‘Though my love has gone away
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me’
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me’
Not again. It was the third night in a row that Ben had woken with that damn verse going around in his head. He had no idea where it had come from, didn’t remember having heard it during the day. Maybe he’d been dreaming, though he couldn’t remember any dream either. Just a woman’s voice, singing those words over and over until he felt he’d go mad. Even after he’d opened his eyes and lay staring at the shadows of the ceiling, it didn’t go away.
The first night he had dismissed it as the echoes of a dream that had vanished the moment he had woken. The second, he had wondered if he had eaten something that had brought it on. Cheese, his grandmother had always sworn. ‘Cheese before bed will give you bad dreams, Ben.’ Though he’d never believed her, he’d begun to wonder if she was right. But when it had come again, tonight... Each time it came it was louder, as if the singer was moving slowly closer. And although the voice was soft, beguiling even, couldn’t he detect a hint of menace behind it’s sweet tones? Goosebumps prickled his skin.
‘Come on, Ben. Man up! There’s nothing here but you and your duvet.’ The sound of his own voice calmed Ben’s nerves. He was being irrational, letting his imagination get the better of him. He pulled the duvet up to his chin and closed his eyes only to immediately sit bolt upright again, his heart racing. Clear bell-like laughter was rippling like a bubbling spring. Inside his room. He fumbled for the bedside lamp switch, blinking in the sudden brightness. The room was empty. Of course it was. He had locked the door, as he had learned to do on the evenings his best friend and flat mate Luke headed out to the pub, to prevent Luke stumbling in and crashing onto his bed after a few too many. He listened hard. The house was as silent as he expected. At 2am on a Wednesday night, the world was asleep. In the bright light, his fear suddenly seemed ridiculous.
‘Just your imagination, Ben,’ he scolded. ‘You’re letting it run riot. Get a grip.’ Feeling a little foolish that he had freaked out over what had to be some weird hallucination, he snuggled back under the duvet, reached out a hand and switched off the light. The almost full moon that streamed in through the window took the edge off the darkness, filling the room with a soft, reassuring silver glow. Ben’s heartbeat slowly steadied, and at last he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
The first night he had dismissed it as the echoes of a dream that had vanished the moment he had woken. The second, he had wondered if he had eaten something that had brought it on. Cheese, his grandmother had always sworn. ‘Cheese before bed will give you bad dreams, Ben.’ Though he’d never believed her, he’d begun to wonder if she was right. But when it had come again, tonight... Each time it came it was louder, as if the singer was moving slowly closer. And although the voice was soft, beguiling even, couldn’t he detect a hint of menace behind it’s sweet tones? Goosebumps prickled his skin.
‘Come on, Ben. Man up! There’s nothing here but you and your duvet.’ The sound of his own voice calmed Ben’s nerves. He was being irrational, letting his imagination get the better of him. He pulled the duvet up to his chin and closed his eyes only to immediately sit bolt upright again, his heart racing. Clear bell-like laughter was rippling like a bubbling spring. Inside his room. He fumbled for the bedside lamp switch, blinking in the sudden brightness. The room was empty. Of course it was. He had locked the door, as he had learned to do on the evenings his best friend and flat mate Luke headed out to the pub, to prevent Luke stumbling in and crashing onto his bed after a few too many. He listened hard. The house was as silent as he expected. At 2am on a Wednesday night, the world was asleep. In the bright light, his fear suddenly seemed ridiculous.
‘Just your imagination, Ben,’ he scolded. ‘You’re letting it run riot. Get a grip.’ Feeling a little foolish that he had freaked out over what had to be some weird hallucination, he snuggled back under the duvet, reached out a hand and switched off the light. The almost full moon that streamed in through the window took the edge off the darkness, filling the room with a soft, reassuring silver glow. Ben’s heartbeat slowly steadied, and at last he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
‘Though my love has gone away
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me.’
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me.’
Huddled under the bedclothes, which he had pulled right up over his head and held there by knuckles white with terror, Ben’s heart thudded painfully against his ribcage. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if doing so would also shut out the voice. What the hell was going on? If this was one of his friends playing a joke on him, it wasn’t funny, as that friend would soon discover.
* * * * *
The next night brought no respite. Yet again, Ben woke to that same song in that same sweet, captivating voice. Having convinced himself that, despite their fervent denials, one of his friends was responsible, he was ready. He leaped out of bed and darted to the door, unlocked it and flung it open in one swift movement – only to stop in his tracks. The hall outside was empty. OK, then somehow they had hidden a remote-controlled MP3 player or the like in his room. Shivering in the biting cold of a mid-December night, he searched every possible hiding place: under the bed, in his dresser drawers, even behind the dresser. In the wardrobe and amongst his pile of computer games. Nothing. Puzzled – and by now chilled to the bone – Ben hurried back to the warmth of his bed. A peal of laughter turned the chill to ice.
‘Who are you?’ He demanded to the empty, lit room. His voice wavered a little, he noticed.
Again that laugh, amused and gentle, and yet... He shivered violently. It had an edge that he sensed rather than heard. A subtle suggestion that below the sweetness lay the barely detectable shadow of some indefinable malevolence.
‘Who are you?’
‘It’s me, my beloved. Your Leonora. Do you not remember me?’
Who the hell was Leonora?
