Helen Phifer - The Ghost House

Will pretended to look hurt. ‘Are you disrespecting my Tesco designer suits and Matalan shoes? What’s wrong with this look?’

Annie giggled and he liked the way it transformed the mask of worry she had been wearing since he first saw her earlier.

‘Nothing. They are very nice but you wouldn’t want to ruin them, would you?’

He shrugged and turned to leave.

‘Would you like a coffee?’

He told her he would love one and she opened the gate. Tess, who had decided that Will was OK, was running around his legs almost tripping him up. ‘Is she being friendly or purposely trying to break my neck?’

‘Both. She’s a lovable pain in the arse.’

Will bent down to scratch behind her ears and she flopped down on her belly. ‘Oh I see, one of those, are you? One stroke and you are anybody’s?’

‘So is her owner.’

Will’s expression of mock horror soon put the colour back into Annie’s cheeks and she stuttered, ‘I’m not her owner. I meant my brother.’

‘Oh that’s disappointing I could have given you a really good scratch between your ears.’

Annie laughed. His sense of humour was making him more attractive by the minute: Mike had been so miserable all of the time. Will followed her into the kitchen. ‘Tea, coffee or, if you’ve finished for the day, would you like a glass of wine?’

‘After today the wine would go down very well but I best stick with the coffee. I still need to go back, update the missing person’s report and go over everything we have up to now, which isn’t very much.’

Annie busied herself making a pot of fresh coffee and hoped the disappointment didn’t show on her face. Of course he can’t drink wine on duty, you idiot. You of all people should know that . For a brief moment she had imagined the pair of them getting drunk. She would give anything not to be alone tonight.

‘I’d love to come up some other time though when I’m not working, if the offer is still open.’

‘Anytime you’re passing. If you’re passing. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying here but it’s at least the next two months.’

They drank their coffee and chatted about work and Jake. When Will stood up to leave it was completely dark outside.

‘Thanks, Annie, that was really nice. Do I turn left at the bottom of this path? I’ve never been up here in the dark and I don’t fancy getting lost. I’d never live it down.’

Annie wasn’t sure whether he was joking or if he was just as scared as Jake had been but was too manly to say. ‘I can drop you off at your car if you want. I need to go to shopping.’

‘That would be great, I’d really appreciate it.’

Will climbed into her Mini with far more grace than she would have credited him for. She drove along the narrow lane and had a near miss with a dog walker who was dressed all in dark clothes with nothing remotely reflective on him apart from the handle of the dog lead.

‘Bloody hell! Who in their right mind would want to walk a dog up here at this time of night?’

‘Oh you would be surprised. There are people up here all hours. It’s usually teenagers who come camping in the woods but there are also the die-hard dog walkers. That was a bit close though. I never saw his dog; I hope I haven’t already run it over.’

‘I think we’d have felt the bump in this car unless of course it was a Chihuahua.’

She stopped in front of the old wooden gates and Will offered to open them.

‘It’s OK but thank you, they are so awkward it’s taken me two years to get used to them. Are you always such a gentleman?’

‘Oh yes, you should see.’ He stopped mid-sentence and Annie grinned, he had no idea how much she would like to see.

Getting out of the car she fiddled with the padlock and opened the gates then got back in and drove the short distance along the road to the red Ford Focus: a typical unmarked police car. The only problem was that every criminal in Barrow knew they were police cars so they were technically useless.

‘Thanks Annie, it’s been a pleasure. I’m back in work at eight so by the time I’ve caught up on everything I should be here around nine. Unless Jenna turns up, but I’ll let you know if she does.’

She waved goodbye to him and sped off. As soon as she reached the main road her phone began buzzing: she had three missed calls and two text messages and she didn’t need to look closely to see that they were all from Jake wanting to know the gossip. There wasn’t any and she wondered to herself would she have liked it if there was, or was she being a fool? It was only ten days since Mike had almost killed her and she had walked out of their twelve-year marriage. She hadn’t loved him for at least the last five years of it and had spent more time hating him than she ever had loving him. Her head was telling her to keep well clear of Will but her stomach got butterflies whenever she thought of him.

He swore but the car had been going too fast to take much notice of him. It was a good job he had been swinging the dog lead around. After reading the headlines on the billboard he couldn’t settle. The taxi driver who lived next door had told his mother the Abbey was sealed off and there were search teams out there. He had been so careful, how could they know where to look? The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the old house, but he needed to make sure everything was all right. And who exactly was driving along this track in the dark when the gates at the bottom had been locked. He knew the owner of the farm was out of the country, a friend of his mother’s told her at the spiritualist church the other week. As far as he knew the police didn’t drive Mini Cooper convertibles either. Someone must be keeping an eye on the place.

He needed to check out the farm. It hadn’t even entered his head last night when he had led the girl up here to the house. Anyone could have seen him. He had thought he had every angle covered. This was an important lesson to learn: there are a million and one ways to fuck it all up. Still, no coppers had come knocking at his door and if they had found her body this place would still be swarming with them.

He followed the path that led to the farmhouse. A light was shining through the trees from a downstairs window. Maybe they were on a timer: you wouldn’t go abroad and leave every light on in the house. Walking closer he climbed over the gate in case it made a noise when it opened. Keeping close to the house he reached the room that was lit and peered through the glass. On the table were two mugs and a black dog was asleep in the corner. A woman’s handbag was on the chair: whoever it was must be coming back. He took a look around at the assortment of barns and outbuildings. He couldn’t just leave. Not until he knew who was staying here. A door was ajar on one of the barns so he walked over and pushed it open with the tip of his boot. The smell of hay filled his nostrils and he had to lift a hand to his face to stifle a sneeze. He pulled a bale of hay from the stack and dragged it over to the tiny window that had a slight crack across the grimy glass: it gave a perfect view of the courtyard and the kitchen door. If he was lucky they would use this as the main way to go in and out. He was confident that whoever it was would have no reason to come in here at this time of night and if they did he would say he was homeless and just dossing down for the night.

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