Return to Rhonan (4 page)

Pacing the black and white stone tiles of the vast marbled hall, Douglas’s nails dug into the palms of his hands. They needed more staff desperately, but this was superstitious nonsense. It would only aggravate the situation further.  A draught swept through the cavernous space lifting the edge of an ancient tapestry of medieval knights.

‘You’re insulting Father O’Reilly here. I’ve pleaded with him to help us and then all you can do is mouth off at him. People in the district just refuse to work
here; they're
too damn scared.  We should be opening in six weeks. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong now. Listen to sense.’ Nathan stuffed his hands in the corduroy trousers, creased and stained with what looked suspiciously like cow dung, the elbows of his tweed jacket threadbare. 

Douglas’s dress taste now ran to the Italian look of the designer jacket complimented with a silk tee shirt contrasting with Nathan’s country farmer style.   ‘Don’t tell me how to do my job.  You stick to the domestic farming and the grounds. I'll see to the hotel.’

‘We’re partners here, so I do have a say in the matter.  We’ve only got a few more  weeks before we open – we’ve got to get more staff from the local people – we can’t afford Edinburgh rates. Come on Douglas, this makes sense.’

‘Sense? You call this sense? It will lower the prestige of the hotel.’ Douglas paused looking up at the head of a stuffed stag; the eyes seemed to glisten as if watching him. ‘I don’t remember discussing or agreeing to any of this with you.’

‘Stop playing the big brother with me.  I don’t think I have to inform you of every decision I make.  Father is doing us a favour.  Seeing as we’re part of the church.’

‘You might be.   Four weeks and suddenly you’re converted. Last
month,
it was Buddhism.”

‘At least I’m not a bloody atheist.’

‘Agnostic
,
Nathan.  I don’t have any religious inclinations.  Just listen to yourself man, an exorcism?  We’re not in the middle ages. Next you’ll be telling me it’s incense, bells a
nd candles.’

‘So, how the hell d’you think you’ll get staff from the villages then?’

‘You’re showing the world we have a bloody ghost.

‘For fuck’s sake−‘   Nathan stopped abruptly.  ‘Sorry Father I got carried away.’

The priest shook his head, the white
hair forming a crown around his natural tonsure. Showing grey stubs of teeth, he said, ‘Tis the devil you’re inviting in here with your quarrelling.’  Taking a small flask from his pocket, he noisily swigged down the contents.  Smacking his lips, he said, ‘I’m after having a hot toddy, for the arthritis.  Tis like an ice house in here, to be sure, an ice house.’

Nathan opened his arms, pleading,
‘Father. What
would you suggest?’

The priest rubbed his pockmarked nose, ‘Tis not up to me to come between brothers.   But, I warn ye, it might take more than an exorcism to shift these ghosties. Don’t be insulting them now, or they’ll be after your soul.’

  Douglas glared at Nathan. ‘No – it’s not going to happen.  That’s final – no exorcism.’

Nathan sprang from his seat. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t experienced it, Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t heard or seen anything.’

‘No I haven’t.’ thundered Douglas. ‘We’ve been living in the bloody caravan for the past year and a half.’

The priest took a pipe out from his cloak, fumbling around for the packet of tobacco.  Carefully filling his pipe, he turned to Douglas speaking quietly. ‘There’s something here.  Been quiet for some time now, but it’s returned.  Can you not smell it?  The smell of the seaweed
– the sulfur
? 
To be sure, the seaweed is Muriall, but
the
stink of sulfur – now ye are in trouble, tis a  demon.’
Douglas stopped short, sniffing the air.  His heart leapt just a little, as he smelt ozone.   Then he laughed.  ‘We’re near the sea Father; it’s just the wind blowing this way
and the sulfur?  It’s an old building Father.’

