House Of Whispers

Further chapters of our haunting serial

Judith sat in Sarah Osborne’s kitchen, trying to make sense of what the woman she’d always called Nanny was saying to her.

“Your mother was my baby cousin, Judy. I was much older, and of course Sissy was very young when she had you – and unmarried. In this town it was quite the scandal.”

Judith marvelled at how recently such attitudes prevailed. What her poor mother must have gone through!

“Our families were close, so I was more like a sister than a cousin,” Sarah went on. “Well, more like a mom, really. Sissy’s mother did her best but she suffered terrible headaches…” She lifted a hand to her throat and twisted a silver chain round her neck. “My mom – they were sisters – said her headaches came after the hauntings.”

“They saw ghosts?” Judith asked incredulously. “Nanny, are you telling me this house is haunted?”

“No, no, not this house, the other one. The one you’ve been dreaming about.” Sarah wrung her hands. “Oh dear… this is not coming out at all well. How about more tea? I made your favourite cookies – on the plate by the kettle.”

Judith picked up their empty cups, got up from the big table and walked to the counter top, thinking how she could fit her entire New York apartment into this kitchen. Andrew was right; they needed somewhere bigger.

“So the house I’m dreaming about actually exists?” she asked as she set the kettle on the stove to boil.

“Oh yes,” Sarah replied. “It’s the Goodwin family home.”

Judith poured boiling water into her grandmother’s flowery teapot – she still couldn’t think of Sarah as anything other than Nanny – tipped it into the sink, spooned in loose tea leaves and topped it up with just-off-the-boil water. It was a ritual she’d seen Nanny do so many times she never had to think about it.

She brought the pot to the table along with the freshly rinsed cups and the plate of cookies.

“Start again,” she suggested. “But this time, begin with my mother.”

“Of course – you’ll want to know all about her. You’re the last of the Goodwins, you know.” Sarah selected a cookie, looking at it as if inspecting it for flaws before taking a tentative bite. “I always tried to protect Sissy – Lord knows, she needed it,” she began. “Then after the accident…”

Sarah’s voice faltered. Judith put her hand on her arm. “The crash that killed my parents?” “Yes, but… it was just…” Sarah looked everywhere except at Judith and when she finally settled her gaze, her eyes were glistening with tears. “It was only you and your mother in the car, Judy.”

“But I’m still here.” Judith frowned and shook her head as if to rid herself of childhood memories that were now proving to be untrue.

“You were in a baby seat and it was flung out of the car – it saved your life.”

“How? How was I thrown free?”

“No one knows, Judy. I was just grateful you survived.”

“And my father – is he alive?”

Sarah silently looked down at her hands.

“You don’t know who my father is?”

“I had a good idea,” Sarah replied. “But Sissy never said, so I couldn’t be sure.” She saw Judith’s brow pull into a frown. “You’re wondering why I let you believe I was your grandma?”

Judith gave a heavy sigh and Sarah responded with one of her own.

“So the house I’m DREAMING about actually EXISTS?” Judith asked

“It seemed easier at the time, I suppose. Then all of a sudden you’d grown up and moved to New York and it just didn’t seem relevant any more. You were so small, Judy – barely two years old – you were too young to understand.” “I’m not sure I understand now.” “I know… I’m sorry. It was just that…” Sarah stood and took their cups to the sink and began to wash them. “I helped her look after you – well, she was little more than a child herself.” She

spoke with her back to Judith, arms in the sink. “Then I met Jim Osborne…” Judith saw her shrug. “I married him and moved into my own home.

“Sissy didn’t cope well. I think she told her young man she would tell his family about you…”

Sarah leaned heavily against the sink as she went on, “But then she… she died…” Her voice hitched. “In that awful crash… that old car, it wasn’t safe and…”

Judith heard a soft sob and rushed to her side. “It’s all right, Nanny.”

“No, it’s not all right.” Sarah turned, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Judy!” she cried. “Sissy was trapped in the car and she… she…” She dropped her face into her hands, but her muffled words still hit Judith like a bolt of lightning. “Poor Sissy burned to death…”

Several hours later, Judith stood beside her rental car in a potholed driveway, Sarah standing beside her. “So this is the family home,” Judith said quietly.

“Yes, I spent a lot of my childhood here, with Sissy. It would have been hers now… and you were born here.”

“Is that why I’ve been dreaming about it?” Judith asked.

“Perhaps. No doubt you remember it, even though you were so young when I took you to live with me after…” “Has it been empty since Mom died?” “Heavens, no – that was over twenty years ago. I tried renting it out but no one ever stayed long. Strange that, eh?” Sarah tried to lighten the dark mood that hovered over them like a raincloud. “I guess they didn’t like the ghosts – or the ghosts didn’t like them!” “A haunted house…” Judith mused. “Sissy didn’t seem to mind. She said she was going to unearth the family history and lay the ghosts to rest. Perhaps you can do that.” Sarah looked at her imploringly. “Oh Judy, can you ever forgive me?”

Judith drew the other woman into her arms and hugged her close. “Of course,” she said. “Even though you’re not my grandma, you’re still Nanny and my relative. Nothing will ever change that.”

