Paranormal Intruder Read online

  Back in the safety of the living room, I caught my breath. ‘God, what was that?’

  Valerie was already heading back into the kitchen to find out. ‘It’s a tub of salt,’ she said, matter of factly.

  Ashamed for being so cowardly, I steeled myself to go back inside. This screaming and running away business is getting embarrassing. I returned to the kitchen and to see the large red tub of salt bleeding its contents on the floor.

  Neil pointed upwards at the open cupboard door. ‘It must have come out of here.’

  Picking the red plastic salt tub up, I felt its weight while pondering the strength needed to disturb such a heavy item. ‘We can’t sleep here tonight, not with the children around.’ I returned the salt to the cupboard and firmly closed the door. How would I explain these events to the children when I did not understand them myself?

  Valerie was quick to reply. ‘Don’t worry; you’re staying at our place tonight.’

  I responded with a grateful smile and searched the kitchen drawers. There was never a pen when you needed one. ‘I think we should write down what’s happening, so we don’t forget.’ Stafford began to roll himself a cigarette. ‘What do you know about the history of the house?’

  ‘There is no history,’ Neil said. ‘We were the first ones to buy it. That’s what I don’t understand.’

  Stafford could not offer any answer and simply shrugged. ‘Whatever it is, it’s pretty amazing.’ Neil pulled a bent up cigarette from his pocket and joined Lee and Stafford smoking at the open back door. He shifted from foot to foot as if ready to run at a moment’s notice. Neil was only a few inches taller than me, but years of swimming training afforded him a broad, muscular frame. He was not the nervous type. Just what happened this morning? A shiver ran through me. We slowly filtered back out into the living room. My mind worked overtime as a rational explanation eluded me. I did not suspect anyone of foul play, but I needed to be very clear there was no human intervention. I conducted a mental scan of the room and pulled the door closed. Further activity ensued, and I gave in to the conclusion that our house was well and truly haunted by a being of some sort. A very pissed off one at that. It wrecked my kitchen, throwing cup by cup, and when it ran out of crockery, it moved on to my saucepans. The novelty of the occurrences developed into a sick nervousness in the pit of my stomach. An almighty smashing noise filled the air as I entered the kitchen to investigate the latest occurrence. Shards of glass shattered on the kitchen floor and I jumped back to avoid them.

  Neil picked up what was left of the saucepan lid. All that remained was the metal trimming which had once encircled it. I cautiously walked over and examined it.

  ‘This is really bad Neil. I’ve dropped this saucepan lid in the past and it’s never smashed like this. We need help.’ Closing my eyes, I rubbed the middle of my forehead, wishing some answers would appear.

  Valerie’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts, ‘Who are you going to call?’

  I refrained from answering ‘Ghostbusters’. Now was not the time for humour, and I was pretty shaken up by the day’s events. Perhaps the Internet would be of use. ‘I’m going to get my laptop and see if I can find help.’ Biting my lip, I hesitated. ‘Will someone come with me please?’

  Neil slouched in resignation, rubbing the back of his shaven head. ‘Yeah, let’s all sit down. I’m tired.’

  I scratched the waistband of my itchy black trousers. It was usually a relief to change out of my uniform, but being all alone in my bedroom did not appeal to me. I also needed to use the toilet, but wild horses would not drag me into the solitary confinement of our bathroom.

  Back in the living room with my laptop powered up, I wasn’t sure where to begin. My hands shook with adrenalin as I typed, help, haunted house and found theme parks, news stories and pay as you go psychic readings. I tried again with help, ghost, but nothing of use was returned to me. Telephoning the local Spiritualist Church, my frustration mounted with every unanswered ring. I hung up the phone and quickly tapped in a request for local mediums and paranormal investigators on my laptop. After several pages of searching, I found a phone number and dialled it, praying they would offer help. A female voice answered and I blurted out our problems. ‘Um hello, I’m wondering if you can help me. I think our house is haunted. Things are being thrown and we need help. I’m a genuine person, this isn’t a prank.’

