by DJ Black
"This is too much please, I just have to sell, I am desperate. My husband... well we really do need the money," Julia Cassidy pleaded.
The estate agent leaned back in his chair and sucked on his pencil. The foolish silly woman was beginning to annoy him. She came in every day demanding that her late uncle's house be sold, as if any circumstances would have changed.
"I'm sorry Mrs Cassidy, but the few buyers who have shown an interest have all pulled out for one reason or another."
"The house is sound, you said so yourself..."
"Yes, yes, but it has not been modernised since..." he glanced at his notes, "1901. When we advertised original late Victorian and Edwardian features, we were being literal."
"But my uncle must have done some work on it."
"Basic maintenance only. Your uncle never even saw the place to my knowledge and his grandfather never lived there. His wife refused by all accounts. It was rented for a while after the war, right up until the 1980s, but since then it has been used for storage. Lady Chance was the last person to live there as an owner occupier and she died in..." again he consulted the notes, "1926."
"Yes my great great-grandmother, I know this." Julia sat back deflated. Then after a pause she asked, "Why did the last offer fall through? They seemed so keen."
"I have no idea. The wife, she changed her mind."
"But she was so enthusiastic. What happened?"
The agent shrugged.
"Wasn't something said, we must have some idea?"
"The husband asked about ghosts when he dropped off the keys. But he was laughing. I don't think he had any real concerns in that direction," the agent shrugged and looked longingly at the door.
"Old houses collect ghost stories like..." the sentence was left unfinished, but Julia took the hint and stood up. "I'll drive out there myself and see if I can think of a way to make the property more attractive."
The drive was a little overgrown with weeds pushing through the gravel, and the sound of the car's tyres seemed intrusive. A large flock of mocking crows seemed to think so and took flight as she pulled up.
The house itself was large and imposing. There were signs here and there of disrepair, paint peeling on the sills for one, but the aspect was pleasing and not the least creepy or unwelcoming. Julia half expected to see a face at one of the many windows. There always was in all those Hammer Horror movies. She laughed.
The door opened easily. But again, the echo of her entry sounded intrusive in the empty house. Maybe that was it? Every stick of furniture had been sold some years back. Maybe if it were furnished?
It took Julia half an hour to walk through every room and open all the doors. There was a musty unlived in smell and always behind her there was a rustle of something or a flickering dash in the corner of her eye.
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