The women drew apart as Sarah dug in her pocket for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “Silly old goose!” she said, laughing and sobbing at once. “You’d best go in then,” she said, tucking the tissue into her sleeve. “Don’t worry, I had a cleaning company in – it’s shabby, but it’s clean.” Judith took a tentative step. “It belongs to you now, Judy.”

Standing at the stairs to the porch, Judith marvelled how it was exact in every detail to the house in her dreams. A chill ran down her spine, but she shook it off, trepidation giving way to anticipation as she stepped onto the porch. She turned the heavy door handle, knowing exactly what she would find.

She closed the door behind her, leaning against it, and fancied she heard the house sigh softly. These were the scenes of her dreams – rooms and objects seen so vividly, yet she had no recollection of ever having been here. Could the memories of a two-year-old be that clear – and last so long?

There was the chiming clock on the upright piano, its keys yellowing with age; the pine beams and the stone surround fireplace; the pale wood floor scattered with once richly-hued oriental rugs, now faded and threadbare.

Gently brushing the back of a tapestry sofa as she passed, Judith wandered through the lounge and turned into the hallway. She saw the grandfather clock she knew would be there, smiling at it as if greeting a long-lost relative.

As she entered the master bedroom, she gasped at the familiarity of a four-poster bed draped with rich red silks. The same drapes hung at a picture window that looked out over the garden to the fields and forest beyond. In front of the window sat a simple dresser, its whitewashed paint genuinely distressed with age. She caressed tiny silver trinket boxes on its surface. Had these belonged to her mother? Looking at her reflection in the dresser mirror, she felt a deep and profound peacefulness. She was home.

Judith pulled her tablet from her bag and tossed it onto the bed. Sarah picked it up. “I’ve always wanted one of these,” she said. “Do you need broadband for it?

A MAN stood before her. How LONG had he BEEN THERE? she wondered

I haven’t got round to getting it here.”

“No need, Nanny. It has its own mobile wi-fi. I should be able to use it anywhere.”

Judith finished putting her clothes in the chest of drawers in Sarah’s spare bedroom, a bright, welcoming pale lemon.

“Nanny,” she began. “All the things in the house… don’t you want any of it?”

“They’re yours, Judy. They belonged to your mother and grandmother. I dare say there are a few things even older, although the original house was a lot smaller. I believe it stood where the summerhouse is now – it burned down some time in the late 1600s.”

“Wasn’t that around the time of the Salem witch hunts?”

“Yes, although I doubt there’s any connection,” Sarah said. “I believe the house lay derelict for decades after the fire. Later, they built a much bigger house, then later still the summerhouse on the spot of the original homestead.”

“And those family skeletons you talked about…?”

Sarah gazed at the tablet in her hands, as if its black surface were a crystal ball.

“Ever since that fire there’s been bad blood between the Goodwins and the Meyerses. Some think the Meyerses had something to do with it, but they were a powerful family in Palmerstone – still are – so no one will point the finger openly.”

Sarah sighed and Judith felt the weight of the cloud that hung over her. Suddenly she stood, the tablet still in her hands.

“But I’ll tell you as much as I can, and what I don’t know Jessica can fill in.” “Jessica?” “A dear friend of mine and the town librarian. What she doesn’t know about Palmerstone isn’t worth knowing.”

Sarah headed for the door, holding the tablet aloft as if it were a holy grail. “And after dinner I want a good look at this – I think I’ll treat myself to one.”

The next day Judith wanted an early start at the library to fill the gaps in what Sarah had told her over dinner – there had been more holes in her story than in a Swiss cheese! She needed to substantiate the feud between the Goodwins and the Meyers, as well as confirming that she was the last living member of her line of the family.

Was that why she was dreaming so vividly about the old family home – and who was the sinister man who lurked in those dreams?

When Sarah introduced her to Jessica, she could see instantly why the two had become best friends – they finished each other’s sentences and both had an infectious enthusiasm.

Soon Judith was sitting at a reading desk piled high with ancient ledgers, tablet at the ready to take notes.

Jessica suggested they leave her to it, and whisked Sarah away for a clandestine cuppa in her tiny office to discuss the merits of modern technology and which tablet Sarah should buy!

Now Judith sat staring at the ledgers, a little overwhelmed. She took a deep breath, inhaling the musty smell of old paper. One eat san elephant one bit eat a time, she reminded herself, and opened the ledger on top of the pile…

Judith’s head snapped up from her work. A man stood before her. How long had he been there?

“Hello,” he said, as if he’d been there some time. “That must be very interesting.” He nodded to the pile of books. “Would you mind if I…?” With an open palm he indicated a chair on the other side of the table.

“Of course,” Judith replied, even though she would rather he left her alone. Her gaze flickered to the wall clock and she gasped, amazed that two hours had passed.

The man sat, easing long legs under the desk. “Time runs away when you’re engrossed, doesn’t it?” Judith shifted her feet away from his. “You look like you could use a coffee. There’s a machine over there…” He looked a little embarrassed, then thrust a hand across the table towards Judith. “Sorry. Nathan Meyers, at your service.”