  The woman on the other end paused for breath and replied ‘Sorry? This is a leisure centre.’

  Heat rose from my collar as my face flushed in embarrassment. ‘Oh sorry,’ I garbled, and hung up. Bloody hell, she must have thought I was crazy. How the hell did I get through to a leisure centre? Looking down at my shaking hands, I realised I had dialled the wrong number. I picked up the phone to try again, but static blared down the line. I turned to Stafford. ‘The bloody phone isn’t working. I’ll put it on speaker, listen to this.’

  Stafford sat in the chair rolling another cigarette. I pressed the speaker button and static noise reverberated throughout the room. ‘Hmm, that’s strange. Keep trying,’ he said.

  I made several more attempts, but all I got was static. I threw the phone down in exasperation and rested my head in my hands. I was trapped in the worst kind of nightmare.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Help, Please

  I pulled my blonde strands of hair loose from the constraints of the ponytail, shaking it free with my fingers. One of my best qualities was being reliable during emergencies. For someone who usually had all the answers, I was astounded by my inability to cope. I looked at Stafford sitting across from me. Ten years my senior, he had a knack of being able to connect with people of all ages. With his easy-going nature and positive attitude, it was easy to like him. ‘Normally I would offer you a cup of tea, but… we seem to be out of cups,’ I joked.

  Stafford grinned in response. ‘Don’t worry, I think I can manage without one.’

  Lee yelped from upstairs and came galloping down with Neil close behind him. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ he said, ‘I was on the landing when a plate flew out of *Sarah’s room and nearly hit me on the head.’

  Sarah was my fifteen-year-old daughter, with a typical teenager’s bedroom to match. I recalled telling her on many occasions that if she did not pick up her dirty clothes, they would walk to the wash basket by themselves. I had not counted on dinner plates taking on a life of their own as well.

  Neil fiddled in his jeans pocket for his lighter. I wished he would not smoke so much, but I made an allowance in the hope it might calm his nerves. ‘I was in Joe’s room when I heard it hit the ground. It’s still on the landing upstairs.’

  The thought of anything untoward being in my daughter’s room made my skin creep. I climbed the stairs cautiously, my hand sliding up the banisters for support. Pausing halfway up, I spotted the plate on the top landing, several inches away from the step. A cold sensation overcame me and I shuddered. Promptly, I turned and walked back downstairs, rubbing my arms to warm them. ‘I'm not going up there by myself,’ I mumbled while walking into the living room. Neil was not listening; he was on the phone to his brother Mark, providing him with updates. I gathered from their conversation that Mark was leaving from his home in London to see what was going on. I was not surprised. As identical twins, Neil and Mark had a close bond. Come hell or high water, nothing would stop Mark from being there for his twin.

  A soft thudding noise came from the hall and Neil walked out to investigate. ‘Caroline, did you move the picture?’

  ‘Oh, what now?’ I groaned, following him into the hall. Our large family pictures had been disturbed. One of them now lay on the ground, placed on its side against the wall. I looked closely at where the picture had previously been hanging. ‘I haven’t touched it… but look at the hook.’ I pointed at the mangled piece of metal on the wall. Not only was it mangled out of shape, it was upside down too. The picture was heavy and if it had just been removed from the wall it would surely have fallen and smashed on the
floor. Somehow, the picture had been gently placed on its side. But why was the hook bent out of shape?

  Neil stared at the hook. ‘I wonder if the neighbours have experienced anything similar.’

  ‘Who knows,’ I replied. ‘It’s not something you can drop into general conversation is it?’ We lived in a small close and kept to ourselves. Although I was curious, I did not feel the need to carry out a neighbourhood survey on ghostly occurrences. We turned to go back into the living room, and heard a soft tap as something lightly hit the ground.

  Neil froze. ‘Did you hear that? It’s David’s shoe. I’m sure it was in the hall a second ago.’ He pointed through the open kitchen door at the shoe, which was now on its side in the middle of the floor.

  ‘Check the camera Neil, see if you’ve captured anything,’ I said.

