Ghostwriting

  She screamed, resisting as her larger, fitter husband hauled her toward the pool-house.

  The sobbing woke Billie. ‘What the —’ It took a moment to figure out that the television hadn’t been left on and that Shannon was not in sight. ‘Shannon, is that you?’

  ‘Yes,’ came a weak reply and a sniffle from the foyer.

  Billie rose, realising it was the crazy hour. ‘What’s happening, babe?’ She approached Shannon who was crouched in the middle of the foyer with both arms wrapped around her legs.

  Shannon slowly raised her eyes to Billie, and even with the lights dimmed low, it was easy to see her tear-stained face. ‘I just bore witness to a murder,’ she muttered in explanation.

  ‘What?’ Billie freaked, looking warily about for the evidence of her friend’s claim.

  ‘Old Heartley’s first wife didn’t run off on him,’ Shannon stated, barely able to contain her emotions. ‘He drowned her in the pool and buried her on the property.’ Billie was looking at her doubtfully, but Shannon continued despite this. ‘He found the letter, the one in the album. Katlin must have tried to send the letter off in secret, but obviously nothing got by Heartley. He knew his wife couldn’t swim, and that Katlin’s disdain of him was known to the community. So when he drowned her in the pool and then told everyone that she’d run off home, his story was all the more believable. The bastard buried her here to ensure she’d never rest in peace beside her beloved … even in death Heartley could still torment her. It’s sick,’ Shannon exclaimed at last. ‘Don’t you think that’s sick?’

  Billie had both eyebrows raised in total amazement. ‘Either you’ve got a fantastic imagination or … you’re on to something? Can you prove any of what you claim?’

  Shannon nodded. Her pretty blue eyes were red and swollen from crying and the blank, horrified expression on her face made her look as if she had been possessed. ‘I saw where he buried her.’

  The colour drained from Billie’s face, and she was not easily spooked. ‘And so what if we find her? It’s not like we can take the guy to trial for murder.’

  ‘Don’t you see? We have to take Katlin back to Ireland and bury her in County … whatever it was in the letter.’

  ‘Now hold on a goddamn second,’ Billie felt compelled to protest. ‘There is no fucking way that I am flying to fucking Ireland with a goddamn fucking corpse in my luggage!’

  ‘Fine.’ Shannon stood. ‘I’ll do it myself.’ She moved to head upstairs, but Billie gripped her arm.

  ‘This is not your property, Shannon,’ she cautioned her. ‘If there are any corpses here, they belong to Simon.’

  ‘I’ll only dig in one tiny spot, and then I promise to clean up when I’m done. Satisfied?’ Shannon glared at her friend, and then realised they were having an argument. ‘Sorry. It was just so terrible to witness.’ Shannon tried to explain her irrational state. ‘He raped Katlin before he murdered her,’ she muttered, her jaw clenched to contain her disgust and anger. ‘But then, he probably abused her all of their married life. Perhaps, in the end, it was a relief for Katlin to know it would be the last time he’d impose himself upon her.’ Shannon looked away, lost in the memory of what she’d seen.

  ‘I’ll help you dig.’

  Shannon looked up to find Billie appearing decidedly more determined, and Shannon smiled in appreciation.

  ‘If we find a skeleton,’ Billie proffered, ‘then we’ll decided what should be done about it.’

  The next morning, with spades, a pick, a bucket and a wheelbarrow, Shannon and Billie set out from the pool-house to find Katlin’s last resting place. Billie pushed the barrow with all the gear in it and Shannon retraced Heartley’s criminal path.

  ‘Down past those rocks is a clearing surrounded by trees,’ Shannon advised, bounding off down the leaf strewn slope of clay and rock to see if she was correct.

  Billie decided to take a break from pushing the barrow; if Shannon was leading them on a wild goose chase she’d save herself the chore of having to push the barrow back up the hill.

  ‘Fuck me!’

  The words were alarming to Billie as Shannon rarely swore with any conviction. Billie left the barrow and headed off down the slope, through the trees and into the clearing. In the direction Shannon was looking was a tall sandstone rockface. There hadn’t been any rain for a few days and the bushland was dry as a bone, and yet on the tall rockface was a clear watermark forming the initials, KO.

