The Ghost of Longthorn Manor and Other Stories Read online

  And now the house is silent once again.

  ***

  The lawn looks so beautiful and green in the morning sunlight, as a car stops outside on the gravel driveway.

  Standing here at one of the upstairs windows, I can't help but marvel at the calm scene. Longthorn Manor is such a wonderful house, so stately and proud, and the gardens are just divine. One could spend a very long time here indeed and never tire of the place. One could look out the window for days upon days, and night after night, and witness all the wonder of the world.

  The car door opens, and my brother Stephen steps out. Old and hunched, wearing that same tatty overcoat that he refuses to replace since he doesn't want to spent the money. He has an old suitcase with him, too, and he struggles for a moment to pull it out of the boot. I can just about hear his voice as he mutters and curses under his breath. He hasn't even made it to the front door yet, and already he's angry.

  A moment later, he takes his telephone from his pocket and holds it against the side of his face. I hear my own telephone ringing down in the hallway, on the table next to the coat-rack. As he waits for me to answer, Stephen looks up at the windows, but evidently he doesn't spot me. Finally the ringing stops, and he stuffs the telephone back into his pocket before starting to drag his suitcase toward the front door.

  He looks to be still muttering something to himself.

  His face is a picture of irritation.

  Good.

  As I hear him unlocking the front door, I cannot help but reflect upon the fact that almost my entire life was spent in a state of panic and doubt. My brother tricked me into believing I had seen a ghost here at Longthorn Manor, and I never got over that fear. For the rest of my years, I was constantly worried that something spectral would come back to me, and I became so terrified that I was eventually shocked by my own reflection in a window.

  I barely managed to make it through secretarial school.

  I never had the confidence to go out with a man.

  I never married, and I never had children.

  Even at the fuchsia society, I always held back, too scared to say a word.

  I was quiet and timid, from my childhood all the way through to my final days, and it was all Stephen's fault. I was his plaything, I was something to be used for his amusement. He crushed me, and he manipulated me, and he bullied me and turned me into a joke. My whole life was wasted because of him. I can hear him now, yelling my name in the hallway, and he sounds so angry that he's had to come to check up on me. I'm sure I've ruined all his plans for the weekend, but that's okay. He deserves all of that and more, and he's going to get his comeuppance. There was never a ghost at Longthorn Manor.

  But there is now.

  Isn't This the House Where...

  Part One

  Daria – September 1st, 2004

  “Hey, isn't this that house where those girls went missing a few years ago?”

  “Huh?” He glances back at me, although I can barely make out his face in the dark.

  “This house,” I continue. “It's where those girls went missing.”

  Stopping on the lawn, I look up at the dark house. As soon as we got to this street, I felt like the place felt familiar, and now I know why. I've seen this house on old news reports. I think people have even commented on it once or twice, while we drove past.

  “What are you on about?” Jake asks, adjusting his beanie. “Come on, it's freezing, let's get inside.”

  “Yeah, but isn't this that house where -”

  “Just come on,” he says with a smile, holding up a key. “Do you want to stand out here and freeze to death, or do you want to come in and get warm? I can think of several ways to heat you up.”

  With that, he turns and heads onto the patio, and I watch as his dark silhouette approaches the back door. I want to call out to him again, to tell him that this is dumb and we should go back to my place, but I don't want to sound completely lame. Jake has the most amazing cheekbones, and I still don't quite get why such a hot guy wanted to take me away from the party to have some one-on-one time. I guess I shouldn't overthink things.

  So instead, I wander past the old, abandoned patio furniture, and I catch up to Jake just as he slides the door open.

  “So why do you have a key to this place again?” I ask cautiously.

  “I told you. It used to belong to my uncle, he used to rent it out but... Well, he doesn't anymore. It's complicated. I think he's basically forgotten he owns it. He has all these properties all over town, and he's so busy juggling tenants, things slip through the cracks. I swiped the key to this place a while ago and I use it as my own little pad whenever I need a place to crash. Come on inside, I want to get the door shut.”

  He stops in the dark dining room and turns back to me, although I can't see him properly. It's too dark.

  “Are there any lights in there?” I ask.

  “Do you want to warn people that we're here?”

  “No, but -”

  “The cops'd get called if some nosy neighbor saw a light on.”

  “Sure, I get that, but -”

  “So get your ass inside, Daria. Someone might see you standing there in the garden.” He hesitates for a moment, waiting for me to join him. “Or you can go home, it's no big deal. I mean, it'd be crazy and disappointing, and I didn't have you pegged as that kind of girl, but it's totally your choice. Just don't waste my time, dude.”

  He smiles, and his cheekbones catch the moonlight.

  “I'm not wasting your time,” I reply, but he's already heading further into the house and now I can't see him at all. I can only hear his footsteps in the dark.

  Sighing, I realize I need to stop being such a pussy. Jake's a cool guy, and I want him to like me, and he's gone to all this trouble to bring me out here tonight. I know plenty of girls who'd kill to be alone with him, and deep down I'm starting to think that maybe he's interested in me. I'm also maybe possibly potentially considering the idea that I might let him be my first. I need to seal the deal, though, so I take a deep breath and step into the house, and then I turn and slide the patio door shut until the handle clicks tight against the frame.

