Paranormal Intruder Read online

  ‘Don’t worry about it Joe, get in the car, we’re leaving.’

  Chris and Lee followed Joe out to the car.

  I turned to Neil as he locked the front door. ‘Fucking hell Neil, that was really loud… how did it do that?’

  ‘I don’t know, it was the same in the car. Let’s go before anything else happens.’ Neil took the car keys from me and giving one last glance behind him, got in the car.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Desperate Measures

  I was used to finding pictures of ghosts on my work tray and mock bottles of holy water lying around. In the early days, it was a relief to have a laugh and a joke about it. Police work was tough and the banter with my colleagues kept me going when I became worn down by it all. But I could no longer joke about it, and did not have the strength to go to work. I called into the station to drop in the medical note I was given by the doctors that morning, recommending at least two weeks off due to stress. It felt strange to me. I had never suffered with stress in my life, and was rarely off work with sickness. The Sergeant’s office was empty, but the boiling kettle in the kitchen suggested I was not alone.

  I poked my head around the corner in the parade room to see Brian, a police community support officer, tapping the keyboard of his computer with his index fingers. He never was very good at typing. He turned his head to greet me, and did a double take, his smile dropping on the second glance. ‘Bloody hell girl, are you OK? You look terrible,’ he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  I shook my head, trying to keep it together. ‘It’s been awful Brian. We’ve been forced out of our own home by this thing and I didn’t know what to do.’ Tears sprang in my eyes and I wiped them away with my fingers.

  Brian was a staunch atheist and had been very vocal in the past with regards to his lack of belief. He handed me a tissue and gently said, ‘You know I don’t normally believe in these things, but if you’re saying this is happening then I believe you.’ Brian ran a hand over his thinning hair. ‘Now sit down girl, and I’ll make you a cuppa.’

  I sat as instructed, twisting the tissue in my hands. I hated the fact I had become a victim. I was normally the one who held everything together, and felt shamefully weak.

  ###

  A few days later, Alice was performing in the Royal Albert Hall in London with a theatre group. She had worked hard all year practicing her performance, and it was a welcome distraction from what was going on at home. Neil’s parents arranged to drive.

  Valerie looked me over as she said, ‘Are you ready?’

  I nodded my head, and we made our way there. It was not until I went to the toilets halfway through the performance that I noticed just how bad I looked. I glanced in the mirror at my unmade face, shocked at the gaunt reflection staring back at me. ‘Oh, Caroline look at the state of you,’ I spoke to my reflection. My hair was scraped back into an unkempt ponytail, and my face had aged considerably. I was wearing the same scruffy jeans and trainers I had worn all week. ‘This is not me at all.’

  Normally I would have jumped at the chance to dress up for the occasion, and would rarely be seen without my makeup and jewellery. Embarrassment and shame washed over me. How could I go to see Alice perform in such a state? ‘No wonder Valerie asked me if I was ready,’ I muttered to myself. While making my way back to my seat I searched my bag, desperate to find some make up, but there was none. I looked around at the other women all suitably preened for the occasion. I was grateful for the dimming lights as the performance resumed and momentarily forgot my worries as Alice began to sing.

  I felt relieved to have some time off work, and committed myself to taking positive action. We stayed in Clacton and tried to decide what to do with our house. Financially we were not in a position to sell as the drop in house prices would have left us in negative equity. My mother tried to persuade us to move to Ireland. It was tempting and we considered it. We desperately wanted to be free of the entity that was making our lives a misery, but at what cost? It would mean giving up my job for one thing. I enquired about transferring to the Gardaí in Ireland but it was impossible. They did not take transferees and the cut off age was thirty five, which ruled me out anyway. Moving would also mean disrupting the children’s lives even more. I told my mother we would stay and face up to our problems.

