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As she followed Will under the porch she shivered and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled; her inbuilt supernatural radar was telling her it was already inhabited by someone that Will would never see but there was no way she would let it stop her because she knew that she wanted to love this house from the inside as much as she loved the outside. As Will pushed the wooden door open, she looked at the faded wooden sign above it – Apple Tree Cottage – and sighed. The house was empty for now and Will led her by the hand from room to room. It was a good job neither of them were tall, as the ceilings were low. Each one had exposed wooden beams. Jake would struggle because he was very tall, but after hitting his head a few times he would remember about them. The kitchen was the only room that still had most of its cupboards and a huge old-fashioned range cooker. It wasn’t very big and Will read her mind. ‘If we knocked through this and the other two rooms we could have a really big kitchen-diner where you could practise your cooking skills.’
He winked at her and she laughed.
‘Cheeky—it’s a good job you can cook or we’d starve. Will, I love it. I can see a huge pine table and chairs and a sofa and a bookcase in the corner.’
She could also see children running and playing but she didn’t say this because she didn’t want to him to get scared before they’d even finished looking.
‘It’s everything I’ve ever dreamt about, but what about you? Your house is equally as gorgeous, just a lot smaller.’
‘I love it around here, Annie, and I would very much like to live here, in this house. I think it has so much potential and it will make an amazing family home. Of course, it will also be a major pain in the arse with the planning and builders and mess, but if you can put up with it then so can I.’
Annie held her breath. He’d said ‘family home’ and she wondered if perhaps he’d been thinking the same as she had but been too afraid to say anything. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his lips hard, then just as quickly she pulled away, taking his hand and dragging him to the rickety, steep staircase. They climbed up the stairs and Annie was surprised at how large the landing was; there was enough room by the small window which looked out over the fields and woods at the back of the house to put a desk and chair. They went in each room. There were five bedrooms in all and a bathroom. These rooms were much larger than the ones downstairs and the master bedroom was bigger than the one they had now. Annie paused in there to look at a painting on the wall; it was of the house when it was lived in. The exterior walls were white and the window frames painted pale green and Annie knew then that this was how she wanted it to look, exactly the same. There were wisps of smoke coming from the chimney and in the garden under a tree in the corner she could just make out the figure of a woman who was wearing a long white dress and had long straight dark hair. She had a basket on her arm but she was only visible to the naked eye if you squinted. Annie wondered if this part of the painting had been damaged somehow because the rest was in good condition.
She heard a scratching sound and whirled around. It sounded like fingernails being scraped across a blackboard. She shuddered but it stopped as suddenly as it had started. Will, who had wandered into the next bedroom, called her to come and have a look at the view. She pushed the noise to the back of her mind. The house had been empty so long it was bound to have mice, birds and God knows whatever else living inside. A voice whispered, And ghosts. She followed Will’s voice to the room, which looked onto the front garden from the large window. As she crossed the creaking floor to look out of it she was hit by a sense of àdéjà vu so strong that it made her knees tremble. She had looked out of this window before—the last two nights in a row in her nightmare. Will looked at her, taking hold of her hand.
‘What’s wrong Annie—is everything okay?’
She smiled at him, afraid to tell him anything when she didn’t understand it herself.
‘Wow, it’s truly beautiful, Will. I can’t believe it’s just been left to go to ruin for so long. I wonder why the owners moved out?’
‘I do know, but I don’t want to put you off.’
‘Oh, God, please don’t tell me someone was murdered in here.’
Will laughed. ‘You’re funny, Annie, and you have the nerve to call Jake a drama queen. No, nothing as horrible as that. The couple that lived here were called Bill and Margaret and they left because Bill became quite poorly, mentally. He had to be put into a mental hospital and back then it wasn’t as easy to get out as it is now. His wife was elderly and she moved into a flat to be near her husband, but his health deteriorated and he died. Margaret was devastated and didn’t want to live here on her own so she never came back.’
‘Aw that’s so sad, but kind of romantic too. And now we might be able to live here and bring it back to life.’
‘Yes, say the word, Miss Graham, and it can be ours. I’ll call and see the owner on the way back.’
Annie chewed her lip and looked around. She loved it and it would make the most amazing house once the wildlife and the ghost had been cleared out. The house was begging to be renovated.
‘Yes, please. I would so much love to live here with you for the rest of our lives.’
This time it was Will’s turn to kiss her and as he pulled her close she thought she heard that high-pitched scratching again but she blocked it out. Sending a message to whomever it was that she would deal with them when the time was right and she was ready, she leant forward, kissing Will back.
‘Eek, I’m so excited to live here I’d live in a caravan in the grounds until it’s ready if we have to.’
Will laughed. ‘If we have to, we can stay with my dad and Lily. I’m not too keen on caravans. Wait until you see the back garden; there’s an orchard full of fruit trees and over an acre of pasture land, so if you ever fancied owning a horse, now’s your chance.’
