The Haunting Within (4 page)

10

They found themselves back in the house they had vowed never to step foot inside again. They were all surprised and eerily aware that nothing had actually changed in the manor since they were last there. It was like waking from a nightmare, sweaty and scared, but so very relieved to be out of it, hoping you would drift back off into a nice peaceful sleep only to find that as soon as you close your eyes you were back in the very same nightmare again, running from the very thing that had frightened you so much that it caused you to scream yourself awake. Up until now they had been successful in putting the past behind them, but now as they stood in the entrance hall of the house where all their greatest fears were homed, it became painfully obvious to each of them that they would never truly forget that day. Mr. Leeson interrupted their thoughts as he came to stand before them.

“Like I said, I’m sorry for the inconvenience this trip has caused you. I would like to discuss with you why you are here.”

Debbie saw her children give the man a confused frown and then exchange glances. Aiden had immediately taken a dislike to the self-assured man with the lifeless eyes and the over pronunciation of his voice. He sounded nasally and irritating. He asked to speak to Debbie in private, so she followed him into the living room, leaving Lisa and Aiden stood near the open front doors, looking as if they were ready to make a run for it. She looked back over her shoulder at them and gave them what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but felt like it was more of an apologetic grimace.

“I do apologize for this whole situation Mrs. Adams, but you were down as Mr. Hendry’s next of kin and I am under specific orders from your father to give you the keys and the legal documentation for this house.” He finished with a smile that over the years he had perfected to a fine art. He knew how most people felt about solicitors so he had always tried his hardest to be as charming as he possibly could when around his clients. Of course, there were times when it didn’t work and his true coldness came through, hence the fact he was single, and very well off indeed. He was a shrewd businessman who did things only for the purpose of benefiting himself. It was on very rare occasions that other people entered into his feelings. He was far too obnoxious to realize that most people saw him for what he really was.

There was a time when he had almost been married. It was nearly twelve years ago when he was in the prime of his life, a mere twenty-six year old law graduate. He had been seeing a girl called Susie for two years and they were planning the last minute details of their upcoming wedding when he produced some documents from his briefcase. When he placed them in front of Susie and asked her to sign them she ripped them up and threw her ring back at him. They had never spoken again. He couldn’t understand why she would be so difficult. He was only asking her to sign a pre-nuptial agreement stating that, in the event of a divorce she would not be entitled to any of his assets. Oh, he knew how women worked, or so he thought. A lot of years and sheer hard work had gone into his eventual graduation and new job as a lawyer in the biggest firm in the city and he wasn’t prepared to take a chance that may mean he would lose half of his well-earned money. He had a fantastic business mind, a fresh face on his way up and he was going to be the best in the business, a name that would be remembered for years after his demise. If only he had understood his wife-to-be as well as he understood the ins and outs of the legal system. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to go home to his luxurious apartment and eat his rich food and drink his expensive red wine alone every night. He told himself he didn’t need anything more in his life than his money and he truly believed that. His colleague thought of his existence as sad but he thought of it as his dream come true. If he wanted a woman then he paid for one. At least that way he didn’t have to pretend to be interested in small talk and, more importantly, he didn’t have to share any of his wealth. His life suited him just fine. It was a good job too as he could only attract the attention of the women he paid for, although he didn’t see it like that. He believed every woman looked admiringly at him in his expensive clothes and ridiculously expensive car.

“What do you mean? So you’re saying this house is ours” Debbie’s voice broke into his reverie. She was becoming even more perplexed by the second but trying to keep her voice down for fear her children would hear them talking.

“That certainly is what I’m telling you” replied Mr. Leeson waiting for the joy to become apparent on her face. However she looked completely confused by this so he added “In your fathers’ will Mrs. Adams, it states that you are to get the house upon his death.”

“What do you mean upon his death? Are you telling me my father is dead?”

As the last word hung in the air like a bad smell, all at once it dawned on Mr. Leeson why she was so confused. He suddenly became aware of his burning cheeks and he wanted the floor to open up. His smart, expensive suit and his gold rimmed glasses that he
insisted
on wearing perched ridiculously on the very end of his long slender and somewhat feminine nose, and his expensive gold watch didn’t seem to give him the confidence they usually did. He felt nervous; his throat dry and itching as he stood in front of this lady whose eyes seemed to burn through to his very being.

