The Haunting of Highdown Hall (23 page)

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Authors: Shani Struthers

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BOOK: The Haunting of Highdown Hall
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Relax, Cynthia,
she thought,
I’m coming.

***

As she approached the door to Cynthia’s room, walking down the corridor that had become so familiar to her of late, Ruby began to doubt her judgement. Maybe Cash was right, she shouldn’t have come alone. Theo would be furious about it too. Striving to remain positive, however, she entered the room, the door slightly ajar although Ruby was sure she had shut it behind her when she had last left. Mr Kierney professed never to venture upstairs, so who had left it open?

Cynthia was definitely present; Ruby could feel her, staring at her from the safety of the shadows. Walking to the centre of the room, to the exact spot where she had felt Cynthia fall to the ground, clutching at her heart, Ruby looked around her. The room felt so lonely, it felt forgotten – terrible feelings for a person like Cynthia to endure. Although there was no need to talk out loud – she could communicate perfectly well with spirits by thought alone – Ruby did so anyway, more for her own comfort than anything else.

“Yes, Cynthia, it’s me again and yes, I know you’re not happy to see me,” she began, “but I’m not giving up on you. I told you that. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Silence again. Ruby expected nothing less.

“I know you’re frightened, Cynthia,” she continued. “And perhaps you’re right; perhaps there is something,
someone
waiting for you in the shadows. If so, I’m going to find out who he is and send him home too.”

Him? How do you know it’s a him?

Cynthia was talking at last; talking, not screaming. It was a good sign.

“I can only go on hunches with that I’m afraid, but I feel it’s a ‘him’. And I can’t help wondering if it’s John Sterling, a man you were intimate with in life.”

Not John! John wouldn’t do this.
Followed by an agonising howl of anguish.
How I miss him!

“If it’s not John, then
who
is it? You must know, Cynthia, you must have an idea. If you can remember what happened the night you passed, we can solve this. I know John found you but could he have been involved in any other way? In your passing I mean.”

John loved me.

Remembering the emotions she had felt downstairs, Ruby continued, “But he was jealous of you too, wasn’t he? He hated sharing you with other men.”

He understood!

Ruby wasn’t so sure.

Walking over to the bed, tuning into the vibes still present, Ruby knew Cynthia had been far from faithful to John. There had been many lovers on this bed.

Knowing she was goading her, but unsure what else to do, she replied, “Perhaps he didn’t understand as well as you think he did, Cynthia? Everybody has limits, even John.”

Steeling herself, Ruby waited for Cynthia’s reaction and was surprised when there wasn’t one.

“Cynthia,” she tried again, “do you think you pushed John too far the night of your party? That his temper finally snapped? Could he have killed you? Tell me what happened.”

No, no, NO!
Cynthia screamed.

Quickly, Ruby reinforced the white light around herself, one hand on her necklace, the other still clutching at the stone in her pocket. What little light was entering the room through the windows fell back, retreating, as though it too were afraid. Suddenly Ruby thought of her mother, had she experienced something similar years ago? Had she goaded a spirit, when really she should have left well alone? Was she, Ruby, now making a mistake, doing the same thing her mother had? She may be psychic, she may be able to connect with the spirit world, but really, she admitted to herself, her knowledge of what lay beyond was scant. All she knew, and this her grandmother had taught her, was that the light was good, the light never judged, it welcomed you back, glad to have you home again. But if that were true, why were so many reluctant to go towards it? Why choose torment over relief? What did they know that she didn’t?

Cynthia spoke again, the anger having left her voice.

John wouldn’t hurt me.

Had Cynthia reacted differently, Ruby might have been more inclined to believe in her own theory. As in life, so on the other side, violent denial can sometimes mean you’d touched a sore spot. That this particular spirit remained calm in the face of such allegations suggested Cynthia had known her man, had known just what he was capable of: endless devotion, by the sounds of it.

Deciding not to irritate her any further over this point, Ruby apologised.

“If I’ve done John a disservice, I’m sorry. But might it still be him waiting for you in the shadows, Cynthia? Not intent on harming you, but simply trying to reach you?”

I, I...
Cynthia seemed uncertain now.
I don’t know...

“I’m here, Cynthia, I’m with you. Don’t be afraid. Look into the shadows. It may be John; it may be nothing bad at all.”

I...
Cynthia started again. But this time Ruby could sense her moving forward, slowly, wanting so very much to believe.

“Who is it?” asked Ruby. “Can you see?”

No answer.

“Cynthia, is it John? Is John waiting for you?”

Ruby held her breath, praying for a happy ending. In truth, just an ending would do. Was she right? Had Cynthia been hiding from her protector all along? Her own fear the only thing keeping her prisoner? Losing contact briefly, Ruby began to wonder if Cynthia had finally gone to the light – if she hadn’t, if she was still present, then contact would usually be maintained.
Go on, Cynthia, go on...
she urged with every fibre of her being. Starting to feel a glimmer of hope at last, she relaxed. Too late she realised her mistake. From out of nowhere, she was suddenly hit square in the stomach and sent flying backwards onto the bed, her feet leaving the ground entirely, her arms flailing either side, desperate to find something to hold onto, to break her fall.

Her mind scrabbling to comprehend, Ruby attempted to clutch at her necklace, needing the comfort of the trinket’s heritage, of Rosamund, more than the stone itself. She couldn’t move, however, she was pinned down, a pressure upon her, oppressive, choking.

“Cynthia,” she managed. “Stop.”

But as soon as she said it, she knew it wasn’t Cynthia. Cynthia was hiding again, whimpering. This was the one who waited in the shadows.

“John?”

