Colton Manor (15 page)

“Do you know him?”
said Damien as a tall dark haired man wearing round glasses stepped out of the car. He looked to be in his early forties.

“No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“Hello,” he said, as he approached them with his hand outstretched. “My name is Father Sebastian. I was told there was a problem here and I thought I might be able to help. I hope I’m not too late.” He was very softy spoken and she had to lean in close to hear him properly.

“I’m Damien Knight, and this is Ursula,” said Damien as they both shook his hand.

He looked at their bruises and scrapes with curiosity.

“Y
ou are a bit late,” said Ursula. “We had what you might call a showdown with the ghost of Colton Manor, and I think we actually managed to get rid of him.” Father Sebastian studied the house for a long moment without speaking.

“Yes, t
here does seem to be a lot less paranormal energy than last time I was here. Maybe you’re right, but there is a chance he could come back. It’s not that easy to get rid of a ghost, especially one that’s been here as long as he has.”

“Thanks for coming over Father,” said Damien, “
but this really isn’t our problem anymore, and the sooner we get away from here the better.” Ursula could tell that he was struggling to keep an open mind, and that part of him wanted to dismiss the priest as a crackpot, even after everything he’d been through. She, on the other hand, was anxious to find out more.

“
You said you’ve been here before, was that to try and get rid of him?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’m a medium, although I don’t go telling too many people that. It doesn’t go down very well with the church. I’ve been trying for years to help Edward Stanton and his wives move on, and I felt like I was finally making some progress, but then the house was sold. The current owner wouldn’t let me come onto the property to continue my work, which was very frustrating as Edward was beginning to listen to me.”

“
How could you talk to someone like that? He is a monster with no conscience and no heart. All he ever did was accuse me of stealing his money and even of poisoning him. He’s insane.”

“You’ve actually hit the nail right on the head, Ursula. In life Stanton was a schizophrenic. He became lost in his own world of paranoia and delusions. He had moments of lucidity but they didn’t last long. Back then there was almost no awareness about mental illness and people just assumed those who suffered from it were possessed.”

“But
what about all the occult stuff? I saw him use an Ouija board down in the cellar with my own eyes.”

“That came after the illness.
The only people who would talk to him were those who practiced black magic because they believed he was in touch with the devil. They also stole all his money. By delving into the occult he opened himself up to malign forces which further exacerbated his illness. He really believed all three of his wives had stolen his money and tried kill him, and after he died he continued to exist in this state of paranoid delusion which kept them all trapped here.”

“Do you really think he’ll come back
?”

“I
hope not, but just to be sure I’d like to burn some sage around the house and sprinkle holy water in all the rooms, particularly in the cellar. It will discourage him from returning. I’d appreciate it if you’d come with me as it will be more effective if we’re all there.”

Damien
let out a snort of disbelief. “There’s no way in hell you’ll ever get me back down in that cellar. No way, and I won’t let Ursula go back down there either, not under any circumstances.”

Ursula shot him a look. “I can make up my own mind, thank you very much, but
I have to agree with Damien on this, I don’t want to go back down there ever again if I can help it. We were just leaving and it’s really the owner’s problem now.”

Father Sebastian
adjusted his glasses before he spoke, as if carefully considering his words. “I don’t want to scare you, but it’s in your interests to make sure he doesn’t come back. Because he’s had possession of you Damien there’s a chance he could try again, even when you’re not at the house.” Damien and Ursula exchanged a worried look.

“God, when you put it like that I can hardly say no
, but does Ursula have to come too?” said Damien.

“As I said, the more of us that take part in the clearing,
the better chance we have of making sure he leaves this plane for good.”

“Let’s do it then
and get it over with,” said Ursula, taking Damien’s hand and turning back towards the house she’d thought never to set foot in again. As they approached the front porch a gust of wind blew Ursula’s hair around her head wildly, and then the front door creaked and blew wide open.

“Did
n’t you lock the door?” she asked Damien, trying not to show how spooked she was by the noise it made as it bashed against the house.

“I thought I did.”

“At least he’s opening the door this time, not shutting us out. That has to be a good sign.”

The three of them
stayed close together as they burnt sage and sprinkled holy water in every room while Father Damien chanted something in another language which sounded like ancient Celtic. They left the cellar until last, and as they descended the stairs Ursula felt the familiar terror rise up in her throat. She grasped Damien’s hand tightly, and they quickly got to work sprinkling holy water in the dark, cobweb infested corners. Their job was over quickly, and they were walking back towards the stairs when the planchette which had fallen on the ground at the bottom of the stairs during her struggle with Edward Stanton, jumped into the air.

“Oh no, h
e’s still here,” said Ursula, her fear bubbling up in her chest. Would their ordeal ever be over?

“
I think it’s important that we see what he has to say,” said Father Sebastian, as he crouched down and picked up the Ouija board, setting it down the right way on the ground.

“Are you serious?” said Damien in disbelief. “Aren’t we just inviting him back in?”

“Not necessarily” said the priest, kneeling down and putting his finger on the planchette. “It might not even be him, or some healing may have taken place after what happened today, helping him to see things more clearly. What do you want to tell us?” he asked. The planchette moved across the board and came to rest on the word Goodbye, and then it was still. They all stood there, waiting for a long moment to see what else would happen, but the planchette remained in the same spot.