‘I vowed that I would find you, William. It has taken a long time but at last I have. Now we can be together again. Forever.’
And who the hell was William? Whoever this woman – ghost? spirit? figment of his imagination? – was, she was making a big mistake.
‘You’ve got it all wrong. I’m Ben, not William. Now leave me alone and go back to... wherever it is you’ve come from.’
He jerked back. Unseen lips – soft, fragrant, and cold as death – pressed against his. Invisible icy fingers caressed his cheek. Terrified beyond reason, he tried to call out. No sound escaped his lips. He tried to fight. His limbs refused to obey
‘There is no mistake. You are my William and I will never leave you. This I swear, my beloved. And you will never leave me. Never again.’ Soft words wrapped around a core of iron, the menace, the malevolence, no longer hiding. ‘Come, William. Come with me now.’
‘No.’
‘You will.’ Commanding him. Expecting – and accepting – no refusal.
‘W- who are you? What do you want with me?’ The question formed in his mind, broken and trembling, and yet the invisible presence heard him. His words, it appeared, had angered her.
‘You do not remember me?’ Irritation. Impatience. Then softening. ‘No, perhaps you would not. It has been a long time. A very long time.’ He sensed she was smiling and the ice in his veins grew colder. ‘I have already told you my name. I am Leonora. Your Leonora. Your beloved.’
‘I don’t know any Leonora.’
‘Perhaps not now, no. But you did once. We were betrothed, promised to one another. So deeply in love. Until that witch Violetta cast a spell on you and stole you from me.
‘I came after you, William, did you know that? I found that trollop and made certain she would never be with you. Do you understand? I saved you from her. And then I waited for you, to show you what I had done from the depths of my love. I waited – to hear your thanks, to feel your love. Taste your kisses. Only you never came back. I waited for you, I waited oh so long, while her corpse rotted beside me. But you didn’t come back.’ Disbelief. Grief. Fury. ‘But none of that matters any more, because I’ve found you again, as I swore I would.’
This time, Ben’s fear gave him strength. ‘Will you listen to me? I’M NOT WILLIAM!’
‘Oh, but you are.’ Commanding. Terrifyingly implacable. ‘And now that I have found you, I will not let you go again. Come.’
‘No!’
‘COME!’ Clouds swept across the plump, pregnant moon, plunging the room into total darkness. He couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating, being smothered by... what? There was nothing there. And yet there was. A crushing, malignant force was slowly squeezing the breath – and life – from him.
‘NO!’ Summoning up every ounce of willpower he fought against it, blind terror giving him a strength he hadn’t known he possessed, instinctively knowing that if he lost this battle, he would lose everything. ‘NO!’ This time the shout echoed loudly into the night-filled room. He flung himself sideways off the bed, crashing onto the floor.
‘Oh, but my darling, you will.’ Cold. Arrogantly certain. ‘You have no choice. I desire it, and so it will be. You cannot resist your destiny. You cannot resist me.’
‘Ben? Are you OK?’ Luke was hammering on the door.
‘No,’ Ben gasped out. ‘Help!’
The door flew open, practically torn from its hinges; Luke stood there staring down in bewilderment at the terrified, shaking Ben. And an empty room. She was gone
‘Who are you?’ He demanded to the empty, lit room. His voice wavered a little, he noticed.
Again that laugh, amused and gentle, and yet... He shivered violently. It had an edge that he sensed rather than heard. A subtle suggestion that below the sweetness lay the barely detectable shadow of some indefinable malevolence.
‘Who are you?’
‘It’s me, my beloved. Your Leonora. Do you not remember me?’
Who the hell was Leonora?
‘I vowed that I would find you, William. It has taken a long time but at last I have. Now we can be together again. Forever.’
And who the hell was William? Whoever this woman – ghost? spirit? figment of his imagination? – was, she was making a big mistake.
‘You’ve got it all wrong. I’m Ben, not William. Now leave me alone and go back to... wherever it is you’ve come from.’
He jerked back. Unseen lips – soft, fragrant, and cold as death – pressed against his. Invisible icy fingers caressed his cheek. Terrified beyond reason, he tried to call out. No sound escaped his lips. He tried to fight. His limbs refused to obey
‘There is no mistake. You are my William and I will never leave you. This I swear, my beloved. And you will never leave me. Never again.’ Soft words wrapped around a core of iron, the menace, the malevolence, no longer hiding. ‘Come, William. Come with me now.’
‘No.’
‘You will.’ Commanding him. Expecting – and accepting – no refusal.
‘W- who are you? What do you want with me?’ The question formed in his mind, broken and trembling, and yet the invisible presence heard him. His words, it appeared, had angered her.
‘You do not remember me?’ Irritation. Impatience. Then softening. ‘No, perhaps you would not. It has been a long time. A very long time.’ He sensed she was smiling and the ice in his veins grew colder. ‘I have already told you my name. I am Leonora. Your Leonora. Your beloved.’
‘I don’t know any Leonora.’
‘Perhaps not now, no. But you did once. We were betrothed, promised to one another. So deeply in love. Until that witch Violetta cast a spell on you and stole you from me.
‘I came after you, William, did you know that? I found that trollop and made certain she would never be with you. Do you understand? I saved you from her. And then I waited for you, to show you what I had done from the depths of my love. I waited – to hear your thanks, to feel your love. Taste your kisses. Only you never came back. I waited for you, I waited oh so long, while her corpse rotted beside me. But you didn’t come back.’ Disbelief. Grief. Fury. ‘But none of that matters any more, because I’ve found you again, as I swore I would.’