  Billie was awestruck. She came to a standstill next to Shannon.

  ‘You do see that?’ Shannon queried, without taking her eyes from it.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Billie confirmed. ‘But, ah, shouldn’t it be KH?’

  ‘Her maiden name was O’Connor,’ Shannon said, having a talent for remembering details. ‘And the man she loved was Timothy O’Mally.’ She shrugged not knowing to which name the ‘O’ referred. ‘The name Heartley never brought her much joy. I don’t blame her for not wanting to use it to identify herself.’

  Shannon approached the rock wall, carefully stepping around one particular patch of ground, and Billie gathered that this was where Katlin was buried. Shannon touched the moisture on the wall that formed the letters and then tasted a droplet of the water.

  ‘Are you nuts?’ Billie stressed.

  ‘It’s salty,’ Shannon informed, ‘like tears.’ She looked at Billie, unable to explain the anomaly.

  Billie’s eyes dropped to the nominated patch of earth. ‘Let’s get her out of there then.’

  They’d only dug down a couple of feet when a pale piece of bone became apparent amid the rich, dark soil.

  ‘Oh, Billie.’ Shannon got the willies and jumped out of the hole. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Oh, great, leave me to check,’ Billie grumbled, having suspected that she’d get landed with the gruesome work. She grabbed a small spade and brush, and began digging around the object. It soon became fairly clear what it was. ‘It’s a skull.’ Billie sat back on her haunches once she was sure, and looked at Shannon, who was deathly white and looking as if she was going to be sick.

  ‘Ireland here we come,’ Shannon said flatly, praying to God that Billie would agree to go with her.

  ‘Looks that way.’ Billie caught Shannon’s eye and smiled. ‘Fuck it. Let’s go make some travel plans over a cup of real tea.’

  Shannon nodded, and felt her dread of executing this task alone lift from her thoughts.

  As they headed up the steep slope, Shannon became aware of the ghostly figure of a woman, attired in a long old-fashioned dress, making her way up the slope ahead of them. ‘Katlin?’ Shannon called out to her, startling Billie, who saw nothing bar the afternoon sun through the trees.

  The woman turned back to Shannon and smiled before continuing on her trek toward the house.

  Despite her efforts, Shannon didn’t manage to catch up to the spectre, who remained about ten metres ahead all the way back to the house. Once inside the small mansion, Shannon searched, but Katlin was nowhere to be found.

  In the kitchen, Billie was making tea. ‘What the hell was that all about?’

  ‘It was nothing.’ Shannon sidestepped explaining further and sat down at the table to look through the house album again. She knew she’d come across an old black and white photo of Katlin in there the other day, but she hadn’t had a reason to take any real notice of the picture at the time.

  On second viewing, Shannon saw a woman the same age as herself, fear clearly reflected in her expression. Katlin had long dark hair that fell to her waist, where it curled into ringlets. Her pretty, soulful eyes told a sad story, as they were filled with despair and anger. Katlin’s lush lips where pulled taut — to contain her rebellious protests, Shannon imagined.

  Shannon wished she could have sat down with Katlin all that time ago; she would have talked her into leaving Heartley and defying her family. How sad that a true love had been lost forever, and how strange that after all this time, two women, much the same age as Katlin, had come along to aid
her. Shannon had to wonder: if they’d all lived at the same time in history, would they have become friends? How nice to know that one could make good friends over a century after one’s death.

  After a trip to the local travel agent to pick up brochures and maps, the evening was spent trying to locate the place in County Kerry where Katlin had once lived. To find the exact burial place of Katlin’s beloved Timothy O’Mally was going to take a bit of research, which they would do once they arrived in Ireland.

  Today, their flight of fancy was still a bit unreal. However, neither woman had yet suggested that maybe they should forget the idea and go home.

  Billie had undergone a huge shift in attitude. The situation had gone from being Shannon’s delusion to a very real scenario in which a heinous crime had been committed and gone unpunished.

  Shannon ventured to ask Billie about her sudden conversion to the cause and for the first time since she’d met her, Shannon saw a look of regret on the warrior woman’s face.

