Helen Phifer - The Ghost House

‘It’s miserable out there, Tess, but I don’t mind if you don’t, and we may still be able to catch up with Jake. Who’s a clever girl?’ Annie bent down and scratched behind Tess’s ears making her so excited that her tail began to thump against everything. Putting on one of the many waterproof jackets that were hanging on the coat rack and pulling on a pair of too big wellies, they set off into the woods.

She spotted flashes of dayglo yellow through the trees and headed in that direction, taking the path that skirted around the outside of the old house. She would never go back in there on her own; not after today. There was no rational explanation for what she had experienced earlier, but it had been so real.

It niggled at her that after all these years she had been the one to find Alice’s diary. Surely there have been plenty of people in and out of the house to have found it and picked it up. She tried to picture what Alice would have looked like and an image began to form in her mind of a pretty young woman in a maid’s uniform. This Edward sounded like he was made from the same stuff as most serial killers: cruelty to animals, no friends, cold and calculating. He probably murdered the girl under the tree. Annie shivered as she wondered if there was a grave in the woods containing the girl’s remains. She needed to go to the library and do some investigation to see if there were any records about the family and servants that lived in the house. It could all be a fake; someone could be setting her up. But then again, up until thirty minutes ago no one knew where she was staying.

Jake’s voice filtered through the trees and she headed towards it. It was typical of him to be so near to the house but at least she would have his huge muscles to protect her. She wondered briefly if Will was still around, although she knew from experience that CID usually left the dirty work to uniformed officers. They would breeze into a crime scene looking like the men in black, make a few phone calls then disappear again: she doubted he would still be here.

Anyway there was absolutely nothing he would see in her five foot six inch frame with a figure-not-to-die-for and a lifetime membership to Weight Watchers®. On the plus side, her eyes were a pretty green but she didn’t even have a full head of hair thanks to Mike. Her black curls had been shaved off. How she had cried when she saw them lying on the cubicle floor in the hospital.

Up to now she had managed to avoid thinking about that night but it all came rushing back to her. She had been late finishing because of a fight outside one of the nightclubs on Cornwallis Street. Two of her colleagues had been smacked in the face by a group of drunken chavs who had not only been drunk but high on plant food or whatever fashionable crap it was they were snorting. Finally booking off-duty, she had gone to the car park across the road to her car, which wouldn’t start. No money on her for a taxi she had gone back into the station to find someone who could give her a lift home. Kav, her sergeant, had offered to take her as he was on his way out to pick up some food; he could drop her off first.

As he had driven up the street the house was in darkness and she had hoped that Mike was either still in the pub or, even better, comatose on the sofa. He hated her working evenings but it infuriated him if she had to work late. It didn’t matter to him that she had no choice. If a job came in ten minutes before the end of your shift you couldn’t just stop what you were doing and go home like some other jobs. Most men would be proud to say their wife was a police officer but not him. For some reason he found it shameful.

She crept in through the kitchen door and closed it gently behind her. The kitchen light flickered into life and the familiar feeling of dread washed over her. She just wanted to crawl into bed but Mike was stood glaring at her.

‘Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to finish at ten and it’s nearly midnight. I heard you on the phone this morning making plans; did you really think you could just walk away like that?’

Annie recalled the phone call to Ben. She had been making plans but only to go and stay there to look after his animals while he was away. He had asked her again if she wanted a room permanently. This morning she had laughed off his offer, not sure what to say after he told her it was time she left the bully she was married to: ‘I see the look in your eyes, Annie, not to mention the bruises under those long sleeved tops you wear when it’s a hot day.’ Those words had been playing on her mind all day. He knew, her brother knew that Mike was hitting her.

Suddenly she found the strength to tell him she was leaving him. ‘Do you think I’ve been at the pub getting pissed or do you think I could have been working hard to earn the money for you to go and get pissed? We’re through Mike; I’ve had enough of you. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I could get enough of you. It’s over.’ She regretted the words instantly and knew what was about to happen was going to hurt.

His expression had gone from one of anger to rage. Striding towards her he drew back his fist and then slammed it hard into her stomach. Annie doubled over winded. He was a dirty fighter. Her eyes watered and she struggled to breathe but the feeling of indignity began to burn in her chest and the realisation that she would take no more hit her hard, forcing her to straighten up.

She curled her fingers into a fist and punched him square on the nose. The sound of the cartilage crunching beneath her knuckles had been the most deeply satisfying sound she had ever heard. The warmth of the blood which poured out added to the fire that was burning in her hand but she didn’t care, she could cope with that. For the first time in years she couldn’t stop grinning because she had given him a taste of his own medicine: it felt amazing. Turning to walk back out of the door and leave him, she grabbed the handle. Suddenly a whooshing sound cut through the air behind her and the empty champagne bottle that she had kept since their wedding day became the thing that ended their marriage for good. As it connected with the back of her skull, stopping her dead in her tracks, she collapsed onto the floor.

Annie wasn’t sure what happened then but Mike must have walked out of the door because he left her unconscious and bleeding all over her clean tiles. Kav had told her later that he’d got to the takeaway and noticed her handbag on the floor of the car. Knowing what women were like without them he’d turned around and driven back to drop it off for her. He’d strolled around to the back door because the kitchen light was on, the door ajar and the handle was covered in blood. He peered through the crack and had been shocked to see Annie’s lifeless figure lying on the floor.

The next thing she recalled was waking up to the smells and the sounds of the Accident and Emergency Department. There is nothing like twenty-six staples and multiple bruises to make you realise that your marriage is over: Annie wanted nothing more to do with Mike.

She thought about Ben and how he would be mortified if he knew what had happened. She remembered how he had asked her to dog-sit and made it seem as if she was helping him when really it was the complete opposite: he had been offering her a chance to escape, which was a good thing because now she needed it. There was no going back.

The worst thing about it all had been the fact that her secret was now public knowledge and the shame was burning inside of her chest adding to the pain and nausea she already felt. When she saw Jake heading towards her cubicle she had squeezed her eyes shut. He was followed in by the doctor.

‘She’s all right, Doc, isn’t she? I mean she’s not brain-damaged or anything?’