His throat worked up and down but no sound came out. He shuffled his feet a little as he tried to regain his composure. The successful lawyer was back! “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry, I thought you would have been contacted and told. I’m afraid that is what I’m telling you, yes. Your father died five days ago. He had a heart attack. His cleaner found him.” his patronizing tone was not lost on her. He gave her his most sympathetic look and waited for the news of Mr. Hendry’s death to sink in. Debbie shook her head.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” she asked. 

“No joke. Not at all. I understand how difficult this must be for you.” Leeson replied with an amount of compassion that shocked him. For a split second he thought he really did know how hard this was for them. Mentally shaking it off, he reverted back to his fakeness once more.

“I don’t think you do” answered Debbie with venom dripping in her voice, becoming increasingly angry at this stupid, poor excuse for a man standing in front of her. “You see, you’re asking me to believe that he’s dead when both I and my daughter have just seen him looking out of an upstairs window at us.”

“I can assure you that this is no joke. Let me show you his death certificate.” He said whilst rummaging through his black leather brief-case. He was ruffled. There was no denying that. Why hadn’t someone contacted her? This was a first for him. He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, not because he cared but because he didn’t want to witness any human emotion he himself was incapable of feeling. He volunteered the death certificate and a copy of the notes from the police officer who found him for Debbie to read. They had been left in his care until a time when he could hand them over to Mr. Hendry’s next of kin. She tentatively took the documents from his hands, too scared to believe in case it all came crashing down around her. It explained how he was found in the old part of the house which was once used as a psychiatric hospital, in the room once used as a treatment room, or so it read. He was found laid out on an old piece of equipment used to secure patients.

11

Once Debbie had seen the certificate she admitted to the strange man before her it could have been one of her father’s employees seen at the window.

“That isn’t possible Mrs. Adams, your father had no employees, apart from the cleaner who has left and returned to her home in Cheshire.”

“So I’m seeing things now Mr.…?” the question hung in the air.             

“Leeson” he offered with a smile. “Not at all. I just think that maybe what you saw was a reflection from the sun on the window.” He just wanted to leave now. He was uncomfortably aware that his heart was pulsing so fast he thought it might run out of energy and stop beating altogether. He nervously smoothed down his already-perfect hair with a trembling hand.

Out in the hall Lisa and Aiden waited nervously. The house was incredibly quiet, but still they could not hear what was being said in the other room. Starting to get worried Aiden approached the door, about to knock to make sure everything was ok when it opened before him and his mum and the slimy solicitor stepped out. Their mum said nothing to them, just showed Mr. Leeson to the door, thanked him and closed it quietly behind him. Turning she observed her children, not sure whether laughing would be appropriate.             

12

Mr. Leeson got into his shiny silver sports car (which he refused to admit was much too young for a man of his advancing age) and wondered if he would receive a phone call from the woman with a good figure, but haunting eyes. He had left her his mobile and office number, telling her if there was anything he could do for her (and he did mean anything in a literal sense for she was a looker) just to give him a call. As much as he appreciated her beauty he couldn’t wait to drive out of the gates and get as far away from this place as possible. He hoped he would never see it again. They could be good together though. He already had enough money to live how he wanted but with the money she was due to make on the manor house if she sold it he would be laughing. He couldn’t help wondering why she showed no emotion towards his client’s death. He had always found him to be nice enough, if a little old fashioned.

He recalled when he waited for them to arrive. In that big old house all alone he felt nervous. He had heard numerous creaks and groans which he knew were to be expected in such a large old house, but it wasn’t so much the noises that had bothered him. The house just didn’t feel right. It had a very oppressing atmosphere and he didn’t like it one bit. As he was walking around when he first got there he felt as though he was being followed and when he reached the door beyond the kitchen that he could not open (and in a way was pleased he couldn’t open it) he felt like someone or something had brushed by him. Thankfully, that was when he heard the car pull up in the drive. He shivered involuntary at the thought and shifted uncomfortably in the plush leather seat of his six month old car that he had to have as soon as he saw it in the window of the dealership. Undaunted by the huge price tag as he could easily afford it, he purchased it immediately under the false belief he would attract the attention of the right sort from females. He had bet if her daughter had seen him in it he would be taking her for a ride right now. Yes, the mum was nice, but the daughter was young and pert. He wouldn’t say no. Driving home from the dealership in his brand new sports car he soon realized it didn't attract the admiring glances he was expecting. People around here were too prudish and set in their ways. He knew if he wanted to get on in the world then London was the place for him.