The priest lifted his pipe in resignation before putting it in his mouth.  Sucking away he smiled; a smile like a vine creeping around Douglas’s heart, squeezing. Maybe he’d heard the odd sigh, the odd word, seen the wisp of a silk skirt disappearing through a door, but it could be just the draughts. Their funds did not run to complete double-glazing; many a room still had the leaded light windows, the creaking stair.

His mind flitted back to a night only a week ago. He’d been sitting right here, his chair drawn up to the hulking white marble fireplace, a book in his hand, enjoying a whisk
e
y, when he’d felt tapering fingers flit across his cheek.  He’d started up, felt the hairs on his neck rise
; h
is eyes trained into the shadows of the vast expanse, shadows deep, and dense wavering in the firelight.  It was then he smelt the ozone, imagined seeping black seaweed slithering across the floor from the door. 

He remembered rising from his chair, heart hammering, chest tightening, on hearing the sigh, long and drawn out. His heart leapt into his throat as his eyes fled to the massive doors, shuddering as one slowly opened.  Tomkins couldn’t have shut it properly. But, then he thought he would yell out, as he saw a scarlet skirt disappear into the darkness of the night. The flickering light caught the marble statues of Zeus and Hermes, playing upon muscles that seemed to move.  He shook his head, looking at ancient tapestries of medieval battle scenes, the fringes lifting in a draught. That was it; the skirt was just the tapestry moving in the antique black flecked mirror.  That’s what he told himself – just light flickering, reflections, draughts and creaking doors.  But, he did not return to the cosy chair.  Neither did he stop to take the whisk
e
y with him, as he strode urgently from that fearful space.

Nathan’s voice brought him back. ‘Come on Douglas,
if Father says there a
demon,
then you should be fucking scared. A
n exorcism won’t hurt.  At least, it will satisfy people.  Father’s greatly respected throughout the district.’

The priest coughed, tapping his pipe out over the hearth.  ‘I think maybe I should be going. It will do no good to keep arguing like this. Twill only makes the haunting worse.’

Nathan sprung forward, ‘No Father, we need to do this.  We just have to hammer it out. Please stay.’  Turning to Douglas, he said, “You know we’ve lost time and money with builders leaving. 
The
village kids
are daring each other to
enter the grounds
.
You know what
they’re
like; little demons will break in anywhere, especially old houses.’

Douglas frowning
,
conceded.  “Yeah.  Strange.  But, rumours build up into legends, all over a bit of nonsense.  If this is what you want, so be it, but keep it short.’

Calmer now, Nathan sat down again in the button-backed leather chair, ‘You can’t tell Father to keep it short.  You know what the solicitor said, generations of Rhonans have fled the damn place –last one stayed a week – we’re not allowed to sell it – no-one will rent it.’

Douglas glowered, punching one fist into the palm of his other hand. He knew he should meet Nathan some of the way.  They’d spent the last eighteen months renovating the Manor House. The castle would have to wait.  With the gardens, small animal farm and some exotic animals to add interest to the park, it took over two million pounds.  A terraced row of newly built luxury cottages along with semi detached and detached houses providing accommodation for the upper management positions took another million.  However, the fully fitted chrome kitchens, the wood floors and minimalist
design with lower than average rents did not tempt the local people to apply for the vacant positions. ‘Damn stupid nonsense. Get it over with if that’s what you want. Don’t expect me to believe in all this hocus pocus.’

The priest glowered at Douglas. ‘This is blasphemous. You are insulting the Holy Roman Catholic Rites.   Have ye no idea of what you’re dealing with man?’

Douglas looked at Nathan’s face, drained of his usual high colour. He realized this was not really about the ghost; it was the future of the hotel.  His voice grated, like gravel over tin, ‘Well as long as you don’t think I’m taking part?’

Father O’Reilly stepped away from the fireplace interrupting, “Ye have to – you’re the oldest Rhonan blood – to be sure
the spirits may
obey you
, if you’re lucky,
but not your young brother.  Now I shall be explaining all the blessed objects we will be using in the Holy Ritual. Then you will be cleansed before we start.’