This time, Ben’s fear gave him strength. ‘Will you listen to me? I’M NOT WILLIAM!’
‘Oh, but you are.’ Commanding. Terrifyingly implacable. ‘And now that I have found you, I will not let you go again. Come.’
‘No!’
‘COME!’ Clouds swept across the plump, pregnant moon, plunging the room into total darkness. He couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating, being smothered by... what? There was nothing there. And yet there was. A crushing, malignant force was slowly squeezing the breath – and life – from him.
‘NO!’ Summoning up every ounce of willpower he fought against it, blind terror giving him a strength he hadn’t known he possessed, instinctively knowing that if he lost this battle, he would lose everything. ‘NO!’ This time the shout echoed loudly into the night-filled room. He flung himself sideways off the bed, crashing onto the floor.
‘Oh, but my darling, you will.’ Cold. Arrogantly certain. ‘You have no choice. I desire it, and so it will be. You cannot resist your destiny. You cannot resist me.’
‘Ben? Are you OK?’ Luke was hammering on the door.
‘No,’ Ben gasped out. ‘Help!’
The door flew open, practically torn from its hinges; Luke stood there staring down in bewilderment at the terrified, shaking Ben. And an empty room. She was gone
* * * * *
‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’ Luke was adamant.
‘Neither do I. At least... I didn’t.’ Ben was still shaking, the glass in his hand threatening to spill its Jack Daniels in his lap, his face the colour of raw pastry. ‘But if that wasn’t a ghost, what in God’s name was it?’
‘It has to have been. What other explanation can there be?’ Sophie, Luke’s girlfriend – and Ben’s younger sister – studied her brother’s hunched form with concern.
‘A nightmare?’ Luke offered. ‘Though it must have been a doozy, the state you’re in.’
‘A nightmare wouldn’t leave him like this.’ Sophie shook her head firmly. ‘No, something real happened in there to scare the wits out of him.’
‘Ghosts aren’t real.’ Luke was sticking to his guns.
‘Maybe not. But maybe, just maybe, they are.’ Sophie was sticking to hers too.
‘This one definitely was.’ Ben’s voice still wavered. ‘And wherever it came from, it was out to get me. The question isn’t whether ghosts are real or not. It’s what the hell am I going to do when she... it... comes back? Because she’s going to.’
‘Knowledge is power.’ Sophie grabbed her laptop. ‘Let’s see if Google can enlighten us.’
Ten minutes later, she let out a yell of triumph. ‘Yes! Got it. Listen to this. I found it under local legends.’ She scanned the text on the screen. ‘“Leonora was reputed to be a sorceress of not inconsiderable power, who practised the darker side of magic”. Uh...’ she scanned the text, summarising. ‘People apparently looked on her with fear and trod carefully around her because she was so quick to take offence and exact revenge. While she was unbelievably beautiful on the outside, she was far from it on the inside. Wheeeuw! How on earth did you get mixed up with that, Ben?’
‘I didn’t! I haven’t a clue why she’s after me – if that’s who it is.’
‘Well, it says here that William – that’s what she called you, wasn’t it?’ Ben nodded miserably. She carried on. ‘William was the local squire’s eldest son, handsome, strong and wealthy. A good catch.’ She looked at her brother and grinned. ‘Nothing like you then.’ He pulled a face at her and she grinned again, turning back to the screen. ‘Where was I? Oh yes... Anyway, Leonora was besotted with William but despite of her beauty, he had no time for her. He could see through it to what lay beneath, which made him immune to her charms. The legend tells that she refused to accept his rejection and somehow got him to drink a love potion to make him fall in love with her.’
Luke shuddered. ‘She doesn’t sound like someone you’d want to hang around with. Sorry, Ben.’
‘She wasn’t! There’s more. Listen. William was already deeply in love with a young woman called Violetta and everyone expected them to marry. According to this story, their love proved too strong for Leonora’s magic and quickly broke the spell she’d cast over him. Knowing Leonora would want revenge, the lovers fled. Their fate was sealed when Leonora found out where they were hiding. And I quote, “Leonora discovered Violetta, alone and defenceless, in a cottage in a forest two days’ walk from her home and bound her rival with a terrible and devilish spell that rendered her unable to move. Poor Violetta could not run, could not escape Leonora’s vengeance. On the stroke of midnight by the far-off abbey bell, as Christmas Eve passed into Christmas Day, under a full moon that glistened down on a snow-blanketed landscape, and with victory glittering ice cold in her eyes, Leonora plunged a knife deep into Violetta’s warm flesh, piercing her heart. Immediately, there rose up such a howling of wolves as had never been heard before in the forest, an unearthly sound that froze the blood of all those who heard it so that they hastened to fasten tight their windows and bar their doors. In the abbey, the monks prayed for salvation, for although it was Christmas Day they saw that evil walked the land.”
‘Apparently, Leonora waited for days by Violetta’s body for William to return, only he never did. The article says that “the wolves’ cries warned him of his beloved Violetta’s fate and, knowing she was dead and that he had returned too late to help her, he turned and fled, tears streaming down to freeze on his cheeks and his heart breaking with grief. As he ran, Leonora’s song followed his footsteps. She never saw him again.”’