‘I’ve never really been the horsey type but I might agree to some chickens and a potbellied pig.’
They went out and as Will locked the front door Annie saw a shadow pass over the bedroom window they had just been looking out of. She looked up and strained her eyes but there was no one there, or so she hoped because she didn’t want to have her chance of a happy ever after spoiled by some restless spirit.
Chapter Four (#ulink_25d0b00a-dd70-5254-863e-a154ed25c393)
Annie had promised Lily she would call in on her way home from work to meet the new housekeeper that Tom had agreed to before they had let him leave the hospital. Tom had accused Will and Lily of blackmail but eventually he had said yes. He had told Will when they were alone that he’d only put up a fight because he didn’t want Lily to think he didn’t think she could cope. Tom and Will both knew quite well that she could cope but Tom wanted to be able to spend as much time with Lily as he could without her worrying about the cleaning or shopping.
Annie parked out the front of their house and sighed. It didn’t matter how many times she visited, she just couldn’t believe that someone could live in a place so beautiful, although the cottage that she and Will had just signed the contract for would one day look beautiful too, just not on such a grand scale. She walked up the stone steps and patted one of the stone lions that flanked the front door on the head. It was force of habit and one which tickled Will every time he saw her do it but he’d never teased her about it—well, not much. She rang the doorbell and waited patiently instead of using the key Lily had insisted she have in case she ever needed somewhere to hide and they weren’t in.
The door opened and Annie was surprised to see a woman around the same age as she was; she had envisaged an older woman wearing a black and white maid’s uniform opening the door. This tall blonde woman had a pair of black three-quarter jeans on, a black T-shirt and a duster in one hand and tin of polish in the other.
‘Hello, you must be Amelia. My name is Annie. I’m Tom’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law.’
The woman’s mouth formed a smile but it never quite reached her eyes. ‘Yes, I am, I’ve heard a lot about you, Annie.’
She stepped to one side to let Annie pass. The way she looked at her made her feel uneasy.
‘They’re in the library.’
And then she walked away, back to whatever it was she was polishing, leaving Annie to it. Annie didn’t like her but had no idea why. She’d never seen her before in her life and wondered why she felt so strongly about the woman. She was blonde and pretty with a look of Laura, one of Will’s work colleagues who was now dead, so that might be why. Although she and Will had got over the almost one-night stand he never had with Laura it still plagued her on the odd occasion. She walked along the hall until she reached the library door and knocked. Tom’s voice told her to come in and she opened the door, surprised to see Tom sitting at the desk and Lily sitting on the chair. Annie walked over and bent down to kiss Tom’s cheek. She grinned at Lily.
‘How are you feeling today, Tom? I hope you’re being a model patient.’
‘I’d be a lot better if people would stop fussing over me.’
He looked at Lily when he spoke and she rolled her eyes at him. ‘You’re such a crank, Tom Ashworth; if I didn’t love you I wouldn’t want to be with you because you’re driving me mad, as well you know with all your moaning.’
Lily winked at Annie and left the room.
‘Sorry, Annie, we were just in the middle of a discussion and Lily was losing, badly. She’s such a sore loser.’
‘Ah, well, most women are. What’s up; is it anything I can help with?’
‘Not really.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Lily doesn’t like our new housekeeper; she wants me to tell her we don’t require her services any more. I’ve told her she’s staying until I don’t need someone to run around after me and then she can do whatever she wants with her. I mean, we don’t know the girl and you can’t sack someone for giving off bad vibes, can you? Not that I can sense any, but super sleuth Lily can.’
Annie laughed. ‘You do know that a woman is nearly always right, don’t you, Tom, even when they’re not?’
‘I do—I’ve learnt that the hard way—but I also know when a woman needs a hand and Lily is too proud to ask for help so I’ve had to take the lead. She’ll get over it. I think she was expecting Mrs Doubtfire to walk in and take over the cleaning.’
He began to laugh and Annie joined him; it was the best sound she’d heard in ages. He was definitely on the mend.
Lily came back in with a tray filled with cups, saucers and a cafetière of fresh coffee. ‘Has he told you what I think?’
Annie nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, what do you think?’
‘Ah, this has nothing to do with me so I’ll keep out of it if you don’t mind. It’s still early days. You can see how it’s going in a couple of weeks and then decide.’
Tom looked at his wife. ‘See? The voice of reason. Listen to the nice police officer; she talks very good sense.’
Lily poked Tom in the ribs then bent down and kissed his head. ‘You drive me mad, Tom.’
‘Yes, I suppose I do but you love me all the same.’
They changed the conversation to Apple Tree Cottage and what Tom thought of the plans they’d had drawn up by Jake’s partner Alex, who was an architect.
