Haunted Dare

Copyright oggbashan October 2022

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

(Author's Note: I try to avoid typos, but my eyesight is compromised by cancer. I use two spellcheckers and print out in large typeface before submitting but I cannot guarantee that everything is typo-free -- because I can't see them. That is particularly true of the sub-title because I am typing blindly into a box I can't really see because it is so small.)

This is a ghost story, but Romance, not Erotic Horror.

+++

Albert Cobb's cottage is a building just beyond the edge of the village. It had been built as a farmworker's cottage, but Albert bought it in 1936.

Now it is derelict and reputed to be haunted. Albert had experienced a bad WW2. He was captured by the Japanese when Singapore surrendered and held at the notorious Changi Jail. He had been an officer. He was severely beaten around the head with a club for protesting about the treatment of an ordinary soldier and suffered some brain damage. He was never the same man after the war but just seen as slightly odd.

He had married Edith, the widow of a friend, who had died as a tank commander in the early failed attempts to capture Caen. Albert's wife had died in an air raid while working at an RAF station. Albert didn't know that his wife had died until he returned to the UK in 1946.

Albert had a souvenir from Changi. He had taken the Commandant's pair of swords, a framed certificate in Japanese about the sword maker and the swords' names and history, and the stand, when the camp was liberated. Unlike ordinary Japanese officer's swords, they were antique and made by a master swordsmith.

Albert had felt some sympathy for the Commandant. He had been injured and had a useless right arm. He had tried to make the prisoners of war be treated better but had been overruled by his superiors and undermined by the junior officers and guards who had been brutal.

He had committed suicide when he got the news that Japan had surrendered. Left-handed, he had shot himself in the head. He couldn't have committed the usual samurai hara-kiri because of his useless right arm.

But the swords reminded Albert of his experiences in Changi and gave him nightmares. After a couple of years, he put them away in a cupboard and there they stayed until 1960. That year his wife had been trying to persuade him to give the swords back to the dead Commandant's family, and Albert had been seriously considering doing that. But they were valuable.

One night Albert and his wife were killed. At first it was thought that Albert had killed his wife with the long sword and then decapitated her, before committing suicide by plunging the short sword into his heart. He was found lying on the bed next to Edith.

But the Police investigation and autopsy soon proved that the idea was wrong. Albert had a new injury to his head and there were bloodstains in the hall and up the stairs. He would have been made unconscious, if not dead, by that blow. Edith had been sleeping when the sword pierced her heart. Albert was placed next to her and also killed, if he wasn't already dead.

The Police investigation went nowhere. There were no signs of a forced entry, and nothing had been stolen. The only valuable possessions they had had were the two swords. No one in the village knew of anyone with a grudge against Albert or Edith. They had been a quiet couple who kept mainly to themselves, and although Albert was odd, both of them were liked.

They had no children but had made wills leaving the house contents to Edith's sister Agnes, and the rest of what they owned to two nephews who lived in Australia and had been in Australia at the time of the murders. Apart from the cottage they left a few hundreds of pounds each -- not enough to make murder profitable. The nephews tried to sell the cottage but as a murder scene no one wanted it and it just gradually went into dereliction, sometimes played in by local children, but never after dark as it was supposed to be haunted by Albert and Edith wanting justice.

+++

My girlfriend, Rosalind, thinks I am too staid and boring. According to her I have never done anything, except qualify as an accountant working for our District Council. While she appreciated that I was kind and gentle with her, unlike her two previous boyfriends who had used and abused her, she wanted me to show more signs of being willing to be adventurous.

One evening we were sitting in a secluded alcove in the village's pub restaurant over coffee. Both of us have reasonable incomes by local standards. Rosalind is a deputy manager at a supermarket. We were feeling depressed. The council had just rejected another planning application for an estate of houses on the edge of the village. It would have included a housing association's part rent; part buy scheme which we might have been able to afford unlike other new houses far beyond our resources.

"Gareth? I wish you would do something different. You are just boring. We can't buy a house, and until we can get somewhere, even to rent, we can't get married, and do I even want to marry a boring accountant?"

"What do you want me to do to prove I'm not boring? Join the French Foreign Legion?"