  Neil turned on the camera and it offered up the last stored photos. ‘You’re right. The shoes had both been in the hall just seconds earlier. One of them must have been thrown from the hall through the open kitchen door.’ As I walked away, Neil whispered in disbelief, ‘I’ve just seen David's shoe flip upright.’ Sure enough, it had. Neil was about ten feet away from the other shoe, which was now upright on the kitchen floor. He took another photo and marvelled that he had seen it move with his own eyes.

  The dogs watched me through the stair gate in their doorway, their ears pricked. What must they make of all this commotion? I opened the garage door and watched as they padded out into the garden, sniffing the air. I wondered if I was frightened unnecessarily. Maybe we just needed to get a medium to visit and he could tell it to ‘go to the light’. At least, that’s what happened on the TV. But why start now? Was it something we did? I shook my head. The very thought of a ghost in our home seemed ridiculous. Yet I had seen and heard the chaos and could not come up with a rational explanation.

  The barking dogs signalled my son *Joe’s return from college. We explained the occurrences as best we could to him. At seventeen, he was mature enough to handle the truth, but I had no intention of telling our other three children, and warned him to keep it to himself. Joe handled the news with his usual grace and accepted it without question.

  The barrage of activity was relentless. Neil’s coat, which had earlier been hanging in the hall, was found spread out on the floor. As we tried to decipher the meaning behind the coat being moved, we discovered something else. The front door keys had been taken out of the door and placed on a bicycle in the hall. I rubbed my eyes. It had been a long day and I was getting tired.

  Neil and Lee searched for cups in the kitchen to make coffee with while I sat with Stafford, Joe and Valerie in the lounge. Searching for help on my laptop, I e-mailed some mediums, giving them an outline of the day’s events. I dialled out on the house phone only to hear static hiss down the receiver. I took out my mobile and fiddled with the touch screen. ‘I’m all fingers and thumbs, I can’t get it to work,’ I groaned. I did not like the touch screen at the best of times, but today my fingers felt like bananas. ‘I would feel so much better if I knew help was coming.’ An eerie thump, thump noise emanated from the hall. Stafford and I both looked at each other, and then got up to investigate. We could not believe our eyes.

  ‘Will you look at that?’ Stafford said. The plate, which had been on the top landing, was now coming quickly down the stairs all by itself; thump… thump… thump as it struck each step. It got to the bottom step and landed on the ground without breaking.

  I froze as I stared at the plate near my feet. ‘Bloody hell, nobody is going to believe me at work tomorrow.’

  Stafford picked up the plate and examined it, turning it over in his hand. ‘Mad isn’t it? But don’t worry, I’ll tell anyone that asks what I’ve seen tonight.’

  I was struck by a thought. I wonder if I can catch anything on tape? I took the camcorder out of the cupboard. Sitting down, I fiddled with the switches. I turned the camcorder on. It promptly turned itself off again. I frowned. I recently filmed the children and knew the battery was charged. I tried again and it switched off. ‘What’s going on with this camera?’ I huffed. The warning message ‘lens cap on’ flickered on the display. The lens cap was hanging down by the side. After a few frustrating minutes, the camcorder powered into life. I pressed the record button. We sat in silence, waiting for something to happen. After twenty minutes I turned the camcorder off. ‘Hmm, looks like it has stopped.’

  Stafford got up and stretched. ‘Well I’ve been here hours now. Better get home or the missus will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  Neil held his hand out, ‘Thanks for coming, we really appreciate it.’

  Stafford firmly shook Neil’s hand. ‘No mate, I’m privileged. I’ve seen some things in my time, but nothing like that. That’s a story for the grandkids one day.’ Neil waved Stafford off as he walked down the drive.

  I began to climb our flight of stairs when a loud thumping noise stopped me dead in my tracks. Bang. A door slammed loudly. ‘What the hell is that?’ I shouted, back tracking. Apart from the bathrooms, the upstairs was carpeted and the doors did not close by themselves. There were no open windows or breezes that would have caused it to happen, and the dogs were downstairs. I clenched my hands into fists. It was getting dark and I needed to pack an overnight bag for the children. I looked up the stairs at the dark shadows cast by the diminished light. Something menacing was waiting for me. My stomach clenched at the thought of going up there alone.