  ‘I know what it feels like to be in a loveless relationship,’ she replied rather sombrely and without using the ‘f’ word once. ‘Be damned if I would allow anyone to be trapped in that hell for all eternity.’ She sniffed back a tear and forced a smile. ‘Old Man Heartley can just kiss my fucking arse!’

  They would both sleep well tonight, they suspected. No footsteps or knocking on doors.

  Someone was crying. Shannon didn’t want to wake. Was it Billie she could hear? She recalled Billie reminiscing on a loveless relationship the previous evening and, fearing that they’d opened a can of worms, Shannon forced herself to consciousness.

  She wandered into the hall, rubbing her eyes and having a yawn. ‘Billie?’

  It was Katlin seated on the stairs, and although her appearance was transparent and colourless, her features and dress were well defined and very like the photograph Shannon had been viewing earlier. Katlin had obviously died young, or rather, been murdered young. Tears were streaming down the young woman’s face, but unlike her image in the photograph, Katlin wore a huge smile.

  ‘What’s with all the tears?’ Billie appeared at the top of the stairs and halfway through her descent she stopped dead in her tracks, having spotted Katlin.

  ‘You can see her?’ Shannon whispered to her petrified friend.

  Katlin was obviously following the conversation, as she turned in her seated position to view Billie.

  Billie backed up a step. ‘Yep. What’s the story with all the tears? Isn’t she happy to be going home?’

  Katlin turned back to view Shannon, the smile still broad on her face.

  ‘I believe she is crying tears of joy, Bill —’

  A knock on the door startled Shannon and Billie witless for a second and Katlin vanished. Her path to Shannon now clear, Billie raced down to the landing to join her outside Shannon’s room. The knocking repeated and then just kept going.

  ‘Oh shit,’ Shannon mumbled, fearing they had stirred up old Heartley’s ghost too. ‘This has never happened before … the knocking always stopped after two rounds.’

  ‘But now there’s no spook to answer the door and make the other spook go away,’ Billie pointed out, just as horrified by the thought of confronting the murdering old bastard.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Shannon offered, but Billie pulled her back.

  ‘You can’t even bear to glimpse a buried skull,’ Billie chided. ‘I’ll go.’ She turned on the foyer light, using the switch which was on the wall halfway down the stairs. This seemed to break the ghostly tension a little and Billie charged toward the door, determined to kick Heartley’s head in. Through the keyhole she saw no one and the knocking had ceased. She unbolted the locks and opened the door slowly, preparing for Heartley’s ghost to burst in. She found Simon on the ground, searching through his bag. ‘Simon! You scared the shit out of us.’

  ‘Sorry, darling heart,’ he replied, with a large apologetic smile, ‘but I seem to have misplaced my keys.’

  The girls breathed a sigh of relief, for they were very glad to see him.

  Simon had undergone an unexpected split with the new man in his life and had abandoned his travel plans and returned home. He was delighted when he heard about what had been going on; a mysterious development in the history of Heartley B&B that he could document.

  ‘I had no idea. Well done, ladies,’ Simon exclaimed, rising from the kitchen table to get himself another coffee — the girls were both drinking juice. ‘You have my unreserved blessing to return Katlin to Ireland. I would consider it a great service to this house … in fact, I’ll even shout you both a business class airfare to Ireland. Sound fair?’

  Shannon’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She was speechless. Billie, however, was more sceptical. ‘He’s just looking for a polite way of getting his house back,’ she commented to Shannon and then looked at Simon. ‘I would have left for a lot less … but I’ll take the trip thanks, babe.’

  ‘I do feel bad about doing you two out of a holiday,’ Simon confessed to Shannon, who shook her head to assure him that there were no hard feelings. ‘Although it doesn’t sound like you’ve been doing too much relaxing here.’

  ‘You said it!’ Billie emphasised as she rose from the table. ‘I’m just going to have a swim and then Simon can give me a hand to get Katlin out of the ground.’

  Simon screwed up his nose, not overly thrilled at the suggestion.