I was being sarcastic.

"I have an idea, Gareth. It's nearly Halloween. You could spend that night in Albert Cobb's cottage. That will prove you are adventurous."

"If I do, what then?"

"1. I will finally accept your repeated proposals, and 2, you will get a night in bed with me."

"OK, Rosalind. I accept the challenge. No. 1 is great. No.2 is fantastic. I'd do anything for that."

"I thought it would be an incentive. But there's no lighting or electricity in the cottage. There never was. When Albert and Edith lived there, they had candles and paraffin lamps -- long gone. The only water was from the well, so there's no facilities."

"And no glass in the windows and holes in the roof. But I have my camping equipment. I'll manage."

+++

It was just after dusk on Halloween. I had installed myself in what had been the front parlour, although there was no sign of the formal room it had been. All of the furniture had been removed in the months after the murders I assume to ready the house for sale. I had an air mattress, my heavyweight sleeping bag, a two-burner gas stove and I had just made myself some hot chocolate. The wind was howling outside but there was no rain yet. Even if it did rain, I was well away from the windows and the wind was blowing at the back of the house. I settled down to sleep.

About three am I was woken by someone calling my name. I thought it might be Rosalind playing tricks on me. It sounded like Rosalind.

"Gareth? Gareth?"

"What do you want, Rosalind?" I asked.

"I'm not Rosalind, I'm Edith."

I still thought it was Rosalind.

"Stop mucking about Rosalind. You sound like Rosalind, not Edith."

"I AM Edith. I might sound like Rosalind because we are relations, but I'm not her. She is my great-niece."

I still thought it was Rosalind, but I'd play along.

"OK. You are Edith. If so, what do you want?"

"Justice on our murderer but neither Albert nor I know who it was. Albert was hit from behind, and I was asleep when I was killed. We didn't see anyone. After all these years whoever killed us might be dead as well, or if not is never likely to be found now."

"So want do you expect me to do, Edith?"

"Perhaps persuade the Police to reopen the case? They closed it in 1965. We don't have much hope now. But there is something important for you and Rosalind."

I still thought it was Rosalind speaking to me. What Edith said next made me change my mind.

"The previous owner when Albert bought the cottage in 1936 had been an elderly, unmarried farmer's son. He was the last of his family. His great grandfather had been a smuggler but never caught. He was known to have made a lot of money, but it was never found. Albert found it in 1936 and told me about it in 1955. We didn't need it. We owned the house outright and were happy just living a quiet life. We left the money where it was. Albert had bought the house furnished with all contents, so the money was legally ours."

"Whose is it now?"

"We had left the house contents to my sister Agnes, Rosalind's grandmother, who had been my only bridesmaid when I married Albert. Everything else went to the Australian nephews. Agnes was asked to empty the house so it could be sold. She did, even if she had to put some items into an auction. Agnes, when she died, left everything to Rosalind, not a lot except some very old furniture still in store. But by our wills Agnes got ALL contents and she willed everything she had to Rosalind. She hadn't left much. To avoid inheritance tax, she had given most of it to Rosalind's parents years before she died. So the money is Rosalind's. Her solicitors and ours were Brasher and Jones in the town. They have both wills."

By now I was actually convinced I was talking to Edith's ghost, not Rosalind playing a trick on me. I was surprisingly unfazed by talking to a ghost that sounded just like Rosalind. When alive, Edith had been considered a 'nice' person and pleasant. Apparently, her ghost still was.

"Where's Albert?" I asked.

"Beside me," Edith replied. "He found talking difficult when he was alive, and it is still a struggle. I used to do the talking for him."

"Hello, Gareth," a male voice said. I could tell it was an effort.

"What do you two want from me?" I asked, again.

Albert answered slowly.

"We loved this house and enjoyed living here. We are sad to see it in such a state..."

"We would like it to be a family house again," Edith added, "With us as friendly, not disruptive tenants. With the money Rosalind would inherit, you two could buy it and get it repaired and modernised. We were exploring the possibility of converting the third smaller bedroom into a bathroom instead of bathing in a tin bath and going to the outside toilet -- cold in winter and full of flies in summer. Now the village has mains water, mains sewers and gas. This house could be connected to all those."

