Beneath the Shadows

On Saturday morning, Ben arrived at the front door, toolbox in hand, to clear up the final debris from knocking down the wall. The last couple of days had been difficult for Grace – Millie wasn’t napping well and so she had got little done. She was glad to have made a start on the work, but now looked forward to the break for Christmas. Besides, she missed the kitchen. She’d eaten packet noodles for two nights in a row, and was desperate to cook herself a meal.

Meredith’s offer kept ru

She had had a restless night last night. No demonic dogs had appeared to her, but instead, she had dreamed of Adam. He was trying to tell her something, his face frantic, sometimes with worry, sometimes with fear. He looked to be shouting the words, but there was only silence. At one stage he had raised his arms and Grace had seen that he was behind thick glass as he banged his hands on it, over and over.

She had woken numb with cold, to a darkness so absolute that she couldn’t see her fingers held an inch from her face. For a moment it felt as though she no longer existed at all. Shaking, she fumbled frantically for the bedside light switch. The room lit up. Everything in place, at rest.

She had taken long, deep breaths, and when she felt calmer had picked up Rebecca. Soon she was engrossed, getting through almost a hundred pages before she fell asleep again. In her dreams, for a while she lay among bluebells, with a cocker spaniel ru

Grace had woken up sweating this time, still clasping the book. She had thrown it onto the floor and scrambled out of bed, swatting at lights and going to splash water on her face. She had registered herself in the mirror, but looked away before she could catch her own reflected eye.

‘Grace? Grace? Are you all right?’

Ben was speaking to her, his voice drawing her from her distraction. He put down his toolbox and reached out, gently touching her hand. Grace looked at him, and they were still for a second, their eyes locked, before Ben dropped his hand and picked up his toolbox again, waiting expectantly.

It took Grace a moment longer to recover. She took a breath. ‘Yes, of course. Come on in,’ she said, and made way for him.

Half an hour later, Grace heard the crunch of gravel as she was tidying upstairs while Millie napped. She peered out of the window and saw A

‘A

A

‘He’s helping with the renovations, remember?’

‘Ah.’ A

A

‘Yes please!’ A

As soon as he’d gone, A

Grace rolled her eyes at her sister’s back as she followed her inside. A

While in the hallway, she heard Millie begi

‘I was just asking Ben about his Christmas plans,’ A

As Ben faced them, Grace saw that his cheeks were slightly flushed. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘I hadn’t actually –’

‘Ben, it’s fine,’ A

‘Of course,’ Grace agreed. ‘A

‘In fact we’ll be completely offended if you don’t,’ A

Ben looked unsure, but said, ‘In that case, thanks,’ and moved back to the fireplace, continuing to take measurements. Millie struggled out of Grace’s arms and crawled over to Ben, putting her hands on his knee and pulling herself up to inspect what he was doing. Ben turned to her and smiled, and she gave a shy smile back.

Grace watched them, wondering what it was about Ben that Millie found so intriguing.

‘I thought that thing was supposed to have wound down by now?’ A

Grace frowned. ‘Actually, you’re right, it should have. I thought it had stopped last weekend, but it started again, and I think it’s been going ever since.’

‘Did you want to let it wind down?’ Ben sounded apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. It stopped on Wednesday while I was here, so I wound it up again for you.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Grace was just relieved that there was a rational, ordinary explanation. What has got in to you? she scolded herself. You didn’t believe in ghosts before, there’s no reason to start now.

Then her focus shifted to her sister, as A

‘Oh, right.’ Grace was unable to match her sister’s vivacity. ‘When did you decide to do that?’

‘On the drive back from here. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Meredith and Claire said. I can’t believe they’re so glib about living with a ghost! If there really is a ghost in the house, of course. Perhaps they’re fibbing and that’s why they don’t care. But, whatever, readers will lap it up, it will make a great story. I’m going to try to persuade them to talk to me, and see what else I can uncover of the local spirit population. I can see the piece now, all moody black and white photographs. I haven’t quite got the angle yet, but it’ll come.’