They watched from the front window as Mr. Leeson neared the end of the drive. Just as he was about to drive down the long lane leading to the grounds gates and out onto the country road, he looked back one last time, hoping the mother and daughter were admiring him and his car, and as he did, he thought he saw someone looking at him from an upstairs window. He glanced away before he registered what he was seeing and then slowed his car to have another look. He felt his insides churning as he prepared to face the old house again. He really didn’t want to look and told himself what did it matter anyway? He didn’t have to go back there again. If the ladies wanted to meet up they could meet somewhere else. He tried to shake the curiosity away but it was like a magnet was turning his head in the direction of the stone building, like whatever he saw wanted him to see again. With great trepidation he turned his head and kept his eyes fixed on the house. To his enormous relief he saw nothing in any of the windows.

He let out a sigh and chuckled to himself. “Jesus Christ Leeson, what the fucks the matter with you. Getting spooked by an old house!”

As he finally drove out of the grounds and turned onto the country lane with large elm trees lining either side that were probably older than the house, he began to think rationally again. It seemed like the house had taken control of him, or at least his thoughts.

“First thinking there were ghosts in the house and thinking I saw one. I don’t know, I must be going crazy.”

He was aware of both the fact that he said that out loud and also of the awful irony that he had just left a place that once was a mental asylum. As he pushed that thought to the back of his mind he understood why the mother and daughter had thought they’d seen Mr. Hendry in the upstairs window, after all he thought he had as well. It was a horrible feeling and he wiped it from his mind as quickly as he wiped the sweat from the palms of his hands onto his expensive tailored trousers. The last thing he wanted was for his hand to slip from the gear stick and stall his beautiful new ride.

13

They entered the large old-fashioned kitchen and sat down at the rustic pine oval dining table which would be plenty big enough to fit eight people easily around it. They sat in stunned silence for a few minutes until Debbie rose and went over to the work-top, her sensible low-heeled shoes making a quiet, pleasant clacking sound on the stone floor. Almost any sound would have been pleasant to them at that moment in time, something just to break the eerie silence that engulfed the room and magnified the emptiness of the huge house. The silence seemed so loud. Lisa and Aiden watched as she filled the worn and rusted stainless steel kettle and put it on the hob of the large aga. On tip-toe she then rooted around in the creaky cupboards that were barely stocked, for three mugs and the coffee.

“I could do with something a bit stronger than that mum!” joked Aiden half-heartedly.

“You’re under age so you’ll have to make with this young man” Debbie said smiling at her son as she scalded him lovingly, pleased that the silence had been broken and some of the tension along with it. She made them all a cup of coffee and brought them over to the table where she placed one in front of each of them.

“I can’t believe he’s dead” said Lisa hacking away with a spoon at the hard lumpy sugar before stirring it into her coffee. The sugar had not been used for months by the look of it.

“I know! I don’t know what to feel. I don’t really feel anything but relief to tell you the truth.” Debbie told them. She actually felt guilty about this; after all, he was her father, well, biologically anyway. He had never been a father to her in all of her life she thought with an aching heart.

“What are we going to do about the house mum?” Debbie looked over her steaming coffee at her beautiful daughter, relishing the searing heat coming from the mug that covered her face giving her a not unpleasant sensation of prickly heat. It was the only thing so far that seemed remotely every-day to her.

“We’ll have to phone an estate agent and put it on the market. I don’t want it. It’s bad enough having to sit here now.” The kids agreed with her on that one. “I don’t know who would possibly want to buy this place though. It’s awful” she said as an afterthought. “But I suppose when people see the history of this house they might decide to use it for something else.”