  And now everything is silent.

  Looking across the dining room, all I see is an old table and some abandoned chairs. I guess the furniture was left after this place was abandoned, and there sure as hell isn't any heating. Jake's uncle really must have forgotten the place. A moment later, just as I'm starting to wonder where Jake went, I hear a bump nearby and I turn to see his silhouette against one of the other doors.

  “So this is the house where those girls went missing, right?” I ask.

  “Say what?”

  He sounds bored.

  “This is where those girls went missing,” I continue, crossing my arms across my chest and rubbing my shoulders to keep warm. I can see my breath in the air. “It was on the news a few years ago. Three girls went missing here, or was it four? They had the parents under suspicion, but I don't remember if anything came of it. But this is definitely the house.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You must know.”

  “I don't know a damn thing. It's just a house.”

  “But -”

  “It doesn't matter if anything happened here in the past,” he adds. “That was then. This is now. Come on.”

  I watch as his silhouette disappears through a doorway into another room. Figuring that I can't turn back after I've come this far, I make my way carefully through the darkness, while wishing that I'd remembered to charge my cellphone before I came out. I'm not one of those girls who spend all day staring at a screen, but right now I wouldn't mind a flashlight of some kind. I can barely see where I'm going, although when I get to the door I spot three framed photos on a nearby wall.

  Stepping closer, I see that the photos show three little girls, each of them smiling at the camera.

  “Holy crap,” I whisper, “is this them?”

  “Is what who?”

&n
bsp; “The girls. What were their names again?”

  “Beats me. Come check this out.”

  “The Chapmans,” I continue, as I start to remember a little more about what happened. “Yeah, that's it, the Chapmans. Katie, Lizzie and Wendy Chapman. I don't remember which was which, but those were their names. They lived here with their parents, and then one night all three of them vanished and were never seen again. It was on the news. Like, there wasn't even a trace of blood anywhere, and I think eventually their parents...”

  I hesitate for a moment, staring at the photos, as a sense of dread flutters through my chest.

  “Crap, I remember,” I whisper. “Their parents were released after questioning, and then they were found dead.”

  Jake doesn't reply. It sounds like he's bumping about in the next room.

  “They were found dead here,” I add, and now a shudder runs up my spine. “Holy crap, that's right! The three girls vanished from this house, and then like a week later the parents killed themselves here. No wonder your uncle leaves the place empty. It's only, what, a few years since it all happened? Five? Ten? Whatever. No-one in their right mind would ever want to rent this house. It should be torn down.”

  “What are you on about now?” Jake asks.

  “This house!”

  I stare for a moment longer at the photos of the smiling, happy blonde-haired girls. Finally, I reach out and use a finger to tilt one of the frames until it's crooked. I don't even know why I did that, but somehow it just feels right. I consider straightening the picture for a moment, before turning and carefully heading through into the lounge. Jake is over by the window, peering out at the street, silhouetted against the dusty moonlit glass. He's hot, and I'm still considering letting him be my first, but I can't deny that he also seems just a little weird.

  “You've brought me to a goddamn haunted house!” I tell him.

  “As if.”

  “Seriously! Two people definitely died here, and three more vanished. I mean, it's obvious that those girls were murdered.”

  “Is it?”

  “Totally! Everyone knew it was the parents, too! They just couldn't pin it on them!”

  “If you say so.”

  “My grandmother says so,” I continue, bumping against an old couch in the dark as I make my way across the room. “She's got an incredible sixth sense when it comes to stuff like that. Any time there's a murder mentioned on the news, she always says within thirty seconds who did it. And do you know what? She's always right, even if the police take forever to come to the same conclusion.”

  “Sounds like your grandmother should be consulting for them,” he mutters.

  “She totally should. She's, like, psychic or something.”

  As I reach him, I see that he's still looking out at the street. Following his gaze, I see nothing except the dark front garden and the empty road. It's well past midnight, and there aren't many lights on in the other houses. We're in a pretty quiet part of town, well away from the hustle of the main street. I've always dreamed of living in a place like this some day. I guess I should dream of being a rebel and exploring the world, but instead I tend to dream of living in a nice house with a nice husband and having nice kids. I can't help it if my dreams are a little conventional.

  “The two houses on either side of this one are empty, aren't they?” I continue.

  He turns to me. “They are?”

  “I've heard about it. Not only does nobody want to live in this place, but nobody wants to live next door, either. I heard that people heard stuff going on in here.”

  “That doesn't sound very likely.”

  “You don't believe in stuff like ghosts and the paranormal?”

  I wait for a reply, but he's just staring at me now. God, he's so hot, and for a moment I find myself wondering if he's going to make a move. I've been giving him enough signals all night, but he seems like he has something on his mind. Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense and he knows I'm a virgin, and he's not turned on by inexperienced girls. Maybe he likes wild girls, and he's worried I'm too vanilla. Sure enough, a moment later, he turns and heads toward the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, trying not to panic at the thought that he finds me boring.