"But unless we know where the money is, that won't happen, Edith."

"Silly Edith," Albert croaked. "Of course, we need to tell him. You're in the right room, Gareth. See the fireplace?"

"Yes."

"When I bought the house there was a rusty and cracked Victorian cast iron fireplace. One of the first things I did was to rip it out and install a new 1930s fireplace, which although cracked and damaged now, is still there. I did a good job. It was far more efficient and heated this room beautifully."

I looked at the fireplace. Someone had tried to remove some of the tiles. They were cracked, broken, with bits missing. It looked nothing like the fireplace Albert had been proud of.

"But when I took the old grate out, there was a small stone slab in front of it. It wasn't large enough for my new fireplace and badly cracked. I had to remove it before putting down some concrete to make a larger surround. The money was under the broken slab in an iron cauldron. It still is but buried under my concrete."

It had been an obvious effort for Albert to say so much. Edith took over.

"There are some things you and Rosalind will have to do before trying to get at the money. You will have to go to the solicitors and make sure that anything still in the house belongs to Rosalind. You can't tell them that ghosts told you. You will have to pretend that Rosalind found some hints in old papers we left. They don't exist. After Albert told me about the money, we agreed never to mention it again to anyone or even talk about among ourselves. Nobody knew. It can't have been a motive for our murders."

"Apart from the solicitors I might have trouble explaining to Rosalind," I said. "She won't believe I spent the night talking to the ghosts of Edith and Albert."

"That is easily remedied. Bring Rosalind here tomorrow night and we, or probably I, because Albert has worn his voice out, will tell her what we have told you."

"Thank you. But why give Rosalind the money?"

"You two are in love. So were Albert and I. I might have had to be his carer some of the time, but I loved Albert even before the war when he was just a married friend. We were very happy in the house, and it saddens us to see it in such a state. It deserves better. You two need a house in the village and can't afford any. Although the money might be enough to buy a new house -- we don't know -- we never counted it and have no idea what it might be worth now, we want you to repair and renovate THIS house and live in it. Agreed?"

"For me? Yes. But I'd have to consult Rosalind. After all, it is perhaps going to be her money, not mine."

"Bring her tomorrow night, Gareth. Until then? We'll leave you in peace for the rest of the night and you will have fulfilled Rosalind's challenge."

I slept well for the rest of the night. I woke up shortly before dawn and made myself a cooked breakfast. After dawn, the wind had dropped, and it was a bright sunny day. I looked carefully at the fireplace. I'd need tools, a spade, hammer and cold chisels to remove Albert's fireplace. When new it would have been a great centrepiece for the room. No wonder Albert had been proud of it.

+++

I had to go to work. I went home, showered and changed into my formal, boring accountant's suit. I would see Rosalind tonight.

She rang me at lunchtime.

"Well, Gareth, did you do it? Did you meet any ghosts?"

"I'll tell you about it this evening, Rosalind, and I'll propose again. The usual restaurant? Half past seven?"

"Yes, you tease. You really did it?"

"Yes, Rosalind. I spent Halloween night in Albert Cobb's cottage. That's why I'll propose. See you."

I wasn't going to try to explain about Edith and Albert and the money over the phone. But I was enjoying leaving Rosalind hanging...

+++

In the restaurant we had starters which arrived quickly because it was a quiet evening. When we had ordered the main course, I sat back in my chair and smiled at Rosalind.

"Come on, Gareth. Tell me. What happened? Did you meet any ghosts?"

"Meet? Not really. I only spoke to them."

"Spoke to them? You're having me on."

"No, I'm not. and to prove it, they have asked me to take YOU to the cottage tonight so they can speak to you. Edith wants to talk to her great-niece, and she has something to tell you."

"Great-niece? Yes, I suppose I am. I hadn't really thought about it. They died so long ago."

"Your grandmother, Agnes, was Edith's sister. Albert and Edith left the contents of the cottage to Agnes, and Agnes left everything to you."

"That's right, but how did you know? I haven't said anything about Agnes to you. She died over a decade ago. Apart from about one hundred pounds, everything else was furniture. That is all in a dry barn waiting for us to get somewhere to live."