  I considered renting, and surfed the Internet to see what was available. Short-term house lets were too expensive with large deposits up front. Neil said it was wasting money, and our problems would still be here when we got back. I rang the Council for help and asked to speak to the emergency housing department. It was an embarrassing phone call. They were unsympathetic and would not help as I owned my own property and was fully employed. Neil suggested renting the house out. I knew it would not be fair on the family moving in. What if anything happened to them? What if the house went on fire? I could not take that chance. I thought about renting a caravan in a nearby caravan park. They were a lot cheaper than houses, but it was winter and freezing outside.

  Neil looked over my shoulder as I clicked on pictures of a caravan park online. ‘C’mon, there must be another way. This thing can’t last forever, maybe we should try moving back home again.’

  My eyes widened at the suggestion, and I spoke my words with steely determination. ‘Neil. I am never moving into that house again.’ Neil opened his mouth to persuade me otherwise, and I silenced him with a filthy look. ‘I said never. I don’t even know how you can suggest it.’

  Neil shrugged. ‘Well in that case, we need to see the priest again.’

  I was fed up chasing the Catholic Church. Months passed since our last visit and we heard nothing back. Neil still held out hope, and persuaded me to visit Father Luke.

  It was a bitter cold windswept day when Father Luke welcomed us into his chambers. He spoke in a calm reassuring voice, giving us communion and anointing us with holy oils. He disclosed the ritual was reserved for special cases. Neil asked about the exorcism, and Father Luke replied it would take time, but did not go into any details. He also recommended getting in touch with our local parish priest, as he did not want to step on anyone’s toes.

  We walked out of the church, and Neil linked his arm through mine. ‘Do you think he is taking us seriously?’ he said.

  I was not feeling reassured by our visit. ‘He’s just not listening. Why is it so hard to get them to come to our house? Why won’t they help us?’ I swallowed back my frustration as the wind whipped my face.

  Another week passed, and we still had not heard anything from the church. I tried telephoning Father Luke, but there was no answer. I did not want to wait any longer and considered his suggestion of contacting our local priest. Walking into the spare bedroom, I dialled the number, closing the door behind me for privacy. I hated making these calls, and hoped the priest would be sympathetic. The phone answered on the third ring and a man’s voice introduced himself as the local parish priest.

  I gave my name and told him I had been in touch with the priest from another town. I explained we had been having some problems in our house.

  ‘What sort of problems?’ His voice was flat and lacking in interest.

  ‘Well, we seem to be haunted. We’ve had things move in the house and crockery smashed. I was wondering if you could come down and help?’ I gave him a watered down version in case he did not believe me.

  ‘What do you want me to do about it?’ he said gruffly.

  I was starting to feel uncomfortable and stuttered my way through the rest of the explanation. ‘We need help, our family are terrified… we’ve had to move out of our home.’

  I paused. No response. ‘Have you ever heard of anything like this in the area?’

  ‘Well, you hear of these things. Do you attend this church?’

  I bit my lip as my grip on the phone handset tightened. I‘m looking for help, what does it matter what church I go to? ‘No… I’ve been attending the Clacton church, but I’ve been told to come to you as you are in m
y parish.’

  The priest answered in a short clipped tone. ‘Well in that case I cannot help you. You will have to go back to where you attend church and ask them.’

  I could not believe my ears. He’s saying that he cannot help because I don’t attend his sermons. My heart sank as I pleaded. ‘But I’ve tried, he told me to come to you. I’ve already tried ringing him today and he’s not there.’

  The priest was impatient and uncaring. ‘Don’t you know the Pope is in town? Of course he is not there. You’ll have to try when he comes back. I can’t help you.’

  Can’t or won’t. There was no point in continuing the conversation. ‘OK’ I answered in a curt tone, ‘if you cannot help us then that is fine. Goodbye.’

  He seemed to realise just how unsympathetic he had sounded as he replied, ‘OK then, goodbye, and… Err… God bless.’

  The priest’s hypocrisy stung like a slap in the face as I hung up the phone. I was sickened by his response. God bless? What’s the point of saying God bless when he’s basically given me the two fingers? I walked out to the living room and explained to Neil.