  Neil watched me hesitate and climbed the stairs to accompany me. Joe followed us up to the room that he shared with David to pack some games and clothes.

  My mind racing, I entered my bedroom and hastily shoved some clothes into a holdall. I walked out to the airing cupboard on the landing to get some clean towels. I was used to having to pull the door open by force over the thick cream carpet. I dragged the door open and took what was necessary. Balancing the towels and a bag, I grabbed the handle to close it. Bang. The door slammed closed with considerable force, yanking my arm forward. I took a step backwards, astonished. Did something just pull the door closed from the inside? My hand hovered over the handle to try it again. Inhaling deeply, I opened and closed the door. It slowly dragged over the carpet. I gathered the rest of our things with a sense of urgency, trying to suppress the panic in my voice, ‘Neil, Joe, I’m ready to go. I’ll meet you both downstairs.’

  Joe joined me in the hall, his face ashen. ‘What’s wrong?’ I said, impatient and ready to leave.

  He spoke slowly, staring at the ground. ‘I was walking down the stairs and I felt someone shove me from behind. I had to grab the banisters to stop myself from falling down.’

  I gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘It’s okay, we’re leaving now,’ I said, wanting to get him out to the car as quickly as possible. It was dark outside and our house grew more ominous by the minute. Joe got in the car, and Neil called me aside.

  ‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of Joe, but after he left I heard a noise in his bedroom. I looked inside and saw a toy soldier rolling across the floor by itself.’

  ‘Right that’s it, let’s get the hell out of here,’ I said, not wanting to hear any more. We settled the dogs and drove five miles to Neil’s parents’ flat, which was situated on the seafront in Clacton-on-Sea. I felt a pang of regret at leaving the dogs behind, but we had no choice. My in-laws flat had a strict ‘no pets’ policy. The dogs had a warm haven in our garage, which was converted into a comfortable living space for them. It was fine for the short term and Neil promised to check on them later.

  We arrived in Clacton and pulled into a vacant space outside his parents’ luxury flats. The impressive stone building had been built in Victorian times and kept many of its original period features. I pressed the buzzer, waiting to be allowed in. The door clicked its release and we walked into the large communal hall, our footsteps echoing on the faded red tiles. A thick dark wooden staircase spiralled up four floors. It had an ethereal quality and my voice echoed upwards as I spoke
. ‘If this building was haunted I would understand,’ I said, imagining the ghosts of Victorian ladies floating gracefully down the stairs in their finery.

  ‘I know,’ Neil said, as he pressed the button on the lift. ‘I don’t know why it’s picked our house all of a sudden.’

  ‘Mummy! ‘David shouted, running towards me as I reached the front door, his arms open wide to greet me. I kneeled and hugged him tightly, kissing his floppy blonde hair. ‘We’re staying here tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Yes I know, good isn’t it?’

  ‘Did you buy me anything?’ he asked, his dimples melting my heart.

  ‘Sorry sweetheart, I’ve been at work all day. Maybe next time.’

  He frowned. ‘Will you read me a story then?’

  ‘Of course, let’s get you ready for bed.’ Taking him by the hand, we walked into the small spare bedroom. *Alice, our eight year old, followed us inside. I patted the top of her head. She was growing so fast and was full of chatter and questions. Sarah, my fifteen-year-old daughter, climbed into her navy blue sleeping bag on the ground. The excitement of the day sent David into a fitful sleep. I picked up the children’s discarded clothes from the floor and began folding them. Alice and Sarah sat up, unhappy that they were being kept in the dark about the day’s events.

  ‘What is it, Mum? We know something is going on.’ Sarah’s wavy dark hair and pale skin played a perfect backdrop to her brooding scowl.

  I squeezed their clothes into an already packed drawer. They were not going to let this drop easily. ‘OK, something has happened in the house. We don’t want to take any chances so we’re going to stay here until we can find out what it is.’