“
Is it Edward Stanton? What does it mean?” asked Damien when it was clear it wasn’t going to move again.

“I think
it means our work here is done,” replied Father Sebastian as he rose to his feet with a smile and brushed the dirt from his trousers. “And as Shakespeare said, all’s well that ends well.” He looked perplexed when Ursula and Damien both started laughing almost hysterically.

Epi
logue

Twelve months later
….

“As long as I live
I’ll never forget the look on Yvette’s face when we found her on the cellar floor. She hasn’t been the same since,” said Bonnie. “She’s never said a single word to me about that day, but she was very quick to put the house on the market.”

“I met the new owne
rs the other day actually,” replied Ursula, taking a sip of wine. “They came into the gallery and asked about buying my Spirit paintings. They were also very curious about the rumours about the house. I told them they were just stories and not to take any notice. I didn’t want to scare them out of their minds like you did with me, Bonnie.”

“Hey, I was only trying to help you
, and if I’d listened to Tom here and hadn’t stuck my nose in where it wasn’t wanted, you might never have met Damien. I know you guys got off to a rocky start but look at you now.”

“
The course of true love never did run smooth,” said Ursula, glancing at Damien with affection, “I suppose I can forgive you for introducing me to this man who was supposed to be just a holiday fling, but for some reason is still hanging around a year later.”

He smiled.
“What can I say, I’m like a bad rash that just won’t go away.”

The two couples were enjoying dinner on the veranda of Ursula and Damien’s new
beach house. Like Colton Manor it overlooked the ocean, but this was where the similarities ended. Their house was cosy and modern, with a welcoming ambience. It was a perfect home for them to start their new life together.

Ursula ha
d moved in a month earlier, at the same times as she’d opened a small art gallery in town to showcase her own work and that of her friends. She planned to divide her time between the gallery and her studies in business administration which she’d undertaken to help with the running of the gallery. Damien had convinced her that she needed to have something to fall back on besides her fine arts degree, and she’d finally accepted he was right. Her new-found maturity was also evident in her change of hair colour. Instead of bright pink and yellow she now sported much less flashy green and purple streaks.

S
ince she’d moved in with Damien the weather had been perfect, and she’d been deliriously happy. Sometimes she had to pinch herself just to make sure it was all real. Damien made her feel more loved and secure than she’d ever felt in her life, and she barely even thought about the gap in their ages. Her friends all loved him and she got on very well with his friends too, so it just didn’t seem important.

“You know, n
o matter how many times I hear this story about the ghosts at Colton Manor, I just can’t believe it,” said Tom. “I think you were all just victims of that thing they call mass hysteria.”

Damien
patted him on the shoulder. “Be very careful what you say, my friend. I once refused to accept that any of this stuff could be real, and I learnt the hard way that I was wrong. You don’t want to go through what I did, I can assure you.”

“
You believe what you want to believe, Damien, but until someone can prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that ghosts really exist I’ll continue to be a sceptic.”

“
Actually, I was talking to Father Sebastian the other day,” said Bonnie, “and he’s going to visit a haunted house next week. Maybe you should go with him.” Tom suddenly looked very unenthusiastic at the prospect and they all laughed at the expression on his face. “Seems you aren’t as much of a sceptic as you thought,” his wife teased.

“Hey, Ursula, did you say the
new owners of Colton Manor wanted to buy some of your paintings,” said Tom in an obvious effort to change the subject.

“Yes, they wanted to buy my Spirit
series, but I told them they’re not for sale.” Occupying pride of place in Ursula’s gallery where three large paintings, each one of a different woman. The most prominent painting in the middle showed a striking dark-haired lady with her dress billowing out and her hair streaming behind her in the wind. It was very similar to the picture she’d sketched at Colton Manor just after Bonnie had told her the rumours about this house. In that picture the woman had her mouth open as if she was screaming, but in this one she was smiling, and instead of falling she looked like she was flying. Ursula had called it “Freedom.”

Sometimes she still sensed
Anna’s spirit around her, and Ursula knew her ghostly friend was glad that she’d found the happiness in life that had eluded her. She hoped Anna got to experience some of her joy vicariously because she had so much good fortune to share that she was overflowing with it. There was no denying that life was very sweet, and as she looked at Damien and her friends enjoying dinner at their new home she felt extremely blessed

“Here’s to a new lif
e,” she said, raising her glass in a toast. ”To true love and wonderful friends, both seen and unseen.”

“To
a new life and wonderful
friends,” everyone repeated.

“
And to Ursula,” said Damien, raising his own glass again, “who has changed my life, and opened up my heart and mind in ways I never thought possible:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea
,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.

             
“
Oh Romeo and Juliet
” said Bonnie with a sigh, “how romantic.”

             
“Yeah, except it’s a tragedy,” replied Tom, “and they both die in the end.”

             
“Oh, Tom, why do you always have to be so cynical?” said Bonnie, swatting him on the arm playfully “What am I going to do with this man, you two?” Ursula and Damien were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to answer her.

The End

About the author:

Francene
Carroll lives in a tiny rural town in Australia with her husband, David, and dog, Scooter. The isolated location gives her plenty of time for writing, and she loves nothing more than creating new worlds and interesting storylines. She hopes her readers are both entertained and inspired by her books.