‘That’s exactly what she told me.’ It came out as a ragged whisper.
Luke and Sophie stared at him in astonishment. ‘She said that?’
‘She said that she had waited for William beside Violetta’s rotting corpse, only he never returned. Is that all, Sophie?’
‘Um... Leonora swore that she wouldn’t rest until she’d found him, only she didn’t get the chance because less than a year later she was tried and hung as a witch. That’s all it says.’
‘A witch trial? How long ago did all this happen?’
‘1642.’
‘1642? You mean I’ve got a four hundred and something year old spook after me – and a condemned witch spook at that?’
‘It seems so. Oh my God!’
‘What?’
Sophie stared at him, wild-eyed. ‘Christmas Day. That’s only three days away.’ Her fingers flew over the keyboard and when she spoke next, her voice shook. ‘I wish I wasn’t, but I’m right. This year, the full moon falls on Christmas Eve. That’s why she’s come back now. To get what she couldn’t get then. William. You!’
‘Christ!’ Ben drained his glass and held it out for a refill. ‘That’s mad. She’s mad. What can I do?’
‘I have no idea.’ She turned back to the keyboard. ‘There has to be an answer here somewhere.’
Luke was shaking his head helplessly, stunned by the events that were destroying everything he’d ever held to be true. ‘It’s out of my league,’ he muttered. Then he straightened. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be right again after this. Don’t worry, Ben. We won’t let her get anywhere near you again. Found anything else, Soph?’
‘Yes. Her body is supposed to have been buried at the crossroads, which was the custom for witches and heretics because, it says here, it was believed that the crossed roads confused the spirits of the dead and stopped them returning to “wander abroad and haunt the living”. They must have been really afraid of her; as well as that, they placed a huge rock on top of her grave to stop her rising from it.’
‘That worked well. Not!’ Ben sank lower in the chair. The situation was hopeless.
‘Maybe if we can find it...?’
‘It’s not going to still be there, Soph, not after more than four hundred years. This town has doubled in size in the last twenty years alone. She’s probably stuck under a car park or a supermarket by now.’
‘Not necessarily.’ She peered at the screen. ‘Leonora lived in Hamworthy, which was in those days only a tiny hamlet of no more than half a dozen shacks.’ She sat up and stared at her two companions. ‘It’s still only a small village, isn’t it? The lanes around it can’t have changed much in generations.’
‘What good would it do?’ Luke was obviously unconvinced.
‘I don’t know,’ she burst out, exasperated. ‘But it’s a start. You haven’t come up with any brilliant ideas.’
‘Anything is better than sitting back waiting for this Leonora psycho-spook to make another house call. And if she’s got a deadline of midnight on Christmas Eve, the sooner the better. Like today. I’ll call in to work and tell them I’m sick.’ Which, given Ben’s still deathly pallor, wasn’t so far from the truth.
‘You’ll have to count me out. I’ve got a day full of meetings I can’t miss.’ Luke didn’t look particularly disappointed.
‘I’ll come,’ Sophie offered. ‘It’s my day off, and I guess you’d appreciate some back-up. In any case, I’m not sure I’d like the idea of my big brother heading into this on his own.’
Ben nodded. ‘Thanks Sophie. I can’t say it’s an adventure I’m looking forward to.’
‘Neither do I. At least... I didn’t.’ Ben was still shaking, the glass in his hand threatening to spill its Jack Daniels in his lap, his face the colour of raw pastry. ‘But if that wasn’t a ghost, what in God’s name was it?’
‘It has to have been. What other explanation can there be?’ Sophie, Luke’s girlfriend – and Ben’s younger sister – studied her brother’s hunched form with concern.
‘A nightmare?’ Luke offered. ‘Though it must have been a doozy, the state you’re in.’
‘A nightmare wouldn’t leave him like this.’ Sophie shook her head firmly. ‘No, something real happened in there to scare the wits out of him.’
‘Ghosts aren’t real.’ Luke was sticking to his guns.
‘Maybe not. But maybe, just maybe, they are.’ Sophie was sticking to hers too.
‘This one definitely was.’ Ben’s voice still wavered. ‘And wherever it came from, it was out to get me. The question isn’t whether ghosts are real or not. It’s what the hell am I going to do when she... it... comes back? Because she’s going to.’
‘Knowledge is power.’ Sophie grabbed her laptop. ‘Let’s see if Google can enlighten us.’
Ten minutes later, she let out a yell of triumph. ‘Yes! Got it. Listen to this. I found it under local legends.’ She scanned the text on the screen. ‘“Leonora was reputed to be a sorceress of not inconsiderable power, who practised the darker side of magic”. Uh...’ she scanned the text, summarising. ‘People apparently looked on her with fear and trod carefully around her because she was so quick to take offence and exact revenge. While she was unbelievably beautiful on the outside, she was far from it on the inside. Wheeeuw! How on earth did you get mixed up with that, Ben?’
‘I didn’t! I haven’t a clue why she’s after me – if that’s who it is.’