  ‘Bloody hypocrite.’ Neil paced the room, his face flushed red. ‘Call himself a man of God? I should give him a piece of my mind!’ Neil threw up his hands in disgust and looked for the phone.

  ‘No Neil, leave it,’ I said. ‘He’s probably just scared.’

  ‘Scared? Caroline it’s his job to help us.’

  ‘Not if we don’t attend his sermons,’ I said signalling for Neil to sit down. The last thing I needed was a showdown between Neil and the unwilling priest.

  We returned to the Free Church the next day. They were shocked to hear how things had escalated, and arranged for someone to call to see us the following week. I was impressed by the speed of their assistance. Their second visit consisted of the older minister, Peter, accompanied by a man who they described as a healer with experience in the supernatural. He spent an hour with us, praying in each room and revoking any permission for the entity to be there.

  Prior to leaving, the priest spotted my book collection. He fingered his way through the titles, frowning. ‘This is not good, you really shouldn’t have these in the house.’

  I picked up the book he was looking at. They were not books on witchcrafts or demons, but rather yoga and meditation. ‘Sorry, I don’t understand. These are books on health and well-being.’

  ‘Yes, but yoga is a form of meditation and we do not recommend this at all.’ His frown deepened even further when he came across the biographies, some of them penned by spiritualists and mediums.

  ‘Oh. I take it these are bad too?’

  ‘Oh most definitely. In fact, if you give me a bin bag I can rid you of these right now.’ I went downstairs and took a black bin bag from the kitchen, ripping it off the roll. It did not make sense. Surely prayer is a form of meditation?

  I brought the bag upstairs, and the priest piled fifteen of my books inside for destruction. It seemed a bit extreme, but I was happy to go along with it, if it would help.

  Before he left, he imparted some advice.

  ‘Pray regularly, focus on a positive life, and if certain conditions make it worse, avoid them at all cost.’

  ‘What did you make of that?’ Neil asked.

  ‘I’m a bit sorry my books are gone, but I guess it can’t do any harm. One thing made sense though, when he talked about avoiding certain conditions that make it worse,’ I said. I took a deep breath, thinking the best solutions are the most obvious ones. ‘I think you need to stop seeing Lee.’

  Neil did not seem surprised by my suggestion. ‘It doesn’t seem fair. It’s not his fault after all.’

  ‘Why don’t you meet him around his place instead?’

  ‘Lee doesn’t want me around there in case things start up.’

  ‘Well there you go then,’ I said. ‘Lee will understand why he can’t come to ours. Is there anywhere else you can catch up?’

  ‘I suppose we could meet up in the pub,’ Neil said, brightening. He telephoned Lee to explain. He made it clear that we did not blame him, but somehow the entity was more powerful when he was around. I wondered if Lee was a host, or if their combined energy gave it more life. We just did not know. Meeting in the pub seemed like a fair compromise and we hoped the last paranormal event was a dying swan song.

  Things improved immeasurably after the priest’s attendance. It was a tough decision asking them to visit again, given the reaction of the entity the first time around. Apart from some minor events, the activity had all but stopped.

  ###

  The time of year I was dreading the most came around – Halloween. If there was one holiday that I wished would disappear, this was it. But there was no getting away from it. Cardboard ghouls hung from the ceiling of my local supermarket while chocolate eyeballs stared at me as I queued to pay for my food. Despite everything, the children wanted to participate. David was amazed by it all. Knocking on doors and being given sweets was his idea of heaven. I smiled at the irony of it as I shadowed my two little ghouls singing ‘trick or treat’ at each door.

  Neil was feeling a lot stronger, even managing to joke about it, ‘Can you imagine if the trick or treaters came in and it all started up here? They would be thinking… Wow, amazing effects!’

  ‘No, more like what a bunch of weirdoes, get me out of here!’ I mused, happy to see Neil with a twinkle in his eye.

