Scared to Death

The path was long and winding. “It has to be just around this corner” I offered, but I had thought that at least five times in the last twenty minutes..

It was growing dark and shadows lengthened across the dirt road from, thick trees growing on either side. Long spindly branches were waving us on, pointing us in the direction that we should go. Not a difficult task seeing as this was the only road for miles.

Grasses swayed in the wind, the unlucky ones squashed as the tyres ran over them.

Tim put the high beam on and a grey rabbit ran across the road, jumping for his life as he reached the other side. “We could have had him for supper” Tim joked.

I pulled my cardigan around me as a chill sent a shiver into my bones. “I want to put my window right up but I’m starting to feel a bit sick. I need fresh air. My head is throbbing. I really need to eat” I told my husband. He handed me a packet of dried crackers that we had been eating earlier and I started to munch.

“It shouldn’t be long now. By my reckoning it’s about another seven miles down this track”. He had pulled over to the side of the road and taken out the mud map we were following. “We should be coming up to a big gate any time soon. It says ‘huge padlock with key hanging on the right hand side of the gate’. After we go through the gate we are virtually there”. He folded the piece of paper up and put it back in his top pocket.

The old car banged up and down on the rutted last section of the road. The box that we had packed with essentials for the trip jumped up and down, almost hitting the roof at one stage. “Watch out for the big rocks” I told Tim as I rubbed my side that had banged against the car door. I had been sitting in the car for such an long time - bored - and was at the stage of getting really frustrated and angry. If I could read in the car it would have been helpful but I had always suffered from car sickness as a child. If we went on a family trip I had to have a bucket and flannel next to me in the car. My mum would give me a barley sugar to suck every now and then – I don’t think they helped but were sweet so I said they did.

“It’s not my fault the road’s bumpy. I noticed you didn’t offer to drive. I’ve had enough too you know” he told me raising his usually calm voice.

I knew that he was ‘at the end of his tether’ and thought I’d better not push it any more. It was the flat tyre that we had to change, or as Tim would remind me later, HE had to change, that had us arriving in the dark and later than anticipated.

“Here’s the gate”. He slowed down the car and put it in park. Outside was black. A glimmer of light flickered from a huge cloud up above – the moon was hiding behind it, every now and then peeping out to see what we were doing.

“I’ll get the key and open it” I offered, thinking that this would sweeten

Tim’s annoyance with me for moaning about the trip during this last leg. I slid out of my seat and onto the dirt. A big rusted metal gate stood directly in front of the car. On either side of it stretched a fence. I couldn’t really see how far it stretched but presumed a long way if we had to open a gate to get through.

“Here Abbey, take the torch to find the key”. I grabbed the torch from his outstretched arm, through the window, the light from it so bright it cut through the darkness like a beacon. The key was exactly where the note said we would find it so I opened the gate and stood there in the cold air while Tim guided the car through. I kept looking around – having thoughts of wild animals jumping out from behind the trees and attacking me. After locking the gate up – goodness knows why as I  didn’t think there would be any visitors tonight! – I hopped very quickly back into the car and we started off again.

“There it is” Tim said pointing to a dark shape further down the road. “There’s the old manor”. He had excitement in his voice and this seemed to press his foot further to the floor – driving quickly in anticipation of what we would find.

As we drew closer to the building, I thought about how isolated it seemed. The old house looked lonely where it stood. The wind was blowing strongly, moving the tall dark shapes in front of the house back and forth. They were trees of some sort but I couldn’t make out exactly what type they were. We stopped the car and stepped out. Tim was eager to go inside. I was and I wasn’t. “Come on. We’ll get the luggage after”.

He had a bunch of keys in his hand that were given to him after the reading of the Will. A piece of wood with a single key attached to it read ‘front door’ so Tim put it into the key hole and opened the thick, dark wooden door. It reminded me of a medieval fort – I’d seen movies with old castles and forts with doors like this one. I felt nervous and a bit scared. I had never liked the dark and had the same feeling of dread that I used to have when I was left at home on my own as a child at night. I told myself that I was now an adult and standing next to me was my brave husband – well braver than me anyway.

