A Quiver of Ghosts by Chetwynd-Hayes R

Author:Chetwynd-Hayes, R [Chetwynd-Hayes, R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Collection.Single Author, Short Fiction, Fiction.Horror, Fiction.Dark Fantasy/Supernatural
ISBN: 9780718305031
Google: vBJYAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0718305035
Goodreads: 6190715
Publisher: Kimber
Published: 2015-02-21T05:00:00+00:00

VIII

Dead Ghost

There was no breeze that day, only the soft gurgle of the river as it flowed round an irregular line of stepping stones and wended its way between grass-covered banks, before racing under a distant bridge. A heat haze rose up from the surrounding meadows and it seemed to Gerald Makepeace as he stared with narrowed eyes across the expanse of water, that time had temporarily slowed down and so long as he—and more important, Catherine—did not move, they could spend eternity in a hot, peaceful limbo that existed on the frontiers of sleep. Of course he did not put this fanciful notion into words, but frowned when his sister’s voice shattered the illusion:

‘There’s a woman over there watching us.’

‘Good luck to her. She’s probably admiring your unnatural beauty.’

‘But she doesn’t move. Just stands under that tree watching us.’

With a sigh Gerald sat up and directed his gaze at the only tree that was within their range of vision. Presently he said quietly:

‘There’s no one there. You are pretending again. You know Father said you weren’t to. People will say you’re mad.’

‘I’m not pretending. I’m not. Can’t you really see her?’

The boy sank back upon his elbows and continued to watch the suspect tree. ‘No. Neither can you. Now, admit it. There’s no one there.’

Catherine stood up and brushed back a lock of auburn hair.

‘I’ll admit no such thing. I can see her as plain as plain can be. If you can’t see her then she must be—one of those.’

Gerald grinned although there was a hint of fear in his clear blue eyes.

‘A ghost! If such an animal existed, I’d see it as well, wouldn’t I?’

‘No. You haven’t my—my gift. Although I’d be much happier without it. Gerald, I’m rather frightened. She has the face of a dead woman. White, no expression at all.’

Gerald suppressed a shudder and deliberately averted his gaze from the tree.

‘For heaven’s sake! You’ve got me at it now. All right, let’s suppose you can see what I can’t. Apart from having a dead face, what does she look like?’

Catherine spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper.

‘Not very tall—about my height. Long black hair that hangs down to her shoulders. She’s wearing a long white thing—looks like an old fashioned nightdress. Her feet are bare. Large dark eyes that glitter and... She’s gone! Vanished. Gerald, I wish we had never moved to this place. I have a feeling she wants to cross the water and come into the house.’

Gerald clambered to his feet and peered back at the red-bricked manor house that stood some hundred yards away; its sunlit windows seemed to smile benignly over the smooth green lawn that sloped gently down to the river bank. He tried to dismiss the feeling of disquiet with a low laugh and mocking words.

‘What utter bosh! I don’t know much about this ghostly business, but I thought a ghost couldn’t cross running water.’

‘That’s a vampire.’

‘Is it? Why is she hanging about under that tree?’

Catherine began to clamber up the bank on to the lawn, then waited until Gerald had joined her.

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