‘It’s a lovely old place; I think you and Will are going to be very happy in there. Now, how long do I have to practise lifting a glass to my lips without spilling a single drop of champagne at your wedding reception?’
‘Eight weeks—I can’t believe how fast it’s coming around. I’m so glad I have you to help with the planning, Lily, because I really haven’t got a clue.’
At the mention of the wedding Lily’s face brightened and a smile spread across it. Tom winked at Annie and sat quietly, listening to the plans Lily had to turn their back garden into a romantic fairy tale grotto. If it kept Lily happy it meant he was happy and he nodded along as the two women chatted about dresses, menus, guests and cake.
After an hour Annie stood up. ‘Sorry, I need to get going; Will has promised that he’ll be home in time for tea tonight so I want to be there to photograph the occasion.’
Tom laughed. ‘I never knew that two men could be so lucky to find such amazing women.’
Annie kissed them both. ‘I’ll let myself out.’
She walked to the door and opened it, surprised to see Amelia standing on the other side, her cheeks burning. She nodded at her and then walked to the front door and let herself out. There was definitely something she didn’t like about that woman and she hoped it wouldn’t turn into something bad.
***
Will walked through the front door as promised at ten past six and Annie pretended to faint.
‘Ha ha, very funny. Jake’s on his way. Apparently he and Alex have something they want to tell you and it can’t be done over the phone; it has to be done in person.’
‘What is it; did he say?’
‘Nope, it’s top secret; you have to be the first to know, before anyone else.’
‘I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. I called to see your dad on my way home; he looks so much better and he was very chatty. Lily is pissed off with him, though, about that Amelia.’
‘Ah, yes, the ice queen. She’s a funny woman. She didn’t crack a smile once when I was joking with her the other day. In fact she wouldn’t even look at me, apart from the odd sneaky glance. I’ll have to tell Stu that I’ve finally found a woman who doesn’t find me irresistible.’
‘That’s so vain, Will; I can’t believe you just said that. But yes, I suppose there are some women who won’t find you their type. Lesbians for one.’
‘You’re just jealous, Annie.’
He dodged the slap she aimed for his arm and grabbed hold of her, pulling her towards him. ‘But I only have eyes for you.’
‘Good, I’m glad about that because I can’t live without you. So what’s happening in the high profile world of CID this week—anything exciting?’
‘Not much, thank God. My department has had more excitement in two years than it has in the last twenty. Just the same old stuff really; the most exciting thing to happen this week was someone had their already broken petrol generator stolen from their shed by someone they already knew and identified.’
There was a loud knock on the door and Will opened it to see a beaming Jake and Alex standing on the other side. Jake was holding a bottle of champagne and offered it to Annie.
‘To what do we owe this pleasure?’
Jake stepped in, followed by Alex.
‘We wanted you to be the first to know. We’re going to be parents.’
Annie threw her arms around Jake, squeezing him tight and then Alex. ‘Aw, congratulations, but if you don’t mind me asking, how?’
Will stepped forward to shake their hands. ‘Congratulations, guys.’
Jake followed Annie into the kitchen. ‘What do you think—we kept it quiet, eh?’
‘You certainly did—have you found someone to be a surrogate?’
‘Oh, God, no, there are so many kids out there who need loving homes we put our names down to adopt last year and have been going through the process for months now. This morning we got told that a three-month-old baby girl needed a home sooner rather than later. I can’t wait! I never thought I’d say this but I guess looking after you has made me broody.’
Annie stared at him. ‘What are you trying to say—that I’m like some big kid?’
Alex pulled a face at Will and the pair of them began talking about the latest football results, neither of them wanting to get involved.
‘Of course not, Annie, but I do get to babysit you a lot and I’m just saying it made me realise how much I like taking care of people.’
Annie kept her temper in check, not wanting to spoil what was obviously an important day for both of them, but Jake had a knack of putting his size twelve feet in his mouth without thinking almost every time he opened it.
‘That’s okay then. I’ll let you off and I suppose that you are a very good babysitter.’
The tension in the room dissipated and Will felt his shoulders relax. He popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured it into the four glasses he had just taken from the cupboard, handing Alex one first.
He downed it and smiled. ‘You have such a way with words, Jake, I’m surprised anyone even bothers speaking to you most of the time.’
‘I do, Alex; it’s like a gift from the gods.’
This made all four of them laugh. You couldn’t stay mad at Jake – well, not for very long. Annie wondered if she would ever have such news to tell her friends and, judging by the look on Will’s face, she thought that one day she might. He was looking very wistful into his champagne glass.
‘Here’s to Jake and Alex, who are going to be amazing parents.’
Will toasted them and then downed his drink as well.