  ‘Ah, don’t be such a girl.’ She whacked him on the back on her way past and nearly winded the poor fellow.

  ‘If only I had her balls,’ he sighed with envy.

  5. Drying Out

  Billie left her towel on a chair and approached the pool. Shannon was right about this glasshouse — light and airy as it was, it did feel distinctly creepy this morning. Perhaps the revelation of two deaths occurring in the pool had something to do with Billie’s newfound apprehension of the place.

  On the verge of diving into the warm, inviting water, Billie’s skin began to prickle with pins and needles induced by fear, not cold.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Billie stepped back from the edge, deciding to forgo her swim today. Every fibre of her being was warning her away from the water and it wasn’t like her to be aware of her intuitive voice.

  ‘Old man Heartley can just kiss my fucking arse!’ Billie’s words from the previous night came back to haunt her, as she copped a hard shove to the upper body and found herself headed for deep water.

  ‘I have a couple of friends who are quite psychic and they claimed that the house was definitely haunted,’ Simon explained, while he and Shannon walked down to the pool-house. They had decided to join Billie for a swim before executing their appalling chore. ‘Still, I’ve never been aware of the disturbances you have described … but then, I’ve never been sober for very long either.’

  They could hear Billie splashing around as they neared the end of the pathway that led to the glassed-in pool.

  ‘Jeez, Billie sounds like she’s really getting serious about her swim.’ Simon opened the door and stood back allowing Shannon to enter first.

  She strolled into the pool-house ahead of him. ‘Holy shit, Simon!’ Shannon found herself racing to the far end of the pool where Billie was struggling to keep her head above water. Due to all her surfing Shannon was a fairly powerful swimmer, but she stripped off her top layers of clothing to stop them from dragging her down.

  Simon hit the water before Shannon did, and grabbing hold of Billie he was surprised to find some invisible force pulling her body down. ‘It’s like she’s weighted. I can’t get her to stay afloat,’ he spluttered, appealing to Shannon, who dived straight in.

  She surfaced and grabbed one of Billie’s arms. ‘Drag her to the shallow water,’ she ordered, having determined the best course of action.

  ‘Let go, you murdering prick,’ Billie spluttered out as she was rolled on to her back and stretched between her friends and her unseen foe.

  ‘Help us, Billie,’ Shannon ordered, swallowing water as she
heaved Billie’s weight behind her and struggled to find the floor of the pool.

  ‘I’m trying, goddamn it,’ Billie retorted sharply, fed up with playing games. ‘Let me go Heartley, you fuck, or I will dig up your bones and feed them to a pack of rabid dogs!’ she yelled defiantly at the water that threatened to suck her under.

  Shannon and Simon suddenly found themselves surging forward. Moments later they were in the shallows, panting for breath and spitting out water.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Shannon turned her attention to Billie, now that she had her breath back.

  ‘A fucking ghost just tried to kill me!’ Billie rapidly waded to the end of the pool and climbed out. Simon and Shannon decided to do likewise. Billie didn’t sidetrack to get her towel. She just headed straight for the door.

  ‘Where are you going, Bill?’ Shannon raised herself out of the water and stood to wait for Simon.

  ‘The fucker pushed me in …’ Billie turned back to advise them not to hang about, but did not waver from her course. ‘If Heartley thinks he can intimidate me into leaving Katlin in the ground, he’s in for a rude shock!’ She shouted angrily into the glasshouse: ‘You’re dealing with twenty-first century women now, prick!’ She slammed the door on her way out and stormed off up the garden path.

  ‘She is really pissed,’ Simon commented, as he and Shannon made haste to put some distance between themselves and the pool-house.

  Billie was like a woman possessed following the pool incident; now the vendetta was personal. She worked relentlessly to dig Katlin’s bones out of the ground and never flinched once from the gruesome chore.

  The skeleton itself was pretty badly busted up, having been pushed into the hole in the ground feet first. Still, the threesome gradually laid out the fragments of Katlin’s remains beside the dig and kept searching until every little bone had been accounted for — if there was one thing Billie was intimately familiar with, it was human anatomy. The disjointed state of the skeleton was fortunate in so far as it all packed neatly into a suitcase.