  I did what I vowed never to do and moved back home. The children missed their rooms and were very restricted in the flat in Clacton. I felt like a coward. Everybody else seemed happy to move back except me. Neil was adamant it was the right thing to do. He had been through the worst of the attacks and reasoned that if he felt it was right then I should support him. A few heated discussions later, I agreed to give it a trial run.

  The sun was shining the day we crept back into our house, belongings in hand. It seems empty without the dogs, I reflected with a sense of loss. Empty and hollow. I rubbed my arms. The house was warm, but I felt chilled to my bones. The children raced upstairs, arguing who was going to use the computer first. I busied myself dragging out their mattresses into my room, my thoughts racing forward to the dreaded night ahead. The day passed without event, and that night the children climbed between the freshly washed sheets, happy to be home.

  Neil turned to face me, and his yawn broke into a gentle smile. ‘Try not to worry love, get some sleep.’

  ‘I’ll try. Goodnight,’ I said, throwing one last glance over the children. I closed my eyes and tried to rest. Bad memories crept into my thoughts like an arm of ants, digging and tunnelling new nightmares. I fell into a restless sleep, waking every hour as my mind took on sentry duty.

  Two weeks passed, and we began to relax. The house began to feel like home again, and the atmosphere lightened. Our children moved back into their own rooms. David was the exception; he had become used to sleeping in our bed and he liked it. Moving him back to his own room was a bit trickier. That night carrying my slumbering son into his own bed, I reflected how grateful I was that they got through the experience unharmed. I did not like to question why the children were never directly involved as it felt like tempting fate.

  Life carried on without disruption, and we did not discuss past events. I made a conscious effort to pack away the bad memories into a little box in my head marked ‘Do Not Open.’ By the end of September the activity completely stopped. I missed my dogs and regretted parting with them. I spoke to the new owners and managed to get Lara back. She had not settled in at all and was still pining for us.

  The day we brought her home was a happy one. As I walked into the house with Lara, her tail wagging furiously, it felt we were turning a new page. In retrospect I was more than correct. Things were to take an amazing twist.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Stranger & Stranger

  Neil developed a new understanding of the Paranormal. Rather than shying away from what happened, he devoted his time studying theories for explan
ations. A creeping sensation at the back of his mind told him it was not over. It lessened the shock when he received a call from his brother Mark one afternoon. ‘Everything alright?’ Neil asked.

  ‘I don’t know if I should tell you or not,’ Mark replied.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s just that I got a weird message on my mobile phone from an unknown caller.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘It was hard to tell at first, the background noises were very strange. Then halfway through the message I heard a voice. It said, “I’m coming back – I’m fucking coming back.” Then it hung up.’

  ‘If he comes back I’m ready. He’s not going to scare me this time.’ Neil ended the conversation, warning Mark to keep the details of the call to himself. He did not want to worry anyone unnecessarily. The priests withdrew any consent for the entity to make itself known in the house. Time would tell if it worked.

  ###

  Neil often met Chris and Lee in a local pub, ‘The Ship’. He enjoyed the quietness; the cosy pub was steeped in history, and had low-beamed ceilings and open fire. Fed up calling the entity ‘it,’ Neil and his friends jokingly came up with the name ‘Phil’ after a popular soap character on television known for making loud exhaling noises. Neil felt a sense of empowerment by giving the entity a harmless sounding name, and that night ‘Phil’ was the topic of conversation. Neil leaned against the bar sipping his diet coke while reflecting back to the days before everything occurred.

  The men were in deep conversation when they heard a ping as something small hit the thinly carpeted floor and rested at their feet.

  ‘What was that?’ Lee said, uncurling his legs from the bar stool and looking around.

  Neil bent down, picked up a five pence piece, and laid it flat on the bar. ‘Must be this, it wasn’t there before.’ He tried not to jump to conclusions. The thought of the entity being in the pub seemed a bit silly. ‘Anyone coming outside for a cigarette?’ he said.