‘Well, it says here that William – that’s what she called you, wasn’t it?’ Ben nodded miserably. She carried on. ‘William was the local squire’s eldest son, handsome, strong and wealthy. A good catch.’ She looked at her brother and grinned. ‘Nothing like you then.’ He pulled a face at her and she grinned again, turning back to the screen. ‘Where was I? Oh yes... Anyway, Leonora was besotted with William but despite of her beauty, he had no time for her. He could see through it to what lay beneath, which made him immune to her charms. The legend tells that she refused to accept his rejection and somehow got him to drink a love potion to make him fall in love with her.’
Luke shuddered. ‘She doesn’t sound like someone you’d want to hang around with. Sorry, Ben.’
‘She wasn’t! There’s more. Listen. William was already deeply in love with a young woman called Violetta and everyone expected them to marry. According to this story, their love proved too strong for Leonora’s magic and quickly broke the spell she’d cast over him. Knowing Leonora would want revenge, the lovers fled. Their fate was sealed when Leonora found out where they were hiding. And I quote, “Leonora discovered Violetta, alone and defenceless, in a cottage in a forest two days’ walk from her home and bound her rival with a terrible and devilish spell that rendered her unable to move. Poor Violetta could not run, could not escape Leonora’s vengeance. On the stroke of midnight by the far-off abbey bell, as Christmas Eve passed into Christmas Day, under a full moon that glistened down on a snow-blanketed landscape, and with victory glittering ice cold in her eyes, Leonora plunged a knife deep into Violetta’s warm flesh, piercing her heart. Immediately, there rose up such a howling of wolves as had never been heard before in the forest, an unearthly sound that froze the blood of all those who heard it so that they hastened to fasten tight their windows and bar their doors. In the abbey, the monks prayed for salvation, for although it was Christmas Day they saw that evil walked the land.”
‘Apparently, Leonora waited for days by Violetta’s body for William to return, only he never did. The article says that “the wolves’ cries warned him of his beloved Violetta’s fate and, knowing she was dead and that he had returned too late to help her, he turned and fled, tears streaming down to freeze on his cheeks and his heart breaking with grief. As he ran, Leonora’s song followed his footsteps. She never saw him again.”’
‘That’s exactly what she told me.’ It came out as a ragged whisper.
Luke and Sophie stared at him in astonishment. ‘She said that?’
‘She said that she had waited for William beside Violetta’s rotting corpse, only he never returned. Is that all, Sophie?’
‘Um... Leonora swore that she wouldn’t rest until she’d found him, only she didn’t get the chance because less than a year later she was tried and hung as a witch. That’s all it says.’
‘A witch trial? How long ago did all this happen?’
‘1642.’
‘1642? You mean I’ve got a four hundred and something year old spook after me – and a condemned witch spook at that?’
‘It seems so. Oh my God!’
‘What?’
Sophie stared at him, wild-eyed. ‘Christmas Day. That’s only three days away.’ Her fingers flew over the keyboard and when she spoke next, her voice shook. ‘I wish I wasn’t, but I’m right. This year, the full moon falls on Christmas Eve. That’s why she’s come back now. To get what she couldn’t get then. William. You!’
‘Christ!’ Ben drained his glass and held it out for a refill. ‘That’s mad. She’s mad. What can I do?’
‘I have no idea.’ She turned back to the keyboard. ‘There has to be an answer here somewhere.’
Luke was shaking his head helplessly, stunned by the events that were destroying everything he’d ever held to be true. ‘It’s out of my league,’ he muttered. Then he straightened. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be right again after this. Don’t worry, Ben. We won’t let her get anywhere near you again. Found anything else, Soph?’
‘Yes. Her body is supposed to have been buried at the crossroads, which was the custom for witches and heretics because, it says here, it was believed that the crossed roads confused the spirits of the dead and stopped them returning to “wander abroad and haunt the living”. They must have been really afraid of her; as well as that, they placed a huge rock on top of her grave to stop her rising from it.’
‘That worked well. Not!’ Ben sank lower in the chair. The situation was hopeless.
‘Maybe if we can find it...?’
‘It’s not going to still be there, Soph, not after more than four hundred years. This town has doubled in size in the last twenty years alone. She’s probably stuck under a car park or a supermarket by now.’
‘Not necessarily.’ She peered at the screen. ‘Leonora lived in Hamworthy, which was in those days only a tiny hamlet of no more than half a dozen shacks.’ She sat up and stared at her two companions. ‘It’s still only a small village, isn’t it? The lanes around it can’t have changed much in generations.’
‘What good would it do?’ Luke was obviously unconvinced.
‘I don’t know,’ she burst out, exasperated. ‘But it’s a start. You haven’t come up with any brilliant ideas.’
‘Anything is better than sitting back waiting for this Leonora psycho-spook to make another house call. And if she’s got a deadline of midnight on Christmas Eve, the sooner the better. Like today. I’ll call in to work and tell them I’m sick.’ Which, given Ben’s still deathly pallor, wasn’t so far from the truth.
‘You’ll have to count me out. I’ve got a day full of meetings I can’t miss.’ Luke didn’t look particularly disappointed.
‘I’ll come,’ Sophie offered. ‘It’s my day off, and I guess you’d appreciate some back-up. In any case, I’m not sure I’d like the idea of my big brother heading into this on his own.’
Ben nodded. ‘Thanks Sophie. I can’t say it’s an adventure I’m looking forward to.’