Douglas jerked his lip into a grimace.  ‘Surely you don’t think I need to be exorcised?’

CHAPTER
6

Father O’Reilly narrowed his rheumy eyes at Douglas then took a quick swig from the whisky bottle.  ‘No, but ye’ll need to be purified man. To
be sure,
you’re no saint –blaspheming the sacred rites.’

Shedding his shabby jacket, the priest unclipped the battered leather suitcase taking out a black tunic and white surplice and alb enriched with gold and purple stripes.  Placing a cloth over the small table, he picked up two sturdy candlesticks, into which he placed candles previously blessed on the church altar.   As he donned the white alb, the rich gold and purple stripes contrasting with his black tunic, he conceded.  ‘It’s only a mild form of exorcism.  To be sure, the place is infested with – think of what has happened here over the centuries –famine – suicides.’  

‘With respect Father –superstition.’ 

The priest kissed the maniple, embroidered with early Christian symbols of the fish, ship and the Great Shepherd.  ‘Your disbelief may hinder the exorcism. Keep your blasphemous comments to yourself.   If you want to open this
hotel,
you’d best be pleasing the villagers.’  As he crossed the maniple over his
chest,
he muttered, ‘There’s no way they’ll set foot in the place until it’s cleansed.’      

Douglas sighed – impurity – demons – ghostly attacks, what next?       

Father O’Reilly placed the exorcised sacraments on the low mahogany table before holding up a large silver crucifix.  ‘We must venerate the cross.  Keep your eyes on this crucifix at all times. Do not be distracted.  Now let us pray. 
Through the death of our Lord Jesus Christ, we defeat Satan. Demons and devils cannot hurt us.  We fear not the bite of the serpent.’

Picking up a Rosary of amber beads, he kissed it placing it with the crucifix. As he turned Douglas, felt quite shocked, as the priest seemed to change in stature and deportment, becoming a dignified clergyman, his hunched back now straightening, chin held high, his rheumy eyes glittering like pale sapphires. 

He nodded to them holding up his hand, palm forward as if bestowing a blessing. ‘So now, Douglas – Nathan stand as I bless these sacred sacraments.’ 

Feeling rather foolish Douglas stood crossing his hands in front of him whilst Nathan duly closed his eyes lifting his hands in prayer.

Gone were the jarring gravel tones as the Father boomed out the sacred blessings and purifications rites in a rich mellifluous voice.  He took out a small bottle of oil. Holding it up, he directed his gaze to Douglas.  ‘The evil spirits hate this one. We use this in the very beginning, each room we go in we throw a few drops of oil across the threshold.

I shall say the rites first in Latin and then in English. You will repeat the English after me. The evil spirits hate this one. Holding both hands over the bottle he said, ‘
Exorcizo te, creatura olei” (“I exorcise, creature oil”). Omis virtus adversarii, om.’
 

Feeling rather foolish, Douglas stumbled over the words. ‘I don’t speak Latin. I can’t remember it.’

‘Then repeat the English
words'
man.’

Picking up another bottle the priest held it up. ‘Holy Water. This drives out demons and defends us against attacks. It cleanses the rooms of their evil impurity. Then we have the salt, which adds to the power.
Beatus lux lucis of Deus fulsi continuo super illa sacramentum purgatio totus pro lemma. Exorczose diabolus quod everto.
’

Turning to them, he repeated it in English. ‘May the blessed light of God shine forth upon these sacraments cleansing all before them.  May they exorcise devils and demons.’

He paused as he said to Nathan, ‘You’ll best be off now.  I don’t want to leave you here on your own.  There’s no telling what will happen.’

Douglas raised his eyebrows, grinning sarcastically at Nathan.

The priest caught the glance muttering, ‘This is no laughing matter, be it ghosts or demons, ye could come back to find your brother spirited
away
, or worse still lying  there with his throat
ripped out
.’