I could now see that to the right of the door stood a weeping juniper tree. The grey branches were drooping down as if sad and in mourning. Wisteria intertwined with the Juniper, purple bunches of flowers blowing about frantically. Tim pushed open the door – it was heavy and creaked - and we stepped inside. The vastness of the space shocked me and I couldn’t take it all in at first.  “I can’t believe this is yours Tim. It’s as if we’re in a movie and the director is going to call out ‘cut’ any moment. Is it really yours, ours?”  I thought of the little place we had left behind – and suddenly felt overwhelmed but excited at the same time.

“Yes, it’s all ours. That’s what the Will said”.

A sharp wind blew through the front door and light frayed curtains danced across the windows that were in the hall. As the moon light shone through, our silhouettes stretched up the wall – long and thin, faceless shapes. “Why don’t we try the lights?” I asked, realising that the torch was our only form of meagre lighting. I wanted to see what there was in the hall and then the rest of the house.

“Where are the light switches I wonder?” Tim said out loud while wandering from one side to the other and shining the torch along the walls. I walked with him as I didn’t want to be left on my own. “Oh here we are” and he pushed down the switch that was quite high on the wall. Up above us a decorative light lit up. It looked like it was made of crystal and sparkled as it moved about. Not all the light bulbs that seemed to sit right on the end of ‘branches’, were working, but it was sufficient for us to look around and see where we were going.

A loud bang sounded from outside and I jumped, feeling petrified at the thought of what might be coming through the front door. “What was that Tim?” I yelled as I clutched at his arm, a bit too roughly. It wasn’t as if he would have the answer but he might have an idea. “Shut the door. I want the door shut…please”.

“It’s ok Abbey. Calm down. It’s just the wind” he said reassuringly as he put his arm around me. “It’s probably just something loose blowing around outside. I’ll lock the car and shut the door though if it makes you feel any better”.

A little way down the hall was the kitchen.  With two massive ovens, an oversized pantry and what I assumed was an even bigger larder in the room, it still looked empty.  White stone walls were in good condition and it only looked like what was needed was a thorough scrub. They were lumpy to touch and so cool. On a hot day it would be ideal to sit on the floor and press your face against the icy walls.  The floors echoed when you walked on them – my small heels banging every time I put my feet down, the cold from the stone underfoot coming through. A few cobwebs hung down in the dark corners from the ceiling and a thick film of dust along the benches and window ledges.

“This door has a bolt and a lock on it Tim. Do you have any small keys that would open it?” I asked, pulling at the lock, intrigued and apprehensive as to what could be behind the door. I bent down to look through the key hole but it was too dark to see anything.

“No, there aren’t any keys small enough to fit a lock like that one. This door is the same. In fact they all seem to be locked. Tim rattled the bunch of keys he had in his hand. “Goodness knows what all of these open”.

Suddenly the lights flickered. They stayed off for a minute or two before coming back on. It startled me and I ran over to Tim. “This place is giving me the willies. I really don’t like it here. There’s just something about it. Honestly Tim I don’t think I want to stay here” I wailed, shaking a little and just wanting to run outside.

“Look Abbey we’re only here for two weeks to get a feel for the place, see what’s here and think about what we’ll do with it. We’re both tired, it’s been a long trip and this house, he said pointing to the manor, couldn’t be any further from what we’re used to.  It’s just a big old house – there’s nothing to worry about and you’ll probably think differently in the morning”.

I still wasn’t convinced. I had an ill feeling, and felt very nervous, but didn’t know why. And what gave Tim the idea I would be sleeping tonight!

We walked up the wide wooden stairs. The balustrades were carved on each side – they twisted round like a snake at the end – an open mouthed serpent. The red and gold flecked carpet in the middle of the stairs was well worn and threadbare in spots. ‘How fancy are the bannisters Tim?” I mused, and “Who could be bothered walking up and down these stairs

 all day?” At the top of the stairs a solid brass chandelier hung down, six arms making a ‘U’ shape reached out of the centre pointing upwards.  Globes sat in the end of each arm. Underneath the centre a solid brass ball hung and from this six large crystals dangled.

“Look at the light fitting! This alone must be worth a fortune”. ‘You wouldn’t want that to fall on you’ I thought, practically. He agreed but was still pondering why most of the doors were locked and why there were no keys to open them.

“I’ll have to ask the solicitor is he knows anything about the keys when we get back. We can’t ask my Great Uncle now – unless we hold a séance!