1782
Betsy didn’t watch the cart which brought her mother’s coffin to the front door; she didn’t want to see it. Mrs Whitman had been the village’s local layer of the dead for years and had gone in to wash and dress her mother in her Sunday best, ready to be laid into the coffin. The funeral was not for another three days but she felt as if she had already outstayed her welcome here, at the Whitmans’ house; tonight she must go back home and sleep in her own bed. She was tired and hoped this would make her sleep and forget the fact that her mother’s body was lying downstairs, slowly rotting away. She wasn’t sure whether it was guilt she’d felt or relief when the doctor had said she had bled to death from a burst blood vessel and there was nothing Betsy could have done to stop it. She had thanked him, knowing fine well it was nothing of the sort, but she didn’t want him to suspect her of any wrongdoing. Mrs Whitman and two of her mother’s friends had been in and cleaned the house from top to bottom, ready for Betsy to go home. They had offered to go back in with her but she had told them, ‘No, thank you.’ They had done more than enough.
It was dusk by the time they had finished and Betsy said goodbye to them as they sat around Mrs Whitman’s small kitchen table drinking tea. She went to her own house and paused at the front door; on the step was a bunch of freshly picked meadow flowers and a note. Bending to pick them up, she smiled to see Joss’s name on the note. How sweet of him to have taken the time to bring them. Forgetting all about her deadly crime, she went into the house and over to the sink where, on the kitchen windowsill, there was a glass jar. Joss was so tall and handsome; he had such a sweet smile. Her mother had rarely smiled at Betsy, even as a child, whereas Joss grinned the moment he saw her, making her feel special. No one had made her feel like that since her father had died and she liked it.
Humming to herself, she filled the jar with water and put the flowers inside. Turning to put them on her small kitchen table, she gasped when she heard a groan come from behind the curtain where her mother’s bed was. Her fingers slipping on the wet glass, she almost dropped the jar, just managing to put it down before it fell to the floor and smashed into a million pieces. She stood still, her head cocked to the side, listening for the sound again. It was dark in the cramped room and she really needed to light some candles but she was afraid to move. Behind the curtain, she could see the outline of the wooden coffin containing her mother’s corpse. How could this be—had she not been told herself that the woman was dead? The doctor had said that she was dead—maybe she had just been in a deep sleep and not dead at all. Betsy did not dare to move and stood there waiting, but there was no more noise so she convinced herself it had been her imagination then set about washing her hands and lighting candles. The curtain was drawn and there was no way on this earth she would open it and look at her mother’s cold body. Mrs Whitman had placed fresh flowers around the kitchen and the sweet fragrance filled the air. Betsy took a candle and made her way up the stairs, as far away from the coffin as she could get.
Upstairs, she changed into her white cotton nightdress and climbed into the cold bed; she settled herself down and pulled the soft blanket up to her face. Her eyelids felt so heavy, she was glad for small mercies and leant across to the wooden bedside table and blew out the candle. She closed her eyes at the same time so she did not have to see the shadows which filled the corners of her room. Within no time at all she was asleep, too tired to dream.
The next thing she knew, the clock in the kitchen chimed three and Betsy opened her eyes; she had been restless for the last half an hour, too tired to wake up, but then she heard the scraping noise. This was different to the mice she could sometimes hear scurrying around up in the attic; it was much heavier, as if someone was moving a piece of furniture around downstairs. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she realised that someone was in her house. The sharp sound of breaking glass made her flinch. Scared beyond anything she had ever felt in her life, she summoned the courage to get out of bed to go and see who it was. She felt around for the candle and managed to light it on the third attempt. Who would be so disrespectful to break into her home with her mother’s dead body still inside? Opening her bedroom door, she took a step forward onto the small landing and froze. The dragging sound was approaching the stairs and every hair on her arms began to stand on end.
‘Who’s there?’ Her voice wavered and she did not feel very brave as whatever it was continued to move in her direction.
‘I will scream if you come near me. Get out of this house at once before I open the window and scream until everyone in the village comes running to see what is happening.’
There was no reply but the dragging sound ceased. Betsy began to breathe a little slower. Whoever it was had gone, scared at her threats. She would give them time to leave the house and then she would go down to see what they had been doing. There were some rascals in the village but she did not think any of them would be so low as to come into her house when she was all alone in the middle of the night. She counted to one hundred and was about to step forward when the dragging started again, this time quicker and in the direction of the stairs. Terrified, she stepped back then turned to run into her bedroom, but as she turned she caught a glimpse of the figure that was now at the bottom of the stairs. It was almost bent double, wearing her mother’s funeral clothes. She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut, throwing her back against it, and began to scream.
It was Seth, Mrs Whitman’s son, who came to see what was happening. He hammered on the front door and she ran to the bedroom window and leant out.
He looked up at her. ‘Blimey, Betsy, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. What’s the matter with you? Screaming loud enough to wake the dead up yonder in the churchyard!’