Judith’s eyes widened at the name Meyers and instantly curiosity overcame irritation.

“Judith Goodwin,” she said, taking his proffered hand. His handshake was firm and either her name meant nothing to him, or he was good at hiding his feelings. Could she learn anything useful from him? “I suppose I could use a break,” she admitted. “Cream, sugar…?” “Just as it comes, please.” “One black coffee coming up.” He smiled and stood again.

Judith watched him walk to the vending machine. There was something familiar about him. He was tall and slender but there was power in his stride. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he bent to the machine, feeding in coins and waiting patiently for cups to fill. Impossibly dark eyes met hers as he returned, a cup in each hand.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he said, though he’d held it comfortably for several minutes.

It reminded her of Andrew, back in New York, and she blinked hard. Yet as she took the cup and his thumb brushed the back of her hand, she shivered.

“You have your work cut out.” His gaze fell on the pile of ledgers.

“I’m trying to piece together the family history,” she replied. “And you?”

“Nothing so noble.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone, waggling it in the air. “Free wi-fi.”

He gave her a cheeky grin, yet his dark gaze was disturbingly mesmerising and Judith tore her eyes away.

“Do you live here?” Meyers asked –

too casually. He would know if she did. “Just visiting.” He waved his cup in the direction of the ledgers. “The family tree…?”

“I was born here,” she replied cagily. She could tell he was fishing for information. Perhaps he recognised her name after all. “I live in New York. I’m visiting my… a relative. Although I believe I’m the last of my line – the last Goodwin.”

Meyers nodded but said nothing. Judith put her cup down and gathered the ledgers under one arm, juggling her tablet and handbag in the other.

“Well, nice to meet you, Mr Meyers,” she said as she stood. “And thanks for the coffee.”

She was already walking away when Meyers said, “You’re welcome… and call me Nathan.”

She didn’t answer or look back.

Before she left the library, she told Sarah she was going out to the old house to see if she could find anything there that might help. She’d said she might stay a day or two and Sarah had arranged to come out later with some grocery supplies.

As she drove, she thought about

Her mouth WORKED FURIOUSLY, forming WORDS she could NOT HEAR

Nathan Meyers. She had been inexplicably drawn to him and he had seemed a perfectly nice person – polite, even – and yet he had unsettled her.

Was it just Nanny’s stories about an old family feud? Now she was even more determined to find the reason for the animosity between the Goodwins and the Meyers.

It was well after noon by the time she got to the old house and her stomach rumbled indignantly as she settled on the couch with her tablet. She regretted not picking something up on the way, and when she checked the fridge it was empty, not even a forgotten lonesome egg. She opened the notes on her tablet and hoped Nanny wouldn’t be much longer with the groceries…

Her head jerked sharply upward, snapping her out of a doze. Disorientated, Judith looked up. She must surely still be asleep, for inches in front of her stood a young woman in long skirts, a shawl tied around her shoulders and wearing a white bonnet. She seemed to shimmer as if…

Judith stared, her eyes darting around the room – it was solid, present – there was the TV in the corner and her papers scattered on the floor at her feet.

She looked up again. The girl was still there, but faded as if she were superimposed on the room. Judith reached out. Her hand swept right through her. I must be dreaming! she told herself firmly.

Blindly she fumbled for her tablet, snatching it up, intent on photographing this apparition – if that were even possible – while the woman’s mouth worked furiously, forming words Judith could not hear.

With numb hands she lifted her tablet. It took three attempts to get her trembling finger to press the camera button. Just as the shutter snapped, the woman suddenly evaporated.

The ghost – if that was what it was – was gone. But it left Judith with an overwhelming certainty that she and Nathan Meyers were not only connected somehow – but they were the key to ending the family feud.

Judith was still agitated when Sarah arrived with the groceries. “What did she look like?” she asked as she put the provisions away.

“Here,” Judith said, thrusting her tablet out. “It’s not clear but…”

“You photographed a ghost? Oh, how exciting!”

“Nanny! How can you be so blasé about this? Do you know who she is?”

Sarah squinted at the picture – the image Judith had captured could have been a trick of the light, but it was certainly lifelike, if you could say that about a ghost.

“She looks like you. Perhaps she’s family – an ancestor. I told you this house is full of ghosts. You didn’t believe me, did you?” As she put the tablet on the table, her attention was drawn to the documents they had photocopied earlier at the library.

“Judy,” she said, picking up one of them – a painting of a stern-looking man, good-looking in a darkly unnerving kind of way. “Why did you copy this?”

Judith’s gaze darted between Sarah and the picture as she stood to look. “Do you know who he is?” “Yes. This is Joshua von Meyer – one of the town’s founding fathers. They dropped the ‘von’ some time ago – they’re the Meyerses now, so that young man Nathan is a direct descendent.”

Judith dropped back into her chair, head spinning.

“You know the dark figure in the dreams I’m having?” “The one you can never see clearly?” “Yes, only I know now – call it a feeling…” She plucked the picture from Sarah’s hand. “Joshua von Meyer is the sinister man in my dreams.”