Debbie knew that neither Aiden nor Lisa had any clue as to what she was talking about so she explained; “My father used to be a psychiatrist, had his own practice in Birmingham where he was born. He met my mother when she was there on a family holiday. She was just sixteen, he was twenty-nine and she fell madly in love with him.” Seeing the shock on the faces of her children Debbie insisted “Age didn’t matter so much back then. It wasn’t frowned upon like it is now. It was quite acceptable for a girl of sixteen to be married to an older man. He wasn’t always like you and I knew him otherwise my mother wouldn’t have given him the time of day. She was so beautiful and caring; she could have had any man she wanted. As it turned out she wanted him. They started dating, but when her family found out they made her choose; them or him. Of course she chose him. Her parents couldn’t get over the age gap so she left. They bought a small house near Liverpool and stayed there for three years. They didn’t have a lot of money or a lot of space in their home but they were happy. My father took a job at a local hospital and he earned enough to keep them going. They thought they were set up for a life in Liverpool until my father learned of his uncle who had passed away. He was a doctor and he owned this house. My father was the only living relative to him so he left him this place in his will. So my mother and father moved their lives here and as it was already pretty well set up as a surgery from when his uncle owned it, my father just adapted it a bit to make it a psychiatric hospital. My mother told me at first she didn’t like the idea of living here when it was a hospital for the insane but she got used to it and it was practical. It kind of killed two birds with one stone. They lived in this part, but through that door” she motioned to the heavy wooden door that stood solid and domineering at the end of the kitchen “is a passage that leads to the other part of the house were the patients lived.”

After a pause to take a sip from her coffee she continued with her story, all the while subconsciously twisting her hands round the mug as though trying to banish a chill from deep inside. “My father fell in love with the house. He never considered selling it. It has a rich history going back centuries. It used to be a courthouse and a prison at once stage. In the nineteenth century I think it was. I’m surprised my parents wanted to live here.” The thought of them living in the house gave Lisa a cold shiver that ran the length of her spine.

Pausing again to sip her coffee she gave them both a sad smile as she added “Those parts were never used. They’re locked off. Anyway,” she continued, wanting to finish what she started saying and be done with the whole subject “everything was going well for a few years until my father started to act strangely. I remember hearing him talking to my mother so horribly, which, she said he had never done in all their married life. She was so shocked she begged him to go see his doctor but he wouldn’t have it saying there was nothing wrong with him. She wanted to believe him but it became more difficult when he started being violent towards her. She was scared and so she kept quiet and tried to keep him happy. She read in one of his medical books about a person acting strangely may be suffering from a brain tumour. She was scared she would lose him so she kept making that excuse every time he did something to her. It went on like this for a while until things started happening to his patients. A lot of them were dying from causes that could not be explained.” She hesitated, not wanting to scare them but knowing she had to tell them.

Taking a deep breath Debbie continued. “They were found to have died from heart attacks even though the tests my father and his staff did showed no heart problems. No one knew what had caused their deaths so there was an investigation into it. They came up with nothing but because of that my father’s hospital was condemned and closed down. I think a lot of people suspected father for the deaths, but he was adamant it was not him who killed them. My mother believed him. She loved him, as if that was some kind of proof for her. If she loved him then he couldn’t have been responsible. What she seemed to forget is what he did to her and I know domestic abuse doesn’t mean he would be capable of murder but he was a very cruel man. Even if he had been allowed to keep his practice running I think he would have lost most, if not all of his patients. Their families would not have let them stay when their doctor, a murderer or not, had lost every ounce of respect from the community in which he was once an upstanding and extremely well liked member. Mother told me things happened that couldn’t be explained and as we know, we can all vouch for that.” They were nodding in agreement and before they had chance to think of what had gone on that day Debbie began speaking again. “She believed it was the unexplained occurrences that had terrified the patients to the point of heart attacks. She felt and heard things that she could find no rational explanation for. She wanted to move but my father said he wasn’t going anywhere. It was like the house had a hold on him. He loved this place, more than me or my mother it seemed. My mother used to tell me that he belonged here when I’d plead with her to leave. She said it would destroy my father if we left. I have always hated this house and I always will, but at least we can sell it. Maybe a doctor will see the potential and want it for a practice.” Debbie finished her coffee and got up from the table on shaky legs. Talking about
him
always seemed to take its toll on her and she realised how exhausted she was. Still, she had things to do. The house wouldn’t sell itself. She put her mug in the sink and headed out of the kitchen calling over her shoulder as she went that she was going to ring an estate agent.