Lay Me to Rest. E. Clark A.
I felt it imperative to stress that I was not normally given to flights of fancy and knew that what I had seen was most definitely real.
Peter remained silent for a time. His expression was grave. He stood, twisting his fingers together, as though reliving some terrible event from his past. When he eventually spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.
‘I thought … that all that had stopped now.’
He stared at the ground. I waited, suspecting that he was building up to revealing something momentous. Then he raised his eyes to meet mine.
‘Look – I really ought to tell you something. When we were younger, Glyn and I – we thought it’d be a bit of a laugh, to be honest. You know what kids can be like. It was after his dad had been telling my parents about the resident ghost. We’d heard about these “Ouija” boards and we thought we’d set one up in the cottage.’
I watched his face as he began to dig into the archives of his memories and to replay one that he would clearly have preferred to erase.
‘We’d have been about thirteen,’ he continued, after a long pause. ‘It was during the summer holiday. Mum and Dad had gone out for the evening and we decided that it would be the ideal time. We wrote out the alphabet, and the words “yes” and “no”, on a big sheet of paper, and cut all the letters and words into little squares. We spread them out in a circle on the floor in the living room, and put an empty glass in the middle – you know, upside down. Glyn had seen somebody using one in a film once, so he knew what to do.’
Peter seemed to shudder at the memory.
‘Of course, there was a good deal of giggling and messing about. We each put an index finger on the glass and started asking questions: daft things like “will it rain tomorrow?” and “will we ever win the pools?” at first,’ he went on. ‘I think we were both pushing the glass ourselves to begin with. Glyn was keen on this girl that he went to school with and he wanted to know if she fancied him, too, so that seemed like a more interesting question. I pushed it to spell “you must be joking”, just to wind him up. But after that the glass started to move by itself. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t answering our questions any more – just spelling out horrible messages … in Welsh.’
‘What did it say?’ I prompted Peter. His words seemed to have dried up, as though he were lost in some disturbing recollection.
He stared at me blankly. ‘Glyn translated. He didn’t want to tell me at first, but I insisted. It said … that my parents were going to die,’ he said, simply. ‘That I would be left an orphan.’
I had no knowledge of Peter’s family, only that he lived alone. ‘Was it – did it come true?’ I asked, hesitantly.
He lifted his face to look at me, his expression betraying no emotion. ‘Oh, yes. They were killed shortly after we returned to the Midlands. An armed robbery that went wrong … and they’d had an appointment with the bank manager. Something to do with their mortgage, I think …’
I had a vague recollection of hearing about an incident some twenty years ago, when several people had been seriously injured in a bungled bank heist. The manager himself and two customers had perished when the gunman ran amok.
‘Oh God, Peter. I’m so sorry.’ I felt guilty for making him relive his loss and reached out to clasp his hand. His palm was clammy and he was shaking.
He resumed the story. ‘We thought it was pretty sick, but didn’t take too much notice. Perhaps he’d read it wrong. Anyway, then it said that Glyn would never get married. And when we asked why not, there was just one word: “M-A-R-W.” It means “dead” or “death”. Of course, you know the outcome of that prediction.’
Peter shook his head and gazed into space. ‘When we asked who was giving us the messages, the glass started going crazy, darting around all over the place. But then we heard a voice – a creepy, disjointed, childlike voice. It just said “Mae hi’n gwybod”. And then the glass shattered.’
‘What’s that? Somebody’s name?’
‘Oh no. It means: “She knows”.’
I felt a little stunned by Peter’s revelation, but at the same time relieved that I had not completely lost my faculties. What puzzled me was why, if there had been no recent recurrence of any preternatural activity at the farm, it had suddenly reared its head once more.
Peter seemed to have an explanation.
‘To tell you the truth, I’ve had a bit of a morbid fascination with the paranormal ever since,’ he told me. ‘Apparently, the arrival of someone new at a haunted location can sometimes stir things up again. I didn’t mention anything before, as I didn’t want to put you off coming. And as nothing’s happened for donkey’s years, I saw no need to bring up the subject. Which was why I was a bit cross with old Will.’
‘So – d’you think that what I saw – and what spoke to you – was the ghost of the girl that Mr Parry was telling me about last night?’
‘It seems pretty likely, yes.’
‘But didn’t you say you’d never actually seen anything yourself?’ I looked into Peter’s face and his cheeks flushed as he stared down at his shoes.
‘Seen – no.’ He looked a little sheepish. ‘Heard – well, it was as I’ve just explained … There were a few odd happenings after that: things being moved from their proper place, pictures falling off the wall; but nothing particularly sinister. And after Glyn died it all just fizzled out.’
‘What happened to Glyn?’
‘He died of a sudden heart attack. I was staying here at the time, as it happens. Right out of the blue – we’d just come back from taking some sheep to market and he’d seemed absolutely fine, laughing and joking as usual. It was a terrible shock for everyone, especially since he always appeared so fit and healthy. Just makes you realize – you have to live for the here and now.’
Peter glanced at his watch, his eyes widening. ‘Shit, I really don’t want to seem rude, but I must hit the road. I’ve got a meeting to attend this afternoon.’
‘Yes, of course – don’t let me keep you. Well, have a safe journey and I’m sure I’ll see you when I get back.’
‘You aren’t worried – about going back to the cottage, I mean? It must have been pretty unnerving for you.’
I thought for a moment. In the cold light of day I felt more rational about the whole experience – and after all, it wasn’t as if I had come to any harm.
‘No. I think it was just the shock of being woken like that and not really knowing what it was. I’ve only got another couple of nights till Sarah arrives, so I’m sure I’ll be all right. Although I’ll be keeping the light on at bedtime … and I might just borrow that cat for company,’ I added, with a grin.
Peter smiled. He slammed the boot of the car shut. ‘Well, that’s me, then! See you soon, I hope; and enjoy the rest of your stay.’
Mrs Parry came hurrying breathlessly over to the car, cradling a small cardboard carton. ‘Oh, I thought I’d missed you. I’ve just brought you a few eggs – fresh this morning! You can have them for your tea later. See you in August, shall we?’
Peter nodded and hugged the old woman. ‘Thanks for everything, Gwen.’
‘Safe journey, cariad.’
We stood and watched as the car rumbled down the rough driveway and eventually disappeared as it passed over the cattle grid.
Mrs Parry turned to me. ‘Let’s get you some breakfast, young lady. Did you sleep well?’
‘Mmm … could have been better.