* * * * *
There were two crossroads in Hamworthy, one at each end of the village. They found what they were looking for at the second, at the northernmost end of the parish boundary. Nothing indicated the presence of an ancient grave, although the name on the signpost, Gibbett Cross, gave a grim clue to its history. And at the base of the signpost, just as the internet article had indicated, lay a massive lump of granite, measuring roughly six feet long by four feet across by three deep.
Sophie shuddered. ‘This place gives me the creeps.’ Even under the bright sunshine and blue skies of the clear December morning, the rough patch of grass and brambles was steeped in a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. ‘No wonder the locals believe this place is haunted.’
Ben was ice-cold through to his core. This was the place. She was here. He could feel her presence; she knew he had come. He fought against the panic that crept through every cell of his body. What now?
‘I’ll find my love where’er he be, And bring him back to lie with me.’ The rock. He had to get to it. To touch it. He reached out towards it, the world around him slipping out of his grasp. The crossroads, the car, Sophie – they were distant, hazy, like he was walking through a dream.
‘No, Ben. Don’t.’ Sophie grabbed his arm, rousing him from his stupor. ‘You mustn’t.’
‘Why not?’ He didn’t want to go with her. He had to go to the rock, and yet even as he pulled his arm free, he understood that she was right. The rock held mortal danger. He gazed back at the massive granite boulder that held him in its grip.
‘I... I’m not sure. I just feel that if you touch that rock, she’ll have got you.’ Sophie was still pulling at him, forcing him back towards the car. ‘This wasn’t a good idea. We shouldn’t have come here. Ben! Come on.’ She had to physically shove him into the passenger seat and slam the door.
He was still reluctant to leave, looking back at Leonora’s grave as Sophie threw the car into gear and raced off, spinning the wheels in her haste to get him away. It was only after the crossroads had disappeared from view that his head cleared.
‘Well, there’s no doubt that we found the right place it,’ he muttered. Leonora’s song still whispered in his head, mocking him. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I have no idea.’ She took his hand and squeezed it tightly, overwhelmed by a deep anxiety for her brother’s safety, and a horrible foreboding that whatever they did, it wouldn’t be enough. She shook it off impatiently, refusing to accept it. ‘We’ll think of something. Come on. Let’s go home and talk there.’
Sophie shuddered. ‘This place gives me the creeps.’ Even under the bright sunshine and blue skies of the clear December morning, the rough patch of grass and brambles was steeped in a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. ‘No wonder the locals believe this place is haunted.’
Ben was ice-cold through to his core. This was the place. She was here. He could feel her presence; she knew he had come. He fought against the panic that crept through every cell of his body. What now?
‘I’ll find my love where’er he be, And bring him back to lie with me.’ The rock. He had to get to it. To touch it. He reached out towards it, the world around him slipping out of his grasp. The crossroads, the car, Sophie – they were distant, hazy, like he was walking through a dream.
‘No, Ben. Don’t.’ Sophie grabbed his arm, rousing him from his stupor. ‘You mustn’t.’
‘Why not?’ He didn’t want to go with her. He had to go to the rock, and yet even as he pulled his arm free, he understood that she was right. The rock held mortal danger. He gazed back at the massive granite boulder that held him in its grip.
‘I... I’m not sure. I just feel that if you touch that rock, she’ll have got you.’ Sophie was still pulling at him, forcing him back towards the car. ‘This wasn’t a good idea. We shouldn’t have come here. Ben! Come on.’ She had to physically shove him into the passenger seat and slam the door.
He was still reluctant to leave, looking back at Leonora’s grave as Sophie threw the car into gear and raced off, spinning the wheels in her haste to get him away. It was only after the crossroads had disappeared from view that his head cleared.
‘Well, there’s no doubt that we found the right place it,’ he muttered. Leonora’s song still whispered in his head, mocking him. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I have no idea.’ She took his hand and squeezed it tightly, overwhelmed by a deep anxiety for her brother’s safety, and a horrible foreboding that whatever they did, it wouldn’t be enough. She shook it off impatiently, refusing to accept it. ‘We’ll think of something. Come on. Let’s go home and talk there.’
* * * * *
‘We’ll sleep in your room for the next couple of nights, until Christmas Day, to keep guard.’ Luke had just learned of the morning’s events and was deeply concerned, finally convinced that, crazy as the whole situation seemed, it was real. ‘We can pull in the big chair for Sophie, and I’ll sleep on the floor.’ Sophie nodded her agreement.
‘I can’t say I wouldn’t welcome it.’ Ben was still shaken by the discovery that Leonora’s grave actually existed and by the irresistible pull it had held over him. ‘I’ll welcome the company, though I’m not sure what you can do.’
‘Everything possible.’ If he was honest, Luke wasn’t sure either, only that he wasn’t going to let his friend face this spectral danger alone
‘I can’t say I wouldn’t welcome it.’ Ben was still shaken by the discovery that Leonora’s grave actually existed and by the irresistible pull it had held over him. ‘I’ll welcome the company, though I’m not sure what you can do.’
‘Everything possible.’ If he was honest, Luke wasn’t sure either, only that he wasn’t going to let his friend face this spectral danger alone
* * * * *
Ben glanced at his phone. 6.30am. He had slept through the night. No Leonora. No ghostly disturbances. Had he imagined the whole scary situation? No, there had been too many baffling incidents to explain it away that easily. So why had she suddenly left him alone? In the early morning half-light, he could make out the silhouettes of Sophie and Luke, both of whom still slept peacefully, Luke’s occasional loud snore reassuring him that they were indeed asleep. Puzzled, he lay for a long while staring at the shadows on the ceiling, trying without success to make sense of it all.
