The man upstairs

Libby’s flat was perfect, apart from her neighbours from hell…

Libby cursed her new neighbour

I’ll take it,’ Libby blurted out before the estate agent could even get started.

‘You will?’ The blonde woman with the clipboard looked surprised.

‘It’s perfect! Just what I’ve been looking for.’

The first-floor flat had taken her breath away from the moment she’d walked through the door. Her hopes weren’t too high when she saw the old brick building for the first time, expecting what lay inside to look just as old and shabby, but everything was new and shiny and just the kind of place she’d dreamt of.

The estate agent didn’t know what to say, so instead she just handed over the contract and watched Libby sign her name, with a sparkling smile and eyes already looking to the future.

The place looked even more magnificent when she’d moved in all her furniture. It wouldn’t look out of place in one of those glossy property magazines, she thought as she straightened another picture frame and beamed with pride.

Everything was going swimmingly well until it came to falling asleep. She’d just turned in for the night and was still awash with excitement and plans for a housewarming party when the racket started. The music coming from the flat above was loud and thumping and wouldn’t sound out of place in a nightclub in Ibiza.

After 10 minutes of Tiesto or whoever it was blasting from the speakers, Libby pulled a pillow over both ears and cursed her new neighbour.

The next morning came quicker than she’d hoped and, after what felt like her hundredth yawn, she decided to introduce herself to whoever lived upstairs and tactfully suggest they keep their raving to a minimum, especially after midnight.

But no matter how loudly she knocked, nobody answered. Probably hungover and dead to the world she tutted as she retreated downstairs. That’s when she heard some movement in the hall below and decided to investigate.

‘Hello there!’ A friendlyfaced old woman greeted her with a poodle at her ankles. ‘You must be the new girl upstairs. I heard someone was moving in.’

‘That’s me.’ A handshake as she introduced herself. ‘I’m Libby.’

‘I’m Hazel, and this little rascal is my Busker.’ She pulled out her keys. ‘I hope you’re settling in all right!’

‘I’d settle in a whole lot better if the music coming from upstairs wasn’t so loud!’

‘Music?’ Hazel turned and furrowed her brows.

‘Kept me up all night!’ An exhausted sigh. ‘And nobody answered the door when

I went knocking.’

‘I’m not surprised. The flat on the third floor is empty.’

‘Empty?’ It was Libby’s turn to frown.

‘Hasn’t been a soul in there since the fire. Poor fella, must’ve fallen asleep with a cigarette in his hand.’ A solemn shake of the head.

‘Fire?’ It was the first Libby had heard of it.

‘Oh yes, absolutely terrible.’ Hazel finally managed to open her front door. ‘You’ve never seen smoke like it in your life. It didn’t do much for my asthma, I’ll tell you that.’

Hazel and Busker soon retreated inside and left Libby to mull over what she’d just heard. The old woman must be mistaken, she decided. What other explanation could there be? She’d definitely been kept awake all night by that loud dreadful music. She was sure she’d even heard footsteps at one stage.

But the woman had sounded so sure and sincere. A shiver ran down Libby’s spine as she returned to her own flat and shut the door firmly behind her.

She was still wondering about the bizarre conversation when a loud tap came to the door and startled her to her feet, heart instantly racing. She hadn’t been expecting any guests. Nervously she opened the door only to find the estate agent standing there looking rather anxious.

‘Libby.’ She pushed her way inside. ‘I haven’t been able to sleep with the guilt.’

‘The guilt?’ This day was getting stranger and stranger.

‘I’m just going to come out with it. You deserve to know the truth. I haven’t been able to shift this flat for months, and I was just so thrilled when you wanted it.’ Her voice trembled. ‘But there are some things you need to know about this place or I’ll never have a clear conscience.’

‘It’s about the fire, isn’t it?’

‘How did you know?’ she said, surprised. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter that you heard. What matters is you know about the rumours.’

‘Rumours?’ Libby sat down, not sure how many more revelations she could take.

‘A few months back, I managed to rent this place to a lovely young couple. They’d just moved in when it started happening. The music, the footsteps at all hours of the morning. Now, I’m not saying I believe in ghosts… but they were the only people living in the building.’ Libby swallowed hard. She hadn’t been imagining it after all.

‘I know, you probably think I’m off my head and talking nonsense but I just thought you should know.’ The weight of the world seemed to lift from the estate agent’s shoulders.

Libby was lost for words as another shiver ran down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. And then something the estate agent said sounded an alarm bell in her head.

‘You said there was nobody else living in the building?’ Her mouth suddenly dried. ‘Not even downstairs?’

The estate agent shook her head and looked to the ground. ‘No, the place has been empty since the fire. Oh, it was like something from a horror film. The whole place went up in a matter of seconds. The biggest bonfire you’ve ever seen. Nobody stood a chance. My heart broke when I heard about the woman downstairs. Her and that poor dog of hers.’

Libby’s stomach lurched at every word as she came to an unsettling realisation. Not only had she heard the music of a dead man pulsing in her ears, but she’d stood face to face with a ghost. Two if you count the dog.

She was sure she’d heard footsteps