  “Aren't you cold?”

  “Sure. I'm freezing. I guess there's no heat in this place, is there?”

  “Only the heat we make ourselves.”

  I immediately start blushing, although I guess hopefully it's not too obvious in the moonlight. I know I should say something, maybe ask if he has protection, but I'm too embarrassed to get any words out.

  “Let's take a look upstairs,” he continues, and now his smile has returned.

  “Upstairs?” I stammer.

  I wait for a reply, but I'm not even sure he heard me now that he's out in the hallway. I've got to be honest, I'm an adventurous kind of girl, but I'd kind of like to be somewhere with a few more comforts. I mean, even a motel room would be better than a freezing cold house where a bunch of people died and vanished. Then again, Jake's always seemed like a slightly far-out guy, ever since he moved to the area a few months back, and I guess I should have realized that he'd be into some weird stuff. I could totally back out and just go home like some kind of lame-ass, but I'd never be able to live with myself. Everyone wants to get with Jake. I can't turn this down.

  Besides, when I'm happily married to a successful guy in a few years' time, I might enjoy looking back at one night of craziness. Everyone has to live a little once or twice, right?

  “So have you brought anyone else here?” I ask, as I wander toward the doorway. “Let me guess. You bring a different girl to this house each night, don't you?”

  Stopping, I see that he's already halfway up the stairs, silhouetted against the moonlit wall. He turns to me, and for a moment he seems content to just stare.

  “What do you mean?” he asks finally.

  “I was just wondering whether -”

  Before I can finish, I hear a faint bump coming from one of the upstairs rooms. My heart immediately jumps in my chest, and I almost take a step back, but I manage to keep from panicking. Ordinarily I would be out of here by now, but I keep telling myself that for once I have to be adventurous and not back out. Tonight's the night, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life if I chicken out.

  “Who else is here?” I ask cautiously.

  “No-one.”

  “Are you sure? I thought I just heard someone.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “There was a bump, Jake!”

  “I didn't hear anything. You're probably just freaking out because of the history of the place. Come on, there's no need to be such a -”

  He stops before he can finish the sentence.

  “There's no need to be such a what?” I ask cautiously.

  “Never mind.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing. Come on, I want to get warm. There's something up here that I really want to show you.”

  “Sure, but...”

  My voice trails off for a moment. I still don't feel quite right about all of this, but at the same time I don't want to be a lame quitter. I guess I'm just letting this creepy, cold, dark house get to me, but tomorrow morning I'll be wondering what all the fuss was about. Taking a deep breath, I realize that tomorrow morning I won't be a virgin anymore. I'll be an experienced woman. And when my wedding night finally comes, with whoever I eventually marry, I won't be totally out of my depth. Losing my virginity with Jake tonight is really an investment in my future.

  “Do you promise me,” I continue, “that there's nobody else in this house?”

  “I promise.”

  “Like, hand on heart?”

  “Whatever you want. I promise. Now come on, I think it's actually getting colder.”

  With that, he turns and heads up to the landing.

  “Please let it not hurt too much,” I mutter under my breath, as I head to the
bottom of the stairs and start going up to join him. “If it's just -”

  Suddenly I let out a gasp as the first step breaks under my foot. I fall forward, landing hard against the other steps, and when I look down I see that the first step broke straight down the middle and then came away entirely.

  “Damn it!” I hiss, kicking the stupid thing away.

  Standing up, I find that at least I'm not hurt.

  “This place is a total deathtrap!” I call up to Jake, but the only reply is the sound of him opening a door at the top of the stairs. I watch as he disappears inside, and then I realize that I have no choice. I have to go up there and let the night unfold.

  I have a strange tightening sensation in my chest. Anticipation, I guess. After several close calls and moments of doubt, I'm finally going to do it. I know this night with Jake won't be perfect, but I'm sick of waiting for perfection. I'm just going to get it out of the way, and then I can start thinking about the future. Jake might not be husband material, or even boyfriend material, but I think he'll be perfect for my first time.

  “Okay,” I call out, trying to sound like I'm not a complete nervous wreck as I make my way up the stairs. “Just remember to be gentle, okay? I don't like it when people get too rough.”

  Part Two

  Angela – June 23rd, 2008

  “Hey, what the hell? Is this that house where those creepy little kids went missing?”

  Reaching out to steady myself against the wall, I stare at the framed photos and see the faces of three blonde girls staring back out at me. They all look so perfectly adorable, I want to wipe the smiles off their faces.

  “It totally is!” I continue, taking a deep drag on my cigarette and then blowing smoke out into the freezing night air. “These little shits were all over the news a few years back! Weren't they, like, knocked off by their parents or something?”

  Stepping back, I lean against the wall and squint a little to get the pictures in focus. To be honest, I think maybe I drank a little too much tequila tonight, and my head is spinning. Then again, at least tequila keeps me warm, which is more than I can say for anything or anyone else in this goddamn icebox of a house. I take another drag on my cigarette, and then I drink some more tequila from the bottle in my right hand, and then I reach out and straighten one of the photos, which has been hanging crooked.