‘Ben? Are you OK?’ Sophie was uncurled from the chair, her muscles stiff from the unfamiliar sleeping position.
‘Yes. Yes, I am. Nothing happened.’ It was true. For the first night in perhaps a week, not even the hint of Leonora’s song had disturbed him. ‘Perhaps she’s given up.’
‘Not a chance.’ Sophie was sombre. ‘She’s waited over four hundred years for this. She won’t give up now. It’s Christmas Eve. She’ll come again tonight.’
Much as he wanted to argue, to convince himself it was indeed all over, he knew Sophie was right. Tomorrow he could relax. Tonight, however, he would have to keep his wits around him.
‘Ben? Are you OK?’ Sophie was uncurled from the chair, her muscles stiff from the unfamiliar sleeping position.
‘Yes. Yes, I am. Nothing happened.’ It was true. For the first night in perhaps a week, not even the hint of Leonora’s song had disturbed him. ‘Perhaps she’s given up.’
‘Not a chance.’ Sophie was sombre. ‘She’s waited over four hundred years for this. She won’t give up now. It’s Christmas Eve. She’ll come again tonight.’
Much as he wanted to argue, to convince himself it was indeed all over, he knew Sophie was right. Tomorrow he could relax. Tonight, however, he would have to keep his wits around him.
* * * * *
They spent a subdued day, their concern over what might occur that evening dampening any semblance of seasonal spirit. They wanted to get Christmas Eve – and the night – over, after which all three firmly believed that Leonora’s threat would disappear. Tomorrow, they would celebrate Christmas. Today, there were more important issues at stake. Subdued and anxious they waited, ready to face what was to come awake and alert. Leonora had other plans, however. From beyond the grave she reached out, touching them with her dark magic; by eleven o’clock all three had fallen into a deep, unnatural sleep.
‘William. William. Wake up. It’s time, my love. Come.’
Ben’s eyes flew open, icy fingers of fear clutching at his heart. He blinked, and blinked again. Standing next to him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were the colour of spring leaves, and hair the colour of a raven’s wing flowed to her waist, only partially concealing the sheer robe that left little to his imagination. She smiled, and her spell was complete.
‘Come, William.’ She offered her hand.
‘I’m not William. I’m...’ Who was he?
‘Of course you’re William. My betrothed. Come, my beloved.’
Somewhere deep in his mind, resistance sparked. This wasn’t right. He mustn’t go with her. Danger...
Her breath was the kiss of snowflakes on his cheek. Her lips, as soft and sweet as ice cream, pressed onto his. They were cold, so cold; the chill crept through his body, seeping into flesh and bone, draining every last vestige of his will.
‘William. William. Wake up. It’s time, my love. Come.’
Ben’s eyes flew open, icy fingers of fear clutching at his heart. He blinked, and blinked again. Standing next to him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were the colour of spring leaves, and hair the colour of a raven’s wing flowed to her waist, only partially concealing the sheer robe that left little to his imagination. She smiled, and her spell was complete.
‘Come, William.’ She offered her hand.
‘I’m not William. I’m...’ Who was he?
‘Of course you’re William. My betrothed. Come, my beloved.’
Somewhere deep in his mind, resistance sparked. This wasn’t right. He mustn’t go with her. Danger...
Her breath was the kiss of snowflakes on his cheek. Her lips, as soft and sweet as ice cream, pressed onto his. They were cold, so cold; the chill crept through his body, seeping into flesh and bone, draining every last vestige of his will.
‘Though my love has gone away
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me.’
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll find my love where’er he be
And bring him back to lie with me.’
And that song, her song, repeating over and over again until he was aware of nothing else.
‘Though my love has gone away
I’ll bring him back to me one day
I’ll bring him back to me one day
He no longer thought or acted for himself. Leonora had claimed him.
‘Come, beloved. I wait for you.’ She floated away towards the window and the night beyond. ‘Come,’ she whispered.
Snared in her magic, Ben lifted the sash and clambered through after her. His dressing gown snagged on the catch and he shrugged out of it, landing in the street in just his boxers. Luke and Sophie slept on in their sorcery-induced slumber, oblivious to his peril.
It was close to freezing outside, but Ben felt nothing. In only his underwear, he strode through the dark Christmas night, seeing nothing of the streets he passed through, oblivious to the biting wind and sleet that blew down them. Through the town and out into the countryside, he followed Leonora and the song that she sang.
‘Come, beloved. I wait for you.’ She floated away towards the window and the night beyond. ‘Come,’ she whispered.
Snared in her magic, Ben lifted the sash and clambered through after her. His dressing gown snagged on the catch and he shrugged out of it, landing in the street in just his boxers. Luke and Sophie slept on in their sorcery-induced slumber, oblivious to his peril.
It was close to freezing outside, but Ben felt nothing. In only his underwear, he strode through the dark Christmas night, seeing nothing of the streets he passed through, oblivious to the biting wind and sleet that blew down them. Through the town and out into the countryside, he followed Leonora and the song that she sang.