"I know because Edith told me..."

"I'm beginning to believe that you actually did speak to Edith last night, Gareth."

"And that's why I'll propose but after I've proved it later. We can go to the cottage after the meal and Edith can speak to you. When she first spoke, I thought it was you, winding me up. You sound very similar."

Just then the main course arrived. We talked about other things, mainly moaning about the council's planning refusal.

We didn't have dessert. Rosalind was impatient to get to the cottage.

I took my torch and lantern and went into the empty front parlour. I had brought some folding camping chairs. We sat down and I said:

"Edith? Are you there?"

Rosalind's hand grabbed mine as Edith said:

"Hello, Gareth and Rosalind. I am pleased that you have come, Rosalind, great-niece."

Edith explained to Rosalind what they had told me last night. She finished by saying that Albert had remembered something he had forgotten last night.

"Gareth, Rosalind? I have remembered something I did in 1936. My wife and I didn't need the money and I never told her about it. But what I did do? I thought it might be found sometime so I put a note on top of the coins. I wrote: 'I leave the contents of this cauldron to my friend Agnes White, and to her heirs'. That's you, Rosalind. You are Agnes' heir. I went to the village public house and had it witnessed by two regulars, friends of mine. One asked me what was in the cauldron, and I lied, calling the contents family keepsakes. The two of them weren't worried. They were nearly as drunk as I was."

Albert's voice sounded tired as if speaking was a real effort.

"What sort of coins were they, Albert?" I asked.

"I only looked at a few on the top layer. They were all gold of the mid-18th Century. Most were British guineas, looking freshly minted, but there were also some French coins of the Kings before the 1789 French Revolution.

"And how many?" Rosalind's voice shook. She was obviously worried about talking to ghosts. I squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

"It is a big cauldron, Rosalind, the sort that might have hung by a crane over an open fire. Full of coins? I doubt anyone could lift it."

We talked for about an hour mainly with Edith about what they wanted done to the house -- basically to make it sound and weatherproof and suitable for a 21st century family home for us.

When Rosalind and I finally left, Rosalind grabbed hold of me outside the front door and kissed me passionately.

"Phew!" she said. "I didn't believe you Gareth. But talking to them was an ordeal. I have never spoken to ghosts before."

"Neither had I," I admitted. "But they are friendly and wish us well and you are their heir."

I dropped to my knees.

"And now, Rosalind, since I have proved I spent Halloween night in the cottage, will you marry me, please?"

"Yes, Gareth. You're braver than me. I couldn't have met them on my own. I will marry my hero accountant."

"And now we have to talk to the solicitors, together, Rosalind."

"I promised you two things if you had spent the night in the cottage, Gareth. For the second, could you book a Friday and Saturday night in a local budget hotel for after the solicitors, please? We need time to get a cheaper deal.

"You're sure?

"Yes, Gareth, you deserve it and now we are engaged."

+++

It took a fortnight to get an appointment at the solicitors on a Thursday afternoon. We met the youngest partner, a Mr Amos. We had explained by email that we wanted to discuss the Cobb's wills, and Agnes' will leaving everything to Rosalind, and Albert Cobb's cottage. Mr Amos had extracted all the various papers.

Rosalind told him that from family papers she had inherited from Agnes there had been a hint that something valuable might have been hidden in Albert Cobb's cottage. If there was, who would own it?

It was Mr Amos' opinion that Rosalind would. The wills leaving everything except the house to Agnes had been all contents and such fixtures and any fittings that Agnes wanted. There might be some doubt about whether the house owners might have a claim. He thought not but there was a faint possibility.

"There is an easy solution, Rosalind. If you bought the house, everything would be yours without question."

"I can't afford to buy a house!" Rosalind protested.

Mr Amos smiled.

"I think you could. I'll explain. The Australian nephews are now elderly and embarrassed by owning Albert Cobb's derelict cottage. About two years ago we were approached by the developers of the estate that has just been turned down to see whether they could buy the cottage and land, demolish the cottage and build a small set of houses. The developers approached the council informally while I was finding out how much the nephews wanted for the cottage.