‘Our’ bedroom was cold. A four poster bed sat majestically in the middle of the room surrounded by thick brocade curtains. I wondered how much dust they held and how my hay fever was going to cope. On the other side of the room was a bay window. Peeling white paint hung off the frame and the lace curtains that were tied at the sides like pigtails on a school girl were grey. As I peered through the tall window I thought I saw a light, as if someone had switched a torch on and then off very quickly. ‘Seeing things again’ I told myself, trying to believe it, feeling the nerves jingling in my stomach. I stood at the window for ages and hadn’t realised I was on my own. “Tim” I called out loudly rushing through the door, eager to find him. With no reply I bolted down the stairs, trying two at a time but realising after four stairs that they were too wide and I would probably fall and break a leg, so went back to just one stair at a time.

As I reached the bottom, Tim came puffing loudly through the front door carrying one of our heavy boxes. “Oh there you are Tim. I didn’t know where you were. When I looked out of the window upstairs I saw a light and felt nervous, but that must have been you outside with the torch on” I babbled.

“I thought I’d better start getting the stuff out of the car – we need something to eat and to put our sheets on the bed. It’s getting late and we’re both whacked. And actually you were the last one with the torch Abbey. I haven’t got it but I do need it. I’ll have to find the meter box and put the switch on for the water to heat up. I think we need showers”.

When the boxes and our cases were finally inside the house we locked both the car and the front door. I made Tim bolt the door too. He told me that nothing or no one could get through that door, but he did it anyway – just to keep me happy.

The lights were flickering intermittently, but I was assured by Tim that it was just a loose connection. Well he was the tradesman – not me.

Tim had hooked up the tiny fridge we brought with us and we put our meagre supplies into it. After making toasted sandwiches in our trusty appliance and having a hot cup of tea with them we felt a lot better. It was still howling a gale outside and somewhere the wind whistled through the eaves or a half shut window and into the house, sounding like an old man wheezing loudly.

 We had both showered in the freezing bathroom. The broken window invited the cold air in and this together with the very loud water hammer didn’t make for a relaxing shower. At least we had washed the dust and grime off ourselves, and after then making the bed, we crawled in. “Tim I am so scared in this house” I told him as we lay in the big bed. “I don’t know why” was his reply.

I hated being cocooned by heavy brocade drapes. I felt claustrophobic and if I could have I would have ripped them down. I had opened the window to let fresh air in but as the old curtains blew around like grey ghosts dancing I felt the need to shut it again. I had the ‘found’ torch safely tucked under my pillow. It was switched on, light shining through the material into the dark surrounds. “What was that noise? Tim did you hear it? I think it was inside this time. Will you look around?” My heart was beating rapidly and my breath was coming in short bursts. I was telling myself to relax and don’t be stupid. I nudged Tim in his side but the only response I got was a guttural snoring sound and then the automatic ‘turning over to the other side’ gesture that meant ‘don’t bother me’. I knew I had to shut the window. I nervously threw back the cover and put my feet into my slippers, and with the torch walked over to the swirling curtains, pulling the heavy window down I clipped the half-moon shaped lock. Turning off the torch I stared out of the window. A hundred black shapes danced to the sound of the wind. The moon had permanently hidden behind a cloud and I found myself staring so hard into the dark that tiny coloured flecks of light appeared, and then they were gone. Then I heard it.

I stood paralysed with fear, listening to the sound. My legs wouldn’t move, they were jelly like, wobbling but not moving. Sound wouldn’t come out of my mouth –as if my voice box had disappeared. I tried desperately to switch the torch on but my sweaty fingers couldn’t grip, the thud of the falling torch resonating all around the room. Perspiration ran into my eyes but I felt so cold. Whoever or whatever it was clunking up the wide staircase was getting closer with every step. Why couldn’t Tim hear it? I willed him to wake up and save me. My eyes wouldn’t leave the doorway – I knew something terrible would appear and I couldn’t stop it.

When the noise ceased I knew the time had come. I could just make out a dark shape filling the doorway – I couldn’t tell if it was human or not, but I could see a long knife at the right hand side. I sucked in as much air as I could and tried to scream, but no sound came. The feeling of dread I had known since arriving at the manor enveloped me and then as it floated away and I felt peace.