Haunted Enough.

And so October arrives. It's my favourite month: my birthday is in October; Bouchercon is very often in October; my parents arrrive in California to start their month's visit in October (today!); and, of course, Halloween. The whole month is an excuse to scare ourselves silly and laugh at our own goosebumps.

So today I thought I'd share the story of The Most Frightened I've Ever Been. Ever. 

It's summer, 2014, and I want to go to Norfolk (the English one) to research a book, so I get in touch with the owners of a delightful farmhouse B&B in the middle of nowhere, where I once stayed before. Do they have any rooms on the nights I need to be there? They don't - they're going to be away from home - but if I wouldn't mind making my own breakfast and feeding the cat, I'm welcome to come and stay in the empty house. In the middle of nowhere.

What would you have done?  Here's the house, if that helps:

When I arrive, it's almost dark, the rain is hammering down and thunder is rolling in the distance. I wish I could say fork lightning cracked over the chimney tops as I stepped down from the car, but it didn't. My phone battery was flat though.

I let myself in, put the kettle on and set about trying to a. find the light switches b. put the bins out (as requested in the note on the kitchen table); and c. get Coronation Street on the telly.

(Yes of course I put the kettle on before I started looking for the light switches.)

Now, as you know, the two most crazy-makingly-impossible things to do in a strange house are put the bins out and turn the telly on. The arcane rituals of recycling in a strange house would make Kafka weep and everyone - everyone - has seventeen redundant remotes on the coffee-table and one that works hidden down the side of the couch. 

It was getting really dark too. 

I gave up on remote No.11 when the kettle boiled, and scampered through to the kitchen to make tea before trying again. Returning to the sittingroom with my cup, I thought to myself Ah. At least it'll be easier now that that lamps's on. I had got as far feeling grateful to whoever had turned the lamp on before my brain caught up with itself and I found myself saying "H-h-hello?"

Silence.

Obviously, I concluded, the lamp was on already and it was just that it had got a lot darker, quicker, and I noticed. Obviously. By this time I was walking back to the kitchen, having decided to deal with the wheeliebins first and then lock all the doors and curl up. See? I told myself, back in the kitchen. There's another lamp on through here that I never noticed before. 

Whistling a happy tune almost loud enough to cover the noise of my knees knocking, I fumbled my way out of the dim hallway to the garden and trundled the wheeliebin down the path to side of the lane.

Then I turned round and saw basically this:

Which might as well have been this:

Every single light in the whole house was blazing out. (Like that bit in The Sixth Sense when all the cupboard doors are suddenly open.) And it was pitch black now. And my car keys and phone were in there. And there was no one in screaming distance. 

I stood frozen in terror for long enough to get soaked through to the skin. My brain did its best to comfort me. 

Brain: That's no axe murderer. An axe murderer would wait until you were asleep before he showed his hand.  That's a . . .

Me: A what?

Brain: Polterge-

Me: Shut up.

Brain: Electrical fault.

Me: Keep talking.

Brain: Yeah, what that is is the timer-switch on the anti-burglar lights has got some kind of glitch and-

Me: Brain, you're a moron.

Brain: Look who's talking. 

And I managed to get the telly working while my tea was still hot too. It's not really much of a haunted house story, but it was haunted enough for me. Happy Halloween! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Kate Adams]

I'd have slept in the car.

[Lori Rader-Day]

Giggle.

[Art Taylor]

Oh, such a good story!!!! Glad it wasn't me!! And sorry it was you!!! But good to tell.

And happy birthday ahead too!

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

So funny! I would’ve been terrified to… Until I thought of automatically set lights. If my brain got unfried enough to think about automatically set lights.

Happy birthday! My birthday is in October too… Does that mean something? I hope so..

[Kathy Reel]

You tell the best stories!

[Elaine Viets]

Brrr! Glad you're here to tell the tale.