back down.  ‘Look at Lucy.’

Unconscious, Lucy lay slumped in her seat, her mouth partly open. In shocked silence, they saw a thin wisp of smoke escape through her mouth, thickening, building into a balloon shape drifting over the table.  Dinah cried
out,
as a skeletal head emerged from the smoke, the teeth clacking together.

Jess’s heart jumped as a male voice boomed out,   ‘Can ye bear the suffering?  Can ye bear to see our people dying, crying for food, bones sticky with fever, sucking them dry?’ 

Dinah tried not to run, as the skull zoomed in front of her, her heart pounding as it snapped its teeth the air in front of her, drawing nearer.

More smoke exuded from Lucy’s mouth.  Jess whispered, ‘It’s ectoplasm.’

Douglas felt his heart drumming in his ears. Christ it was true, bloody true, life after death. God, but not this – not this.  He crouched as the ectoplasm swirled above them, spiralling into the form of a young woman, her hair, scarlet trails of blood, socketless eyes turning to them. She uncovered a tiny
skeleton; long
vaporous fingers stroking the yellow baby skull, small toothless jaws clicking as it suckled at her breast. Hovering over them, she disappeared only to appear behind them gliding towards the writing desk.  They watched in shocked silence as she began to croon ‘Bye Baby Bunting, Daddy’s gone a huntin....’    

No one dared to speak as the room became ice cold, their breath tendrils of smoke. Lucy groaned ejecting a dense cloud of smoke. Another voice, deep, husky sneered, ‘Death comes.  She shall be mine. Ye shall never have her.’

Despite his
horror,
Douglas cried out, ‘Whose death, who?’ 

‘The bitch is dead.’ The dense cloud drifted over to Jess, the livid face of a man stretching forth, the eyes weeping pus, the teeth, yellow dripping slime, a face from the grave. ‘She has always been mine.’  

Douglas gave a startled cry as Jess almost disappeared in a cloak of black smoke. He lunged forward, deaf to Dinah’s warning, clutching at Jess trying to pull her to him. ‘Get back to hell you evil bastard.’  As he held her, he felt a viscous slime dripping over both of them, into his eyes, his nostrils, mouth.  Choking, fighting to wipe away the mess, he heard Jess coughing, gasping for breath, the slime spilling from her lips, he dug his fingers into her mouth trying to clear
it, she was choking.
 

To his terror, Muriall’s wraith floated before him, the skeletal hands reaching out to Jess, the tiny jaws of the shrunken baby gnashing. His hands shook, as he tried to brush the wasted appendages away from Jess’s face, but in vain.  In horror, he watched the bony fingers wriggle inside Jess’s mouth, pulling out streams of slime.  He wanted to get up and run, but was rooted to the spot.  To his terror and relief, he saw the flow of gel become small globules as Jess vomited out a mass of slime onto the table.  Her eyes fluttered open, chest heaving as she began to breathe. 
Slowly,
Muriall removed the emaciated fingers from Jess’s mouth and turned her head towards Dinah, drifting towards her singing ‘Bye baby Bunting, Daddy’s gone a huntin ....’

Dinah backed away, shouting, ‘Our Father who art in Heaven–’

A dark voice bellowed over Muriall’s lullaby, ‘Time to fly ... time to die ... the piglet is screaming,
Prissy is fucking a demon
and I am dreaming of drinking your
fucking
BLOOD.’

A gale shrieked through the room, curtains billowing, ornaments smashing to the floor.  The chandelier swung dangerously above them, a teardrop crystal falling as if in slow motion cutting Lucy on the forehead.