That didn’t feel right either. But if not John, who the hell was it? Or
what
from hell was it?

Desperately, she forced herself to remember what her grandmother had taught her. That evil did not exist, only acts of evil, and always at the root of those acts was fear. This ‘being’, doing its utmost to drain her life force, was not evil, simply frightened, as frightened as Cynthia was, or perhaps even more so. Fear was the reason it attacked, she told herself. In such a situation, she should feel only empathy for the spirit, immense love. Love triumphs over everything.

Doing her utmost, she had to admit it was hard to feel immense love under such dire circumstances. She did her best, but to no avail – the grip around her neck was getting tighter. Ruby was convinced her windpipe wouldn’t be able to withstand such pressure. She knew she should remain calm, but it was no use, panic was setting in. Nobody knew she was here, nobody living that is, there was no one to help her.

If she lost consciousness the fight would be over – for her anyway. She had to concentrate. But she couldn’t think straight, let alone visualise; her mind was becoming filmy at the edges, detaching itself. As she was about to surrender to oblivion, she heard a faint noise. It grew louder, more urgent, bringing her back to full awareness the more insistent it became.
Barking?

Jed, is that you?
She couldn’t turn her head to see, but the barking became more furious, startling the malign entity that had hold of her. For a moment the presence faltered, only for a second, perhaps two, but it was just enough for Ruby to redouble her efforts, sending light and love to wrap itself around this tortured being. As she did so, its grip loosened. As though scalded, it started to retreat, shrieking hideously all the while. She poured forth more light and love, sending it from the very core of her own being, outwards like a tidal wave, reaching higher and higher, getting stronger and stronger, relentless in its flow. When she was sure it had retreated far enough, that she had achieved a measure of safety, she pushed herself up from Cynthia’s bed, coughing as she did so, one hand reaching up to support her bruised throat and chin. The atmosphere was once again subdued. Her attacker was gone – for now.

Turning to where Jed stood beside the bed, looking at her with bright eyes worried, his tail wagging only intermittently, she whispered “Cynthia? Cynthia, are you okay?”

Get out!
Cynthia’s reply lacked its usual venom; instead her voice was anxious. She was obviously as concerned for Ruby’s safety as Jed was.

Chapter Eighteen

 

“You
did
go, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes you
did
, admit it!”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Cash, yes I did go, but I wasn’t alone. Jed was with me.”

“A ghost dog?” Cash almost spat. “What good is a ghost dog?”

“A lot of good, as it turns out. It seemed the last thing my attacker was expecting was a ghost dog attacking him right back. His surprise at Jed doing so gave me the break I needed to regain control.”

“Your attacker? What the...”

But Cash didn’t get to finish his interrogation as just at that moment Theo, Ness and Corinna marched into the office, ready to do business.

***

All four faces looked shocked as Ruby revealed what had happened at Highdown Hall the previous day, even though she was sure she had played down events considerably. As she got to the bit about Jed, he came moseying into the room and settled himself in front of the heater.

“He’s attached himself to you good and proper, hasn’t he?” said Ness, eyeing him.

“He has indeed, he’s part of the team now – and a welcome addition he is too, isn’t he, Theo?” said Ruby, referring to how the dog had helped send the young boy, Timothy, to the light.

“He can’t stay,” was Theo’s sober reply.

“I don’t think he does stay,” said Ruby, looking fondly over at him. “I think he comes and goes between our world and the next whenever he wants to. I’m not sure who’s given him leave to do so, but one thing I do know, I’m very grateful to him. He saved my life.”

“Your life?” Cash was incredulous now. “Are you saying that spirit, the one that attacked you, could actually have killed you?”

“No, no, no,” Ruby was eager to placate him. “At least, I don’t think so. The point is, he, whoever
he
is, didn’t do any lasting damage. I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not going back to Highdown Hall alone again.” It was Theo this time, just as concerned as Cash. “I forbid it. When we go back, we go together or not at all.”

“And what would happen if we decided upon the latter, if we didn’t go back at all?” As Corinna spoke, Ruby saw a nervous glint in her eye.

“That’s not an option, we
have
to go back, but we keep in mind we’re dealing with two spirits now, both of them angry and confused. Double trouble if you like.”

Her attempt at humour fell flat. No one was smiling.

Ruby continued, “We need to do our utmost to uncover the exact events leading up to Cynthia’s heart attack; doing so may give us a clue as to who the other spirit is.”

“And you don’t think it’s John Sterling?” asked Ness.

“No,” said Ruby. “And more to the point, neither does Cynthia. It’s not some sort of devil creature either, I sensed all-too-human emotions. Blind rage being the most obvious.”

Corinna couldn’t resist chuckling at Ruby’s second stab at humour, although it was Theo who spoke next.

“We
will
go back, but just you, Ruby, you, Ness and me. In my opinion, it is not safe to take Cash and Corinna with us.”

Corinna stopped chuckling.

“Hey, not so fast, Theo. I am part of this team and I’d like to remain so, thank you very much. Just because the going gets tough doesn’t mean I want out.”

“Same here,” chimed in Cash. “I was there at the start of the Highdown Hall case and I want to be there at the end.” Looking intently into Ruby’s eyes, he continued, “Make no mistake, Ruby, I’m here for you.” Turning to the rest of the team, he blushed slightly as he added: “For all of you, of course.”

Ruby had to blink to quell the emotions this heartfelt show of support – from Cash as well as her colleagues – had stirred within her. Cash was there for her? She liked that, she liked that a lot. And Corinna, dear, sweet Corinna – so ready to take up arms and fight, despite the danger to herself. She tried to speak but couldn’t, no words were enough to express the gratitude she felt.

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