* * * * *
‘Ben? Where is he? Where’s he gone?’ Sophie stared around the room, panic rising. ‘The window. It’s open. Luke, where’s Ben?’ She shivered in its arctic draught.
‘I know it’s open. I can feel the bloody cold coming in... Oh no!’ He had spotted Ben’s dressing gown hanging by the catch.
‘She came for him while we were asleep. She’s got him.’
‘We don’t know that, Soph.’ Except that they did know, with a dreadful, certain finality. He grabbed her hand. ‘The crossroads. That’s where she’ll have taken him. We’ve got to go to the crossroads. We may still be in time.’ Not wasting a precious minute changing out of their nightclothes, they raced to the car.
‘BEN!’ Sophie’s anguished howl cut across the squeal of the brakes as Luke slammed the car to a standstill. Her brother’s half-naked form lay sprawled across the huge granite chunk, his arms spread as if embracing it. ‘Ben?’
She skidded to a halt before she reached him, afraid she would discover her worst fears had been realised. Knowing they already had been. Wearing only his boxer shorts, Ben’s body was blue with cold in the frigid Christmas morning air. Hesitantly she moved closer. Ben’s sightless eyes stared back at her. She had never seen a dead body before and now she was standing in front of her big brother’s. Grief rocked her in a tidal wave of pain and she sank to the ground at his side, which was as cold as the rock he lay on, stroking his face and sobbing silently and uncontrollably. Ben was dead. She hadn’t been able to save him. Vaguely she became aware that Luke had spread a car rug over Ben’s body, and then his arms were around her, holding her as she wept, weeping himself for a lost friend he had been powerless to help.
Long after the police and ambulance had left, taking Ben’s away, she and Luke stood staring at the rock. It all appeared so normal, so harmless, under the clear pale December sky. It was just a rock, a big lump of granite put there by people of an older, more superstitious era. Couldn’t it have all been a tragic accident after all? She had to grasp hold of something, anything, real and tangible. Reason and logic fought to prevail. Ben must have suffered some kind of mental breakdown and imagined it all. He’d been working hard recently, maybe too hard? As for the internet article, couldn’t it have been simply an admittedly bizarre coincidence? Surely it was possible that he might have read it in the past, and the story resurfaced in his hallucinations. After all, she and Luke only had his word; they had never actually seen or heard anything unusual themselves. That had to be what it was. The explanation didn’t ease her grief. It did however ease her mind.
‘Come on, Soph. You can’t stay here all day.’ Luke drew her away gently. ‘You’re freezing. Let’s go home.’
The cold that had penetrated their bones suddenly cut a hundred times deeper. A woman had begun to sing, the sweet notes filling the air around the bleak, deserted crossroads.
‘I know it’s open. I can feel the bloody cold coming in... Oh no!’ He had spotted Ben’s dressing gown hanging by the catch.
‘She came for him while we were asleep. She’s got him.’
‘We don’t know that, Soph.’ Except that they did know, with a dreadful, certain finality. He grabbed her hand. ‘The crossroads. That’s where she’ll have taken him. We’ve got to go to the crossroads. We may still be in time.’ Not wasting a precious minute changing out of their nightclothes, they raced to the car.
‘BEN!’ Sophie’s anguished howl cut across the squeal of the brakes as Luke slammed the car to a standstill. Her brother’s half-naked form lay sprawled across the huge granite chunk, his arms spread as if embracing it. ‘Ben?’
She skidded to a halt before she reached him, afraid she would discover her worst fears had been realised. Knowing they already had been. Wearing only his boxer shorts, Ben’s body was blue with cold in the frigid Christmas morning air. Hesitantly she moved closer. Ben’s sightless eyes stared back at her. She had never seen a dead body before and now she was standing in front of her big brother’s. Grief rocked her in a tidal wave of pain and she sank to the ground at his side, which was as cold as the rock he lay on, stroking his face and sobbing silently and uncontrollably. Ben was dead. She hadn’t been able to save him. Vaguely she became aware that Luke had spread a car rug over Ben’s body, and then his arms were around her, holding her as she wept, weeping himself for a lost friend he had been powerless to help.
Long after the police and ambulance had left, taking Ben’s away, she and Luke stood staring at the rock. It all appeared so normal, so harmless, under the clear pale December sky. It was just a rock, a big lump of granite put there by people of an older, more superstitious era. Couldn’t it have all been a tragic accident after all? She had to grasp hold of something, anything, real and tangible. Reason and logic fought to prevail. Ben must have suffered some kind of mental breakdown and imagined it all. He’d been working hard recently, maybe too hard? As for the internet article, couldn’t it have been simply an admittedly bizarre coincidence? Surely it was possible that he might have read it in the past, and the story resurfaced in his hallucinations. After all, she and Luke only had his word; they had never actually seen or heard anything unusual themselves. That had to be what it was. The explanation didn’t ease her grief. It did however ease her mind.
‘Come on, Soph. You can’t stay here all day.’ Luke drew her away gently. ‘You’re freezing. Let’s go home.’
The cold that had penetrated their bones suddenly cut a hundred times deeper. A woman had begun to sing, the sweet notes filling the air around the bleak, deserted crossroads.
Though my love once went away
I’ve brought him back and here he’ll stay
I found my love where’er he be
And brought him back to lie with me.
I’ve brought him back and here he’ll stay
I found my love where’er he be
And brought him back to lie with me.
